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endlessthxxghts · 7 months

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Take It Easy

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈10.2k

Summary: Your family throws an impromptu barbecue. You’re usually the one they throw every task on, but with today being your most painful period day, you say fuck it and leave them to fend for themselves. Only one other guest is invited today, and that’s Joel Miller.

Warnings: Age gap (23/43). Established relationship (to everyone but reader’s family). No physical description of reader besides outfit choices. Use of feminine pet names. LATINO JOEL MILLER (he’s canon in all my fics, sorry not sorry). Fluff with slight angst - getting caught, kinda (?) - happy ending, don’t worry. This version of Joel is always soft for reader, but I feel like he’s extra soft here. These idiots are so fucking in love (highkey jealous). SMUT 18+ MDNI: If you know the traffic light system for safe words, reader uses yellow at one point - but fluff & comfort happens immediately after. Dom/sub and Brat tamer/brat dynamics (subspace!). Daddy kink. Degradation kink (very brief). Making out/body appreciation. Masturbation (F). Oral sex (M receiving). Spit kink (I'm so weak). Exhibitionist kink - reader is being bold 🫣. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. Lots of kissing (these two definitely have some sort of oral/kiss fixation istg). Soft unprotected p in v. Reader gets a surge of dominance, soooo ya get a glimpse of sub!Joel😏…...I think that's it. Let me know if there’s anything I missed. 🫶🏼

Author's Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but I accidentally connected this a bit more than I intended to the What You Need fic. That fic talks a lot about reader's background/family dynamic and why/how Joel is the way that he is with reader. There's also some little details in here that might fly over your head if you haven't read What You Need. However, I genuinely don't think any confusion or such will occur if you only read this one shot. I hope you'll be able to enjoy all the same. Much love 💚

MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

“Can you prep the veggies?”

“Can you prep the grill?”

“Can you make the rice?”

“Why don’t I make the entire fucking dinner at this point?” You snap in the direction of the kitchen from your place on the couch, wrapped in blankets, snuggled with a heat pack over your lower belly.

“Well, if you’re offering,” your brother smirks.

You started your period yesterday, and the second day is always the absolute worst. Your flow is heavy, your cramps are excruciating, and your mood is all over the place. Today was not the day for an impromptu barbecue, regardless if there were guests or not.

You promptly give your brother the middle finger then pull yourself off the couch to make your way to the bathroom. You’ve filled up an entire pad, yet again, in less than 20 minutes.

You always do everything for your family, but today, you absolutely don’t give a fuck. Today is self care day for you — popping three painkillers then heading straight to the dark of your room.

You’re not entirely sure how long you fell asleep for, but the smell of charcoal smoke and sizzling steak is what wakes you up first. The next sensation that fills you is the sound of heavy boots walking from, what you assume to be, the back door to the kitchen. Joel. You’d know that walk anywhere. He’s taking on the tasks for your family that usually fall on your shoulders.

He called you this morning before everyone (including you) woke up, saying he’s excited to see you tonight. You grumbled sleepily, about to tell him you were just as excited when a searing pain ruptured in your stomach, causing you to gasp out in pain.

“Baby?” Joel called out, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Fuck, sorry, baby, it’s nothing,” you shyly say. He says your name. You start to explain, “I started my period yesterday, and-” but Joel cuts you off. “The second day is always the worst,” he states factually.

You smile to yourself, “Yeah, exactly.”

He tells you to get up and get a glass of water and some medicine to ease the pain, which you do, then he tells you to let yourself sleep in today, which you don’t.

“Fine,” he relents at your stubbornness, “but at least take it easy today, darlin’, ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Miller, loud and clear,” you tell him.

You can feel his dumb fucking lopsided smirk through the phone, “Fuckin’ brat,” he snarls.

“Mhm, but you’re fuckin’ brat,” you correct him.

“Yes. Mine.”

“Mmmm,” you let out a soft moan at that. Mine. You love the way it sounds, the way he claims you. “I love you.”

His cock twitches at the sound you make, but he wills it stay down. He takes a breath before he responds, “I love you, baby.” He can’t get ahead of himself today. He needs you to take it easy. So he tells you exactly that, again, for the last time before he ends the call and lets you take on your tasks for the day.

Even though the mouth-watering scent of all the delicious food has completely pulled you awake, you stay in bed a little longer, basking in the sensation of absolute no cramping in the position you’re in. And as if on cue, Joel quietly knocks on your door, waiting for you to invite him in.

“Come in,” your voice cracks, still groggy from the hours of no speaking.

He enters softly, clad in that denim button up you love so much paired with some dark washed jeans. “Hi, darlin’,” he makes his way to place a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a longer one to your lips. “How you feelin’?”

“Better now,” you coo, completely enamored by how soft your big, burly man can be. “Food smells good. You helped them?”

He’s sitting at the side of your bed now, facing you, so he can rest his arm across you. “Only your old man. Carried in the food as he finished puttin’ em in the trays,” he says as he draws little circles on your arms.

You hum in response, too content at his presence. Still unable to use your voice, you tug on his arm, silently asking for him to hold you for just a moment before you eventually need to get up.

“They all left, by the way,” Joel soothes.

You finally have the strength to lift your head up, a quizzical look on your face.

“Your brother needed an herb, your dad s’more charcoal, obviously your mother drove ‘em. I don’t know where your other siblings are, though,” he explains.

“Oh.” You look up at him. “So what you’re saying is,” tugging harder on his arm to pull him into your bed, “you can freely cuddle me until then.”

He chuckles at that, giving into your pull, and wrapping his hand around your jaw to pull you into yet another sweet kiss. He’s laying down next to you now, and you take the opportunity to completely entangle your limbs into his, your head tucked into his neck.

Your family is gone for another forty-five minutes from that point on, and you two spend each minute just completely wrapped into each other, sharing sweet, wet kisses everywhere both of you can reach. His thigh supplying light pressure between yours at your core, spurring you both on just enough but not to the point where you lose all self control.

There’s something about the way you two can touch each other like this. With past partners, they always wanted things to escalate. To undress you and devour you at any sign of affection. But with Joel, it’s natural. Of course, his body will react in ways that show he physically wants more, but truly, he just wants to adore you and appreciate you and love you. And in the moments where those three words aren’t enough, he shows it in the other pure way he knows how to.

You’re too distracted being consumed by Joel’s touch, but as sharp as an eagle, he immediately perks at the sound of your family’s arrival. He slowly pulls away, trying to savor the kiss as much as possible. Finally it breaks, and you immediately pull your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to savor the way he feels and the way he tastes. He gives you a look of pure love and devotion—a look you know is only reserved for you, a look you’ll never get tired of. “Time to get up, darlin’.”

“Ugh,” you whine out, “Okay, I’ll meet you out there. I’m just gonna change, baby.”

He pulls you up out of bed and straight into another chaste kiss, “Want me to make you tea?”

“That sounds lovely, baby,” you blush at his attentiveness. You’ve been spoiled rotten by him for the past year, but you still get so flustered every time. “But I think we’re out of what I normally drink-”

He stops you with yet another kiss. “I bought a box of that peppermint blend before I came.”

You can’t stop the way you absolutely fold for this man, evident in the shaky breath you take and the way you completely stumble on your words, “Y-yeah, o-okay, yes, please.”

He smiles and nods, walking directly to your kitchen without another second to waste.

God, he deserves some fucking head right now, you think to yourself as you quietly giggle.

You make your way to your bathroom, taking a quick body shower because those several hours of sleep, plus the way Joel was on you for 45 minutes, had you looking like a murder scene down there. You dry yourself off, lotion up, and change into some loose black sweats and a fitted, light blue baby tee.

You look a lot brighter after your rest; Joel was right in telling you to sleep in, you needed it. Not that you’d ever tell him. He doesn’t need anymore ego boosts. Ya see, what’d I say, darlin’? you can hear his Texan twang scolding you already.

He looks up from the kettle pot boiling before him to see you perched on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island, bright eyed and awake, watching him make your tea. “Thank you again, baby,” you softly say.

He comes around behind you, setting your mug in front of you accompanied with three soft kisses peppered to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. “Of course, my sweet girl. You ready to eat? Everythin’ is set up out back, and everyone is out there, too,” he sighs, “already eatin’.” He says, annoyed at the fact that no one thought to call and check in on you, let you know that the ritual of eating together already started. You’re used to it by now, but seeing his reaction reminds you that it’s not normal for your own family to treat you this way. You smile a little sadly, trying to think of how you want to go about this. Usually you just wouldn’t eat, but with Joel around, you know that’s not going to fly.

“How ‘bout,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head still resting on your shoulder, “I go out there, make a plate big enough for us both, and I come back in and we share?” He could easily get you your own plate, but he knows your family. They’ll jump at any opportunity to shit talk you when they don’t understand the entire situation. Getting you your own plate and serving you when he’s a guest in your own home could inspire that, and he really doesn’t want you to experience that right now.

You lean into him, turning your head a little to place a kiss to his cheek. “Okay, baby,” you smile, “yes, let’s share.”

He comes back inside to you snuggled on the couch again with a pullout table propped right in front. He snuggles up right beside you, placing your legs right on top of his, keeping you secure with a hand on your thigh.

The plate is filled with a mountain worth of food. You already know three-quarters of that is going down his bottomless pit of a stomach, laughing to yourself at the thought. One thing that wasn’t on the original menu for tonight was on his plate. It also just so happened to be one of your comfort foods whenever you weren’t feeling good. “W-who made the mashed potatoes?”

Joel looks up at you sheepishly. He thought he’d be able to pull it off. He didn’t just go to the store, before he came, for your mint tea. He also went to get the ingredients for the mashed potatoes recipe you love so much. Within the almost two years he’s spent getting to know you, he’s recognized that every single time you’re feeling under the weather or falling into some type of depressive slump, you’re either eating or craving it. “I, uh- When I went to go get your tea… I figured I’d get ya your stuff for this, too. Made it before I came to wake ya up.”

“Joel…” your voice cracks and your eyes tear up.

How is it that after 23 years of life, you’re finally experiencing what it means when someone loves you? And you’re not talking romantic, you’re talking pure, genuine love. Love that you should’ve received from your parents, your siblings. They have never once shown you the consideration of making you your favorite meal, or fixing you a cup of something warm when you’re not feeling well. They have never shown you what it means to appreciate someone, in any of the love languages. The only person that has shown you remotely anything is your mother, but even that is limited because she cowers behind the directives of your father. You see her try, and you feel selfish not to appreciate it. But is it selfish to just want to be wholly loved by the people who created and raised you?

You pull the fork out of his hands and set it back on the plate. And in an instant, you completely throw yourself on him, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, legs tightly hugged between his own. He loses his balance and lays straight back onto the couch, letting out a grunt at the landing, with you on top of him. You push into him for a kiss, your noses smooshing together as you lick inside his mouth with a sense of urgency to show him how much you love him. Once the initial shock of you pouncing on him wears off, he immediately wraps himself around you, tightening his hold to pull you in impossibly more. His tongue dances with yours, one arm wrapped around your middle and another secure around the bottom of your ass.

You adjust to straddle his hips, sitting up and pulling him up with you by the collar of his denim. You break away from him just for a minute, heavy breathing and eyes dark, and you let your hand glide down his chest, swiftly undoing a few buttons of his shirt, making sure to leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses as you go. You make your way down to his belt, unbuckling it with such a need that he can’t help but just watch you. You slip the belt out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground, and you’re scooting back more to situate yourself in between the tight space of his legs. You palm him through his jeans, feeling how absolutely hard he is, which elicits a deep groan from the man above you. With that, the button and zipper of his jeans are undone. You bring your hands up back to the hem of his jeans, looking back up at him for his approval.

“Sweet girl, ya know your folks are right outside,” he tries to warn but fails with the way his voice wavers with need.

You look to the back door that’s twenty feet away, curtains completely drawn, and look back at him. “You and I both know none of them are coming back inside for a while,” you raise your eyebrows in defiance.

He is truly at war with himself right now. He could let you do what you want, knowing you get off just as much as he does when you give him head. Or he could situate you back to your original positions and finger a few orgasms out of you, and he just pulls away from you if someone were to walk in — the safer route. Or. The safest option being he bids your folks goodnight and you let them know you’re going out for the night.

Though, the latter would just be too easy. He knows you both revel in the risk, in the act of sneaking around. Which is why he finds himself scooting forward to the edge of the couch, and you take the hint loud and clear. He wants you on your knees for this. He meets your stare once more, both of you sparkling with mischief. “Well? Darlin’? Best get on with it then, huh?” Followed by him lifting his hips slightly so you can tug his clothing down, his tip red and aching.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp out, “been thinking about this since you left my fuckin’ room, daddy, I want you so bad.”

Your admission spurs him on more, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Go on, darlin’. Prove it to me. Show me how fuckin’ bad.”

You pull yourself up to stand on your knees for a moment, and murmur a quiet come here to him, urging him to lean in for a second. He pulls closer, stopping an inch away from your face. You open your mouth for him, tongue sticking out and flat. He gets the hint, and before you can even register, his hand is on your jaw, tilting your head back and opening you wider, and he spits.

You use all your self control not to swallow it right here and right now, desperate to feel any kind of warmth from him slide down your throat. You have other plans right now. You close your mouth and let your own spit generate, absolutely giddy with want to please your man. His eyes are fixed on you, knowing your next plan of action, but still stunned all the same at how fucking filthy his sweet girl is. You pull yourself back, hovering your mouth over his erection.

You open your mouth and just let the combination of both of you fall from your mouth, sliding down his cock like the sweetest of syrups that you can’t wait to lick up. As the amount of spit starts to really gather, you grab him by the base and start stroking up and down his length, putting extra emphasis on his tip, running your finger over his slit for good measure. He lets out a stuttered groan at that, and you take that as your queue to finally put him in your mouth. Running your tongue in the same pattern your fingers did his tip, making him hiss in your ability to make him fold at the smallest of touches.

You keep this pace for a good while, using your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down in the speed and pressure that you know brings him to the edge fast. The sounds coming from your throat mixed with the slick feeling of your hand pumping him has your pussy absolutely dripping for attention. Fuck it. You slide your other hand down into your underwear, and begin to play with your clit, not wanting to go any deeper for fear of getting blood all over the place. Joel wouldn’t mind—of course, he wouldn’t—but you would, so you give yourself just enough to ease the aching need between your legs. Your moans get louder now that you’re touching yourself, your throat adding a delicious vibrating sensation to him.

His eyes were shut at how fucking amazing you’re taking him, but with the sounds you’re making, he can’t help but make sure all his focus is on you. And god damn, when he sees you touching yourself so prettily while you’re being such a good girl making daddy feel so fucking good, he can’t help but cum at the sight. “F-fuck, sweet girl, holy fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, “It turn you on that bad to have my dick in your mouth, huh?”

You pull off of him with a pop, making sure you keep as much of his cum in your mouth as you can—because there’s a fuck ton—and you fix your stare into his dark eyes as you swallow every last bit of him. “So fucking good, daddy, I-” you break off into a moan, your hand that was pumping him now gripping his thigh to maintain your balance as you continue the ministrations on your pussy.

“Cum for me, baby, show me how good it makes you feel to be daddy’s little slut,” he demands. You gasp out at his words, that demand being what really throws you over the edge. Your clit pulses underneath your fingers, you feel yourself gush out, your blood and cum making you feel impossibly messier, and with that, your body goes rigid.

Joel leans forward and grabs onto your jaw, keeping you upright while you come back down from your high. You’re so far gone that you don’t realize he’s peppering your face with kisses, uttering sweet nothings until you’re back with him. He gently pulls your hand from your pants and settles them into your lap.

“I’ve got ya, baby,” he kisses your lips softly.

“My sweet girl,” he kisses your jaw, “I love you,” another kiss at your pulse point below your ear. He feels your body begin to relax.

“Atta girl, baby,” he whispers before reaching down and settling his other arm underneath your legs, positioning himself so he can pick you up in a cradle position. He stands and carries you to your bathroom, settling you on your feet for one moment so he can pull your sweats and underwear off of you. He guides you down onto the toilet, kissing your forehead and muttering a quick one sec, baby before he steps out. He comes back two minutes later, and you’re still in subspace but slightly more grounded, and he kneels down in front of you, instructing you to lift one foot at a time.

He went to go get you a new pair of underwear and some gray sweatpants. He already stuck another pad to your underwear, too. The action fills you with such an overwhelming feeling that you can’t help the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks. He looks up, knowing everything you’re saying and feeling by your gaze alone. He cups your cheeks with both hands, rubs his thumb to wipe the stray tears, and kisses your forehead, your left eye, then your right, your nose, and finally your lips, all in an attempt to seal every ounce of love and adoration he has for you.

“I love you,” you finally say, leaning your forehead against his, and just take a moment with his hands on you. He pulls back again with a kiss to your forehead, and he grabs the wipes on the counter, encouraging you to lean back a bit, so he can clean you properly.

“Wait, no,” you meekly say, trying to grab the wipes from his hands. He knows you get embarrassed at the fact that he sees you a little gross like this, and you know he truly doesn’t care. Usually he relents and lets you do it yourself, but tonight, he’s doing everything for you whether you like it or not. He raises one eyebrow at you, and that’s all you need to bring your arms back down in defeat. You lean yourself back a little, spreading your legs open, and let him clean you up.

When it comes to other activities during your period, you usually are uncomfortable. But with Joel? With him, you don’t mind. You actually love it. It’s in moments like these that remind you how irrevocably in love you are with this man.

Afterwards he stands you up, pulls your bottoms on, and turns you towards the sink and washes your hands for you. He really wasn’t kidding at how easy he wanted you to take today.

He carried you back to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket around you. You threw yourself on him in the middle of your guys’ meal, so after he settles you into the couch, he transfers your shared food to a real plate instead of paper and warms everything up. He does the same to your peppermint tea.

After everything is warmed, he settles back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs up onto his thighs and holding you above your knee to secure your position. You go to reach the fork, but Joel is quick to swat your hand away, taking the fork and feeding you a bite of your mashed potatoes instead.

“I told you,” he scolds, “to take it easy today.”

You frown, “And I have been! You’ve literally been taking care of me since you got here.”

He sets the fork down, reaching for your tea and lifting it up to your mouth. He’s not gonna respond until you take a sip, which was much needed as your belly immediately calms at the heat. You take one more sip as he begins, “You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy.”

You cough on the fucking liquid still traveling down your throat. You were not expecting that to come out of his mouth. You try really hard to will yourself not to fucking burst out in laughter because you know how serious he was with this statement. So instead, you settle for your typical smart ass remark. “It wasn’t?” You asked. “Seemed real easy to me,” you add as you take the fork from his hand and take another bite of the yummy food before you. His eyebrow shoots up and you give him a lopsided smirk in return.

“Watch it, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his hand up, thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to force your eyes into his. He gives you a bruising kiss, one that entices him to bite at your bottom lip as he pulls away. You can feel yourself slipping again. He’s not done with you, he’s just giving you a moment to refuel.

“I’ll be good,” you softly whimper as you chase for his lips. “I’m not so sure about that,” he responds as his grip on your chin gets tighter, forcing you stationary and a few inches too far from where you want him to be. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes gloss over as you whisper out a small I promise, to which he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He lets go of your face completely and continues feeding you, alternating between the food and your tea. As the next bite he prepares for you reaches your mouth, something that has never happened before decided to occur. Your mother comes inside the house, and her first sight as soon as she came in was you, completely wrapped around Joel, and him feeding you.

Your jaw freezes, his grip on your leg tightens out of instinct to protect you, and it’s a staring standoff between the three of you. Joel doesn’t realize he’s still holding the fork up until his hand starts to shake, so he gently sets it down on the plate. It’s you who speaks first. “Mom, I-”

But it’s your mother who wants the first word. The first two words, actually. “How long?”

Your heart is beating out of your chest, and the only thing keeping you from full blown panic is all the ways you’re in physical contact with Joel. “I can explain, mom, I-”

“Flower,” she says to comfort you. She’s not mad? you think. Your heart immediately calms, but now you’re just confused. Growing up, your mother always called you her flower. She used it predominantly when she wanted to help you regulate. You’ve always been full of anxiety and other strong emotions. Flowers are strong and beautiful, and show exactly when they need support. And when they are given the support they need, they flourish. That’s you. You are a flower. Her flower. But now she can see, there’s someone else tending to you. And she is not mad.

“A year and some change,” you softly say. She looks between you two. Then she steps forward. “Look,” she breathes. “I know our family hasn’t been the best in showing love or appreciation. And they obviously haven’t been the best at fending for themselves-”

“Amen to that,” you say, and she chuckles in appreciation. She continues.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything you do around here. We both know none of it would get done around here if it weren’t for you. I try to help you as much as I can, but obviously not enough. If you can pull everyone’s weight around here, which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, then I can at least pull my own and whip them into pulling their own, too.”

Your eyes are watering, and you take a deep, shaky breath. Joel feels it. He brings his hand around to rub small circles into your back. You’re so grateful he’s here. “I love you,” you say to your mom.

“I love you, too, flower, but I’m not done. I also know that I’m not too great at using my voice. Defending what’s right. But you’re the one person in this family that’s given me the inspiration to fight for what I believe in. You give me strength, and constantly seeing this family pull you down lower and lower as the years go by breaks me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

Tears begin to fall, both on your face and your mom’s.

“And in this last year, and some change, to be exact,” she smiles as she recalls your answer from earlier, “you have been the most vibrant flower of the entire garden. In the gloominess of this house, you continue to grow, and I’ve been dying to understand what changed. And now I see why. And I have never been more grateful for another human—the first one being you—until he entered your life.”

You and Joel both look at each other, his eyes have a hint of gloss to them now, too.

“So,” your mother says as she reaches for the tissue box on the counter and walks back to hand you the box. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my story to share. And remember. I will always have your back. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me about such a beautiful relationship, but we’re here now and I need you to know that I will forever support what makes my flower happy,” she looks to Joel, “and that’s you. I will support both of you until my flower decides on something different.”

Joel’s face turns into a scowl, half joking and half pissed at the thought of you leaving him. “Which, I have a feeling isn’t gonna happen, so you can calm yourself, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” your mother adds after seeing his boyish reaction that would normally scare anyone but you, and apparently your mother.

You lose your shit at his new nickname, and all the emotions just flow out at once. You pull yourself off of Joel and run into your mothers arms, needing her comfort. She holds you like that for a few seconds before she says, “Okay, go, I think Mr. Grump needs your comfort now. Absolutely no way I’m doing it.” You laugh and squeeze her one last time before she grabs something in the kitchen and heads back outside. You make your way back to Mr. Grump, straddling his lap. Before she opens the back door, though, she calls out your name.

“Yes, mom?”

“I’ll cover for you, hon,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back outside.

You and Joel stare at each other for a moment, too shocked to take action on the opportunity that just presented itself to you. Then, it finally hits. You pull him into a kiss that’s downright feral, your hips grinding down on him on instinct. “Take-” you say as you try to break away from the kiss, but you’re too drunk on him to completely pull away, “t-take me home, baby.”

He grunts in response, and stands up with you completely wrapped around him. He heads for your front door.

“Baby, Baby, wait, not here,” you say breathily as you go back in for another quick kiss, “through the garage.” He looks confused for a second before he remembers. The front door camera. The left side of your driveway being the camera’s blind spot. Immediately he reroutes.

You would think the first thing he does is bring you to his bedroom, but no. He sets you on his couch, molding your body into his signature position for you that makes you sit on your heels, palms up on your thighs. He could’ve easily told you he wanted you in position, but again, he told you to take it easy.

Although the position almost always forces you into subspace, you’re confused and coherent enough to question him, “Baby..?”

He steps back, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised, “Don’tcha remember, sweet thing?”

“You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy”, he said.

You promised you would be good.

To which he assured you, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”

He sees the moment it clicks in your head, and immediately his hold is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He whispers, “Color?” Still demanding but with a hint of softness to it. You tilt your head further back, trying to make your lips touch him more, “Green,” you say.

He pulls your chin into him and kisses you, slow and sweet, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, breath slightly shaky, but he composes himself quickly and stands straight up, letting go of any contact with you.

His couch is either really low to the ground, or he is just one big motherfucker. Either way, you sitting on your haunches on his couch like this while he stands straight up in front of you makes your head in direct eye line of his crotch. And you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from it. You see his tent forming, and you’re smart enough to realize what lesson he’s about to give you.

“Told you to take it fuckin’ easy today,” he says as he slowly unbuckles his belt, “didn’t I, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” you say quickly, not wanting to piss him off more.

“But ya didn’t,” his belt falls. “Did you?”

Your spit thickens. “No, daddy.”

His belt is on the floor, and he’s reaching to undo his button and zipper. “My good girl was jus’ too fuckin’ eager to have my dick in her mouth, hm?”

You lick your bottom lip, catching the drool you didn’t realize was pooling out of your mouth. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, he’s got you trained. You let out a whiny mhm in response, already completely blissed out at the prospect of what’s about to happen. He settles for it, this time.

He pulls his jeans down, just enough to pull himself free. He leaves his boxers up for now while he explains. He walks closer to you, his hardness one lick away from you, and forces you to look up at him again. “You’re gonna take my cock in your mouth again, sweetheart,” he says.

You eagerly cut him off, “Yes, please, thank you, daddy, I-”

He shuts you up by pushing his thumb in your mouth. “But you’re not gonna move or do anythin’, besides sit prettily for daddy,” his grip on your jaw tightens, “ya understand me?” He slides his thumb out and spreads your spit across your bottom lip and down your chin.

“I understand, daddy,” you say, your eyes completely glossed over. Out of instinct, you fold your hands behind your back, signaling to Joel your complete submission to him.

“Such a good girl when you remember how to be patient,” he says as he stands back to his full height again. He gets impossibly closer, crowding your face. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs free, the tip landing against your lips, smearing the pre-cum across it. It takes everything in you not to lick it up—you can’t, he needs to give you your next instructions. He hears your silent pleas, and as he settles his hand at the back of your head, fingers grounding themselves into the roots of your hair, he tells you, “Open.”

Knowing how rough Joel can get, you take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, and you open wide, your tongue laid flat out, slick with the drool that’s been forming since the noise of the belt buckle hit your ears.

His other hand is holding himself at the base, guiding himself into your mouth. He taps his tip on your tongue a few times for good measure, before pushing himself all the way in. You feel your gag reflex coming, but you take another deep breath through your nose, urging your throat to relax a little more. It does. He pushes slowly in until your nose is flush with the patch of hair above his length. All you wanna do is unclasp your hands and reach for his thighs to pull him into you tighter, wanting to engulf his scent into you, but you can’t. All you can do is take what he gives you while sitting pretty like the good girl you are.

He starts to pull back a little, and that naturally makes your throat contract, forcing a groan out of him and more saliva out of you. He lets go of himself, and now both hands are on you. He taps your cheek, asking you to look up at him. “Hands behind the entire time. Any touch on my thigh signals red to me, okay?”

You nod your head as best you can with his grip on you and let out a little moan for good measure. At your signal, he completely and utterly wrecks you with no hesitation. And you take it exactly as he gives it, just like you promised you would.

The more he thrusts, the more spit that builds, leaking from your mouth and down your chin. Your eyes are shut at the feeling of him abusing your throat, but he won’t have that. You feel his other hand not tap your cheek twice. Your eyes fly open and land on his dark ones. “Those eyes stay on me,” he grunts out at a particularly rough thrust. You whimper out at his words, trying to convey your apologies for doing something that could make him mad. “No, it’s alright, darlin’,” he says, his pace never faltering. “I- fuck- wasn’t specific enough,” he grunts, “but ya know what I expect now,” his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

Your eyebrows furrow and try to emphasize with your eyes that yes, eyes on you, daddy. He understands. “Atta girl, baby,” he breathes out, pulling out momentarily to give you a breath.

You choke out a little as he pulls out. He softens, concern laced in his voice, “You okay, amor?”

“Yes,” you say weakly, “I promise, please. W-want more..” You open your mouth wide again, tongue positioned perfectly for him to slide back in.

His eyes fall dark again and there’s that signature lopsided smirk. He guides himself back into you, completely, and his hand from your cheek glides down to wrap around your throat. “Shit, amor, you feel that?” He squeezes at the base of your throat. “I’m all the way fuckin’ in there, baby,” he says, falling back into a rough pace, feeling the outline of his dick glide in and out of your pathway. “You’re takin’ me so-” he lets out a pained grunt. He’s close. “-so fuckin’ good, shit, baby.”

Your throat constricts again, and that feeling is what sends him over. For the second time today, all of your senses are being consumed by everything Joel: his taste, his smell, his touch, the downright sinful sounds that grace your ears, and you take it all in, eagerly. Both hands release their hold on you as he pulls out of your mouth, and you’re quick to lean into his hips. His hand shoots back to the nape of your neck, pulling you back like a mother does to her puppy.

“You’re fuckin’ insatiable, you know that?” he says, out of breath, still trying to compose himself from the soul-sucking he just took from you. You give him a blissed out giggle, “You jus’ taste so yummy, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “Well, so do you, babygirl, so it’s my turn now.”

Immediately your ears perk up and your body goes rigid. The thought of him giving you head with the flow you have right now doesn’t sit right with you. “Yellow,” you shakily whisper.

He lets go of the back of your neck and falls to his knees to match your eye level. “Oh, honey,” he cups your face, “Please tell me how to make it better. Do you wanna stop here, mi amor?”

Your body relaxes at his instant reaction. You’ve only ever had to use a safe-word with Joel twice. Today, included. And in each rare moment, he does what every caring partner and proper Dominant should: validate, comfort, and communicate. He has never given you any reason to be scared or feel disrespected. This is Joel we’re talking about here. You’re safe in his presence, always. The thought puts you at ease, but it also makes you feel a little ridiculous at using a safe word for something that could easily be communicated without it.

“Wait, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, it’s something so tiny and stupid, I should’ve just communicated instead of going straight to the code-” you quickly start panicking as you ramble on, but he’s quicker. He pulls you off the couch and into his lap, holding you in a tight embrace, knowing the pressure is what helps pull you away from your panic attack. He’s muttering it’s okay, you’re okay and I’ve got ya, as he kisses the top of your head. As soon as he feels your body relax in his arms, he speaks. “Darlin’ girl, please look at me.�� You do, teary-eyed.

“I completely forgot you were on your period. I was too in the moment, and I had a lapse in judgment in my words. I’m sorry. You should not be the one to apologize, ever, if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation like this. The safe words are there for a reason, okay? Use them. They are there to keep you safe, always. Thank you for speakin’ up, my love.”

You nod your head at his words, too emotion-filled to respond with anything else right now. The only thing you can offer is a whisper of a “Thank you, I love you,” but that’s enough for him.

He gives you a soft kiss to your lips. “How would you like to continue, beautiful girl?”

You think for a moment, and the way that his hand feels wrapped around you starts to make your arousal build again. All you can think of are his big, calloused hands all over you. In your mouth. On your thighs. In your warmth. Screw the bloody mess, he doesn’t care. You squirm at the thought, and he feels you falling back into your space again. His cock stirs beneath you. He tightens his grip on you to coax you out of your thoughts. “Fingers,” you squeak out, your cheeks flushing red instantaneously. He grins, but his eyes stay fixed on you, hinting at you for something more. Then, it clicks. “P-please, daddy, need your fingers in me,” you say, voice trembling with need.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls your thighs around him and brings himself to full height. He leads you to his bed, setting you down on the edge with a kiss to your forehead and a quick one moment, sweetheart.

He leaves to return back with a large bath towel and lays it across the center of his bed, dark blue to match his sheets. He situates pillows for your head and leaves a smaller one out, just in case. You feel his weight shift the bed, and he’s walking toward you on his knees. You lean into his touch the moment his hand makes contact at your lower back, and he’s guiding your shirt off of you. He takes that same arm, wrapping it around your waist, and leans down to situate the crook of your knees over his other arm. He’s carrying you up higher to the center of the bed, completely removing any opportunity for a thought to run through that head of yours. He wants you focused on nothing but the way he’s going to make you feel.

Once you’re laying down on your back, he makes his way down, placing soft kisses on your belly and all over your thighs while he slides your bottoms down your legs. Once you’re completely bare, Joel situates himself in a way that he’s never done before. He lays next to you on his side, shoulder propping him up, so his hand is underneath your head and he’s still looking down at you. He grabs onto your thigh closest to him, and he hooks your leg atop of his, opening you up.

The level of intimacy and vulnerability of the way you two are positioned against one another has your mind reeling, absolutely aching to be consumed by him. Joel is always sweet and soft with you, but this is completely on another level. It doesn’t feel motivated by a feral need to rip each other apart. The motivation lies in the pure need to feel. To feel you against him, consumed in the entirety of love and raw emotion. To feel him against you, filling you with a genuine intimacy and devotion you both know only he can provide you.

He brings his other hand up to gently cradle your face, and he leans in to slot his lips against yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip, swallowing the faintest of whimpers that slip from your throat. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, keeping him close, deepening your dance of lip and tongue. His hand drifts away from your face and takes his time to grasp and show attention to the rest of your body.

He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it with a care that causes your fingers to curl tighter in his hair. He shows the same attention to your other one, then flattens out his entire hand to run down your sternum and belly, positioning his hand on the pathway down for his middle and ring finger to be the first that make contact with your sex.

And when it does, neither of you can hold back the groan that leaves your mouths. He’s too enamored by you to let his lips leave yours, but you have a feeling your filthy-mouthed man would make a comment about how wet you are for him. You know you’re right when he completely bypasses your clit and down to your entrance, eager to get his fingers covered in you, so he can spread it all over you.

You pull away for a moment, both of you out of breath and pupils completely blown. “You see how good you make me feel, daddy?” His fingers reach your clit again. “I’m so fucking wet,” you moan out, “and it’s all because of you- all for you, daddy.”

“Baby, please,” he grits out, his fingers leaving your clit after a few more circles, dipping into your entrance with ease. “So fuckin’ good to me, but fuck, stop talking,” he breathes, hips involuntarily thrusting into you, “need you to soak my fingers first, amor.”

You shoot him a smile that gives him butterflies, and then you’re pulling him back in, needing to feel him everywhere he can possibly manage.

The pace of his fingers are perfect, constantly hitting the spot that’ll get you there in no time with the heated sensation of lips. His hand behind your head moves down and wraps underneath your waist, pulling you in flush with his body. He needs to feel every part of you. Your leg closest to him—the one hooked around his leg—comes off of him, and now you two are completely laying on your sides, facing each other.

His fingers leave you for a moment to hike your other leg up and around his waist, your pussy inches away from his center. His fingers find you once more, and the angle is impossibly deeper. You’re whining out now as you rock your hips against his hand. He knows you're close with the way your breath shakes. He reaches his thumb up to circle your clit, and you break away from his lips, throwing your head back at an instinct, exposing all your sweet spots for his mouth to reach. As his hands continue working you to the edge, he gives you the final push when he latches at the base of your neck where your shoulder meets, and he litters the area in wet kisses and painfully delicious bites.

Oh, fuck, daddy, yes,” you moan out, your vision going white and your body going rigid. Your climax hits you so hard that you don’t realize his fingers left you, your thighs still convulsing and hurtling you through your high. You can faintly hear Joel, muttering his sweet whispers, as he always does.

“Oh, fuck, that was so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”

“You’re beautiful, yanno that?”

“I love you, my pretty girl,” he places a kiss right atop your heart.

Still, your mind is floating somewhere in narnia, so he understands when you don’t reply right away. You’re not even completely back from your orgasmic haze when he pulls his boxers completely off, throwing them somewhere in the room, and his aching cock is resting against your core.

“Darlin’ girl,” he brings his hand up to guide your limpless head to look at him, “I need you to use your words f’ me, honey, please give me a color,” he says, the softest you have ever heard him.

You give him the smallest smile back, but it’s so full of love and admiration. You’re lightly nodding your head yes, trying to will your vocal cords to respond. “G-gre..” you let out.

He stops you with a kiss, “Okay, honey, okay, that’s all I needed,” and another kiss, “Can I give my baby what she so desperately wants now?”

The prospect of the sensation your body is about to go through because of him ignites a fire in you. It forces you to come back down from your haze, so you can register every second of him in his entirety. Your neck straightens and your eyes open fully, pupils blacker than he’s ever seen. “Yes, daddy, please give it to me,” you say with a neediness more than anything. His lip quirks up in a smirk. “What my baby wants, she gets,” and he’s pushing your hips into him as he pushes into you, his tip notching at your entrance. You hiss, reveling in the stretch he gives you regardless of how much he works you open.

There’s a stigma with Dominants that they are always so calm and collected, always composed and never in a state of neediness and desperation like their submissive counterparts. However, that’s simply not true. In every please, in every whimper, in every cry; in every orgasm, in every act of brattiness, in each use of the honorific; in every demonstration of pure submission: there is a Dominant, willing themself not to give in and give their partner everything they need. There is a Dominant about to break because one more plea from the submissive’s mouth has them ready and willing to forgo every single plan they had for that particular scene.

And that’s exactly what Joel does here. He had a plan for you, even after you used your yellow code, but with the way he’s wrapped around you tonight—you have the power. You’re calling the shots. He exists simply and solely for you and your pleasure. Nothing else matters.

He bottoms out, and both his arms are wrapped around your waist, both of you completely aligned with one another. “How do you want me, baby?”

“I don’t care,” your forehead falls into his, “I just need to feel you, please.”

With your words, he’s thrusting into you with a calculated intention. You needed to feel him, you said. So he pushes in not too fast but not too slow, and hard. He buries himself to the hilt every single time, and it’s like he put you in a trance. Your eyes softly shut, trying to stay open to look at him; your eyebrows are pulled together; and the only sounds falling from your mouth are moans and whimpers and sweet nothings only he’d be able to decipher with your babbling. You feel everything in this angle, with his rhythm. You feel every vein, every ridge, you feel his tip kissing every sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously stealing the oxygen from your lungs. He feels so fucking good. Your leg hooked around his waist squeezes tighter on instinct, and he groans at the feeling. Seeing you completely desperate and at his disposal nearly finishes him right then and there.

Your hand is at its usual spot for tonight, wrapped tightly in the curls at the base of his neck. You're meeting his thrusts now, and it heightens the sensation tenfold. Both your breaths are hot and heavy, mingling into the thick air of Joel’s bedroom. You’re nearly at the edge again, you both are, but you need a little more of a push. “Baby, t-touch me, please,” you say with more breath than your actual voice. He sounds absolutely pained, “I got’cha, baby, I got’cha.” His hand leaves your waist, the other tightening around you to compensate for its absence, and his fingers are back on your bundle of nerves, circling at the same rhythm that he’s pulling in and out of you.

A gasp leaves your throat, and every part of you that’s wrapped around him pulls him in impossibly tighter, “fuck, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you ramble on in an almost incoherent whine. You can feel your words and sounds spurring him on as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s close, too. Then it clicks, you realize what you meant earlier when you said you needed to feel him first.

His fingers speed up and so do his hips. “C’mon, darlin’, such a good fuckin’ girl, give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts out, now chasing his own release.

Not stopping your movements, you unravel your arms from him and you push down on his chest, pushing him onto his back. You’re on top of him now, your movements only faltering momentarily as you situated yourself to straddle him. You grab both his arms, the one working your clit and the other on your waist, and you bring them up above his head. You pin them there with your own hand, your body leaning over him and adding to the momentum as you bounce on him. “No,” you say, almost a growl, “Need you inside me first,” sucking his bottom lip.

He fucking whines. “Need you inside me first, then I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” You switch off into a grind of your hips, moving back and forth as the feel of his pubic hairs rub against your clit causing your pussy to flutter on him. He feels it and his hands flex to move from your grip. Your hold on him tightens. You have the power. You lean down, licking a pathway up his neck and making your way near his ear. You whisper, “Stuff me full of you, daddy, and I’ll fucking soak you, I promise.”

“Fuck!” He growls as your hips speed up, and now he’s the one seeing stars. His face and neck flush into a bright red as he floods you with his release. And as if right on queue, the warmth and the feeling of him in you and seeping out of you is what finishes you. The constant stimulation on your clit from his pubic bone along with the angle his dick continues to prod at, you’re creaming and soaking him, just like he wanted. His thighs and even the area below his belly are drenched with the mixture of your guys’ fluids, and he can’t help but gawk at the scene before him.

You are completely surrounded by the product of your two’s arousal (plus a bit of blood, but he doesn’t care), you continuing slow grinds as you work yourself through your orgasm, and the way that your head is thrown back in pure bliss—he’s entranced by it all. His cock is nearing the line of painful overstimulation with you still on him, but he really can’t find himself caring enough to get your attention.

He thought he would never be into giving up his dominance, his yearn for control. But now that you’ve given him a taste at what you’re capable of, fuck, he feels downright insane if he didn’t want more of it.

You realize he may not be used to the oversensitivity as much as you may be trained for, so you bring yourself to a halt and slowly slip off of him. You bring your eyes to meet his, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth, seeing the goofy, blissed out grin on his face as he looks at you. You lean towards his head and give him a sweet kiss to his lips and his nose, and you softly tell him that you’ll be right back but to stay here with a slightly more demanding tone.

You quickly go pee in his en suite bathroom and wipe your bottom half down. You grab a pair of his boxers he leaves for emergencies under the sink (you let out a little chuckle at the fact), and grab a pad from the box he also leaves under the sink, for you, and stick it onto his underwear before shimmying it up on you. You grab another washcloth and soak it in warm water and walk back to the bed. You sit yourself up next to him and start wiping him down. As soon as you finish, you try your best and throw the washcloth, aiming for the sink of the bathroom, but you fail, miserably. It lands with a wet plop on the side of the toilet, centimeters away from landing in the toilet’s bowl. “Eh, that’s good enough,” you say to no one in particular as you nudge him to bring his hips up so you can take the towel out that he placed earlier to catch any of your blood drippings. You place it in the hamper, then you bring yourself to lay back down, cuddling into Joel.

He turns so you both are facing each other again. His head propped up on his hand. His other hand runs up and down everywhere he can reach.

“W-was what I did at the end there… was that okay?” you ask meekly as you slowly bring your eyes up to his.

He lets out a hearty laugh, shoulders shaking. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction. “Honestly,” he says as his fingers come to a stop and he just lets his arm wrap around you lazily. “I was really shocked when you flipped me over, but then,” he pauses for a second. Really just to spur you on more than anything. “I was so fuckin’ turned on and achin’ for you. I’d just about let you do anythin’ to me if you treat me like that, darlin’,” he says as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips.

He pulls back and your gaze is away from him and your cheeks are as red as he was earlier. A shy smile paints your face. He brings his fingers up to your chin, “Oh, come on now, no point in gettin’ all shy on me now is there, my dirty girl?”

You give him the best reprimanding face you can muster (which he finds beyond adorable), and you parrot a common phrase he uses with you when you’re a brat, “Watch it, big boy.”

He laughs at your antics, but you see his cock twitch at the pet name. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Joel!” you say, actually reprimanding him this time, but you genuinely don’t know what for.

His hand shoots to cover his mouth, an attempt at stopping his burst of laughter at your reaction. He lets go of his mouth after a moment and pulls you closer to him. He places kisses all over your face while you both giggle and let yourselves fall from your high together.

He abruptly stops his kisses to look at you. He doesn’t say a word. “Yes?” you ask, curious of that mind of his.

“Ya know how much I love you, right?” he asks, genuinely.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good hint, baby.”

“Good,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“And I love you so much, you do know that, right?” you offer as you bury yourself into his chest, inhaling his musk mingled the faint aroma of you.

He repeats your response back to you. You smile in his chest. It’s you who places a kiss atop his heart this time.

You both stay wrapped up in each other for a few more hours before your tummy begins yelling at you for sustenance. Though, until that happens, you two lie in each other’s arms, wondering what you did to deserve such an all-consuming, raw and genuine love.

Your mother was right. You really were the brightest flower in the garden, and it was all because of your big, macho man, who was actually as soft and cuddly as the clouds that bring water for the garden. Ever since he entered your life, he made sure those clouds poured all their attention on you. Giving you all the water and nutrients, all the love and care that you would ever need.

Forever.

End note: Thank you so much for reading! As always, your support is always always appreciated. There's no amount of words to describe how grateful I am for how much love I receive from you all. You're all too amazing. Feedback is also greatly appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive! Anything and everything helps me to be the best writer I can be. I love you all so very much💚💚💚

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juniperskye · 2 months

Text

I Can’t Be Your Friend.

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you do something that alters the state of your friendship. You realize that being his friend hurts too much now. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff/implied Smut

Word count: 2473

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied smut, drug use (marijuana), explicit language, idiots in love, Steve’s absent parents, mention of underage drinking. Let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Tonight was going to be amazing! Steve had invited everyone over for a summer kickoff party, there would be pizza, swimming, beer, and good company. Robin and you had gotten to Steve’s early to help set things up, pizzas were on the way, and you were just waiting for everyone to show up now.

First to arrive was Nancy, she had driven over with Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. They had come bounding in with arms full of chips and soda, piling them recklessly on the coffee table. The younger kids were arguing about who got the bathroom first to change.

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as you made your way to the door, letting in the next group. You had assumed it would be Johnathan, Argyle, and the rest of the kids, but instead, Eddie was standing in the doorway.

“Hey Eds!” You smiled.

“Hey! How’s my best girl?” Eddie pulled you into his arms and lifted you slightly as he spun you around. “I’ve missed you dude.”

“I’m good Eds. I’ve missed you too!” Your heart clenched slightly as he placed you back on your feet.

Your relationship with Eddie had always been like this. You were best friends, but sometimes, things were done or said that seemed a bit more than friendly. You’d stayed more nights with Eddie this last year than you did in your own home. Robin had pestered you about the status of your relationship with him to which you’d always reply; “We’re just friends, he doesn’t see me that way”.

“So, I know the kids are here, but I brought a little something special for us. I figured we could go to the van, take a few hits then come back in.” Eddie said wagging a joint in front of you.

“Eddie!” You hissed, covering the joint. “You can’t just pull that out. But yes, give me fifteen minutes.”

Eddie tucked the joint back into his jacket pocket and watched as you made your way over to Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Robin gave you a knowing look and you brushed her off. You were all catching up for a bit, laughing at the nonsense the kids were getting up to. Eddie was the one to open the door for Jonathan, Argyle, El, and Will. As they all walked in, Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head.

“You ready?” Eddie whispered.

You nodded and let him lead you outside to his van. Climbing in the back, you made yourself comfortable amongst the pile of blankets and pillows, all the while, Eddie lit the joint and placed it to his lips. After a few quick puffs and one long drag, Eddie passed it to you. The two of you passed the joint back and forth for a bit before it was nearly gone.

“Do you want the last hit?” Eddie asked.

“Nah it’s cool, you take it.” You leaned your head back.

“We could always share it.” Eddie said with a sly smirk.

“Okay.” You blushed.

Eddie took a long drag, holding it in as he moved towards you. He brought his lips to yours, only separated by a few millimeters. Your lips parted in a gasp, and he blew the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled sharply, allowing the smoke in. Your mind felt hazy, and you were starting to wonder if it was the weed or the lack of space between Eddie and you. Eddie met your eyes and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat.

What the hell was happening?

The two of you made your way back into the house and took turns changing into your bathing suits. You rushed outside and went to sit on the steps of the pool with Robin and Nancy. Each of whom gave you a pointed look.

Eddie made a stop in the kitchen to grab you a coke and an orange soda for himself, he then made his way outside. He sat the two cans in front of where you were sitting with the girls, the next thing you knew he was jumping into the pool, splashing the three of you, eliciting screeches from you three.

He surfaced and swam over to you, settling himself between your legs which were dangling off the step. His chest pressed against yours as he reached behind you to grab his soda. Your breath was caught in your throat.

Had he always been this beautiful?

Who were you kidding. Of course he had.

The night went on like this. The kids swimming, playing a ridiculous game of Marco-Polo, Steve grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, Eddie treating you like far more than a friend.

Now you were all crammed in Steve’s living room, some movie playing in the background. You couldn’t remember the name of it because you were far too distracted. When you had come into the living room, all the good seats had been taken, and instead of letting you sit on the floor, Eddie had pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your middle.

You had been sitting like this for about half an hour before he made the suggestion.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

This typically wouldn’t have sounded like a line, but given everything that had occurred today, you couldn’t help but feel like his words held deeper meaning.

“Okay.”

He led you into the trailer, just like any other time you’d been here, only this time there was a tension hanging over you.

More like sexual tension.

Jesus, get a hold of yourself.

Entering Eddie’s room brought forth a wave of anticipation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to happen. Eddie walked over to you and handed you one of his Iron Maiden shirts and a pair of his boxers.

It’s now or never.

You locked your eyes on Eddie’s as you slowly removed your tank top and shorts, leaving you clad in only your bathing suit. Eddie took a sharp breath and pulled his shirt over his head. Up until now things felt as though they’d been moving in slow motion, then all of a sudden things switched to fast forward.

Eddie lunged towards you and locked his lips onto your own, your hands finding his curls, his finding the ties to your swimsuit. His lips tasted like orange soda and nicotine, he was addicting, and you knew you’d never be able to give this up.

Eddie woke up and glanced over to see your naked form curled up in his bed. He couldn’t believe it, the two of you had taken that leap, this would change everything between you.

This could change everything.

I can’t afford to lose her.

You stirred awake, noticing your lack of clothing, and taking note of the discarded clothing on the floor.

So that really did happen.

This could change everything!

“Hey.” Eddie said quietly.

“Hey.” You blushed.

You sat up holding the sheet to your chest and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. Something was off about his expression, he seemed somber, and you were terrified to find out why.

“So, uh…” Eddie turned, breaking eye contact. “We should just forget this ever happened; you know. So, it doesn’t fuck up our friendship.”

Please say you don’t want to forget about it.

Of course he doesn’t want me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Of course she doesn’t want me.

You stood and quickly began pulling your clothes on and gathering your things. There was this loud ringing in your ears and you’re sure Edie was calling your name, but all you knew was you needed to get out of there.

You were halfway home before the ringing stopped.

How could you be so stupid.

Then the tears started. Not only had your heart been broken by the man you loved, but you also lost the one person you’d want to hold you while you cried.

“Dude what is up with you? You’ve been super weird since Steve’s summer kick-off party.” Robin pestered.

“Yeah she’s right, plus Eddie’s been extra bitchy, which usually only happens when you haven’t seen one another in a while. I thought for sure you guys were gonna hookup that night.” Steve ranted.

Your face turned a bright shade of red and you let your gaze fall to your lap. You knew you weren’t exactly being discreet with your avoidance of Eddie, but you didn’t’ think they’d call you out directly.

“Holy shit! You two had sex!” Robin shouted, smacking you on the arm.

“Ow! Yes, we did. And it ruined everything. The next morning, he suggested we just forget it ever happened.”

“What? No way, Eddie’s head over heels for you. What happened?” Steve asked.

You explained to Steve and Robin the events of the night and they both concluded that it made no sense. They were both convinced Eddie was in love with you.

This was when Steve and Robin came up with their plan. They would get you and Eddie together before summer ended.

“Steve, this isn’t working. She is declining every invite to hangout; she has gone as far as driving over and leaving if she sees the van, and even calling everyone to be sure if Eddie was invited.” Robin said throwing herself on the couch in defeat.

“That’s it! We will invite her over for a movie night, just the three of us. Then after she’s here, you go to the other room and call Eddie and invite him over. That way nobody will be able to tell her that he’s invited because he wasn’t.” Steve explained.

“Hey guys!” You called entering Steve’s house.

“Hey! How have you been? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Robin pulled you into a hug.

“Sorry about that, I just…I can’t bring myself to face him yet. I’ll get over it, I just need time.” You said.

Steve came in, greeting you and pulling you to the living room to help him pick a movie. He threw a wink over his shoulder to Robin. She rolled her eyes and made her way to Steve’s dad’s office ready to make the call. When she came to the living room she played it off as a trip to the bathroom.

Things were going well, they felt like old times, save for the hole in your chest in the shape of one, Eddie Munson.

Speaking of which.

“Hey guys!” Eddie greeted, entering the house.

“Guys, what the hell.” You said threw gritted teeth.

They both looked at you with guilty eyes. You shook your head and told them you needed to go. Grabbing your bag you went for the door. It took everything in you to not look at him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eddie called after you, following you outside. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You’re dodging my calls, your canceling plans, you’re literally leaving as I showed up to hang out.”

“Eddie, I can’t do this right now. I need to go.”

“So what? That’s it?” He had never sounded so defeated.

“Eddie, I…”

“Is this because of that night? C’mon you’re my best friend, you’re just gonna throw that all away?” He grasped your hand in his own.

“That’s the problem Eddie, I can’t be your friend anymore. Everything is different now.” You shook your head, pulled your hand from his grasp, and took off walking back home.

Eddie walked back into the house and immediately receive a slap to the back of the head from Robin. She and Steve proceeded to explain to Eddie how he had messed the whole thing up and how him suggesting you just “forget it ever happened” had led you to believe that he didn’t care about you.

Initially he didn’t believe them that you had feelings for him, but after they literally spelled it out for him, he realized what an idiot he had been.

“I’m gonna need your help.”

The plan had been a pretty difficult one, Eddie needed Robin and Steve to convince you to come over again for an end of summer bash and after the last time, he was sure you’d say no.

Robin had explained to you that after your conversation with Eddie, that he definitely wouldn’t be coming. She told you that she asked him, and he had declined. It was then that you agreed, but not without a pang of guilt filling your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Eddie. The look on his face when you told him you couldn’t be his friend had been haunting you.

The day came and you drove over to Steve’s, shocked that the only car in the driveway had been his. You parked and let yourself in.

“Steve? Where is everyone?”

“Hey! I’m in my room, and they’re on their way I figured you could come early so I could see how you were doing.” Steve said.

You walked into his room and noticed he was seemingly searching for something, he was scrambling around his room, swiftly moving to his dresser as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You looked over at him just in time to see a mess of curls enter and Steve pulling the door closed. You heard the lock click and the distinct sound of a chair being pushed against the knob.

“What the hell is this?”

“I needed to find a way to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Eddie, let me out.”

“Not until we talk. Look I fucked up that night, I suggested that we forget about it and that was stupid.” He exclaimed.

“Eds, look, I just need time…these feelings will go away eventually. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, but how am I supposed to be around you when I’ve tasted your kiss and will never get to experience that again?”

“I don’t want your feelings to go away. Truth is, I only suggested it because I thought there was no way you could love me back.” Eddie explained.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair. There were whispered apologies between kisses and you two only broke apart when the two of you needed air.

“How would you like to go get some dinner?” Eddie asked.

“I would love that!” You replied.

With that, Eddie walked over to the bedroom door and began knocking, shouting to Steve that he was safe to let you guys out. His knocks sped up the longer it took for Steve to release you both.

“Harrington, hurry up! I gotta take my girlfriend on our first date!”

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 8 days

Note

i'm so happy you're writing for nightcrawler! he's my favorite and its criminal how little fanfic there is of him out there. could i request a slight hurt/comfort fic? kurt has a habit of sitting in the dark in the mansion (its quiet and peaceful for him), and fem!reader finds him up late one night. kurt is completely enamored with reader, so he doesn't want to burden her with his problems, but she gets kurt talking and slowly finds out that the bad memories of his past are keeping him up. kurt walks reader back to her room, and she tells him that if he ever wanted to talk or needed someone, she was there for him. kurt takes her hand, kisses it, and cant resist saying that merely being around her was enough for him to rest easy that night.

i'm sorry this was so long! thank you!

And only the stars will know

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1.9K Warnings: slight hurt/comfort, but very faint A/N: Thanks so much for requesting. I feel like I didn't quite get the tone but I hope you like it anyway :)

It was a cold, starry night, the kind of night when you prefer to wrap yourself in a blanket, a hot drink in your hand and stare at the night sky from the windowsill. She was wrapped in a blanket, but she was a long way from her bed as she leaned against the doorframe to the balcony.

Her original plan had been to rush to her classroom and retrieve the papers she had left there, but the cool breeze in the corridors had distracted her from her plan.

Thinking someone had left a window open, she had followed the cold, even though her shivering body protested strongly against it, and ended up at the balcony. The doors were slightly ajar, leading her to think, as she had previously assumed, that one of the students had simply forgotten to close them.

However, just as she put her hand on the handle, she thought she recognized a person in the pale moonlight.

It was hard to make out, at first she thought she was imagining it, but when the clouds cleared the moon for a moment, she could clearly make out the outline of a person. A very familiar person.

She knew he was capable of it, after all, he had explained it to her, but it was the first time she had really experienced Kurt's ability to merge with the shadows and the darkness. Now that she knew he was sitting on the railing of the balcony, she could spot him, but she still had to make an effort to actually see him. Normally she would have spoken to him, but she didn't recognize the usually cheeky, flirtatious man, which had made her pause at the door frame.

Kurt had pulled his legs close to his body and hidden his head in his folded arms. His tail, which usually curled and swung back and forth in a bold and amused manner, was wrapped tightly around his body and didn't move a bit.

He must have been sitting out here for some time, because his body had started to shiver a few minutes after she found him and she couldn't stand it any longer. She carefully pushed the door open further, giving a soft squeak, but he didn't react, causing the worry line on her forehead to deepen, as he was usually so attentive. She shuffled quietly across the balcony, the stone icy cold beneath her bare feet, but he only noticed her when she carefully placed the blanket that had warmed her earlier around his shoulders.

He flinched and looked at her with wide, golden eyes, which she returned with a slight smile. She noticed that it was instantly easier for her to recognize him, as if he was making a conscious effort to remain visible.

„Meine Liebe, why are you still awake?" Her smile widened when she heard the nickname he honored her with. It wasn't much and in a language she didn't really speak, but it made her heart beat faster every time. "I could ask you the same thing, Kurt." She climbed carefully onto the railing next to him, careful not to fall. He seemed to have the same concern, as once she was seated, his tail detached itself from its place around his legs and wrapped itself around her waist.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied anyway, leaning forward slightly and adjusting the blanket so that it completely enveloped Kurt. It was only when she leaned back again that she noticed he had one arm hovering around her shoulders in case she lost her balance. Her smile softened and when he withdrew his arm, she reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "And you, honey?"

Kurt let his eyes wander over her face for a moment before turning them skywards. "Same with me." That answer shouldn't have worried her as much as it did. It wasn't like him to answer so curtly or to avoid her gaze. Thinking back to her conversations with Kurt, she couldn't remember him ever letting his eyes wander far from her.

Still, she tried not to be too pressuring and instead attempted humor. "I doubt that. You don't need to read twenty-two essays on Shakespeare to deprive you of sleep." That elicited a slight smirk from him, but it didn't come close to the broad smile she was used to seeing from him. "Not quite, no."

Kurt pulled the blanket into place and she felt the grip of his tail tighten a little around her hips, but said nothing, just watched him in silence. His hands were in his lap and she could see that he was wringing them, apparently not knowing what to do with them. Her eyes traveled up over his tense posture to his face.

His mouth, usually twisted into a toothy smile, was now nothing more than a barely recognizable line and his eyes, usually glowing with energy, looked dull and sad. She couldn't bear to look at him. Kurt was important to her, one of the most important people in her life, and seeing him like this broke her heart.

"Kurt?" Her voice was soft and tentative and he didn't look directly at her, but when he did, his face looked tired, exhausted and resigned. Slowly, so that he had enough time to pull back, she lifted her hand and brushed a few strands of hair from his face before resting her hand on his cheek. "You know you can talk to me? If there's something on your mind... I'm here for you."

For a brief moment, his features softened and he smiled, just slightly but it was a genuine smile. "I know, meine Liebe. It's just a few bad memories. Nothing to burden your mind with." Gently, she let her hand move from his cheek to his hand so that she was now holding both of them in hers.

"Shouldn't it be up to me to decide?"?“

Kurt was silent for a long time and she almost thought he was going to turn away, but he let out a deep, almost sad chuckle and shook his head. "God, you're one of a kind, aren't you? What did I do to deserve the honor of your attention?"

"There was nothing to earn," she whispered. "It was yours from the beginning."

This seemed to leave him speechless for a moment, but when he caught himself, his expression softened, the worry line gone. "It was just a few bad memories," he explained and it took her a moment to realize that he was answering her previous question. "Usually they can't hurt me, but sometimes-"

"-they just come up, no matter how much you've distanced yourself from them," she finished his broken sentence and Kurt nodded slightly.

„Ja.“ His eyes wandered from her face to the lands of the Xavier Institute. "I have found my role, my place, in this world. I am surrounded by people who accept me for who I am, love me for who I am." For a few seconds, his gaze flickered over to her. "But that wasn't always the case."

That sad look she couldn't stand came into his eyes again and he withdrew his hands. "I was fine for a while, in the circus. They may not have all loved me, but I was accepted and respected. That was all I wanted. But outside-" His tail loosened from her hip and curled around his drawn-on legs again.

"Monster, they called me. Freak. Spawn of hell. Abominable. Dangerous..." She curled her fingers into her thighs. Kurt didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He was an angel, wonderful and magnificent, and the fact that people didn't treat him like this infuriated her.

Kurt let out a gasp. "I know none of this is true. I'm not a monster, not a spawn of hell, not abominable, but..."

"It still hurts." He nodded and she felt her heart break in her chest. "Oh Kurt..." She didn't care that they were sitting on the railing of a balcony that hovered several meters above the ground, but acted on instinct.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the blue mutant. He froze for a few seconds, but quickly recovered from his shock.

Under her touch, she could feel him relax and bury his face in her hair while his hands clawed at her back. It didn't hurt, but even if it did, she wouldn't say anything. Something slowly wrapped around her middle and it took her a little too long to realize it was his tail.

"You don't deserve this. You least of all of us," she murmured into his chest and felt his grip on her tighten. "You're a wonderful person, an angel, and I'm very grateful to know you." There was silence between them, though neither of them was uncomfortable. She snuggled against him as he buried his face in her hair and his arms and tail wrapped around her.

The softly breathed "thank you" was carried away by the wind, but she heard it anyway and wrapped her arms around him even tighter. If it had been a warmer night, she could have stayed in his arms for hours, but this night was cold and she soon began to shiver, despite the warmth radiating from Kurt's body.

At first she tried to suppress it, not wanting to let the moment go, but over time her trembling became so bad that Kurt noticed it as well and broke away from her, eliciting a complaining whimper from her. He, however, paid no attention and just looked at her with wide, worried eyes. "Meine Liebe, you're freezing to death. Why are you wearing such thin clothes?"

"It wasn't really the plan to go out," she confessed through chattering teeth and Kurt swung himself elegantly from the railing to offer her his hand. She gratefully accepted it and as soon as her feet touched the cold ground, she felt something warm envelop her.

Kurt had put the blanket back around her shoulders as well as wrapping his arm around her middle. He smiled down at her and finally he looked the way she knew he would - wide, fang-toothed smile, bright eyes and a curling tail.

"Come on, my dear, let's go inside. After all, I can't risk my favorite person catching a cold, can I?" She grinned slightly and really hoped he couldn't see the blush in her cheeks. From his smile, he very well could. " Don't let Rogue hear you say that."

He chuckled softly and led her through the hallways to her room. She stopped in front of her door, the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and looked up at him as he began to melt into the shadows again, though this time she had no trouble spotting him.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured with a smile and she lightly smiled.

"You too. And Kurt?" she called back to him as he tried to turn around. Her smile turned a little sheepish.

"If you have bad dreams again or are plagued by bad memories... My door is open to you. Any time."

Kurt's smile widened and his tail curled slightly at the tip as he carefully took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Don't worry, meine Liebe." He looked up at her through his lashes and his gaze was so soft and appealing at the same time that she felt like she would instantly burst. "

Just this time near you will be enough to keep me from having bad dreams for the next few weeks."

He gently let go of her hand, winked at her and disappeared into a dark cloud with a slight 'bamf'.

Frozen, blushing heavily, she stood there and looked at the spot where Kurt had been standing before she chuckled softly and turned towards her room. God, this man....

#x men #x men movies #x men comics #x men 97 #x men the animated series #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men x reader

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emmyrosee · 2 years

Note

Omg the katsuki fic was so cuteeee. I was literally melting 🫠. Can you delivered another one please 🙏🏽

i literally can’t believe that y’all like my soft bakubabe like I was scared af-

——-

There’s a belief that Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t snuggle.

It’s a lie, bold face lie, and you know first hand that if anyone could be a fly on the wall to see just how affectionate and snuggly he could be, you know their jaws would slack. For now, they laugh dead in your face when you insinuate that Katsuki give you any affection.

But that’s alright; it’s how Katsuki wants the illusion to be portrayed, and to be frank, you have no shame in admitting the situational pleasure you get from knowing you’re the only one who gets to see him like that.

Especially after a long day, when he’s exceptionally pliant. You couldn’t imagine sharing such a sweet sight with anyone else.

“I’m home,” Katsuki calls, and you know the tv is loud enough to find you, so you smile and let him come to you as he always will. You’re just so comfy, surely he’ll understand.

He goes silent in your kitchen, and you cock a brow.

Okay. Maybe he won’t.

“I said I’m home!”

“Babe I’m in the bedroom!” You laugh, tossing your phone to the side. “God, you will live if you come to find me for once.”

“I could be killed in this very hallway,” he grumbles from said hallway, wasting no time in slipping off his shirt and tossing it on the floor the minute he crosses the threshold into your room. “High bounty got this pretty head.” The minute his currant eyes lock onto yours, you watch his shoulders visibly relax, the furrow in his brows softening. You give him a smile, and he huffs know acknowledgement.

“Hey baby,” you smile, patting the bed next to you for him to come next to you. He grunts softly in acknowledgment, striding to the bed before positively plopping down next to you. You snort and wrap a loving arm around him, immediately feeling him loosen up from your touch alone. “How was your day?”

“Long,” he grumbles. “Jus’ wanted to come home to you.”

You bite back the adoring ‘awww’ that wants to bubble from your throat, instead letting him get comfy against the mattress and settled against you. “I’m glad you’re home now, Katsuki.”

He hums in agreement before he gently starts to nudge you away, but it doesn’t faze you much. You know he likes to find his own comfort against you, where and how close he’d like you, and all you can do is let yourself be malleable to his hearts content.

And content, he seems. As he starts to lay down in your lap, there’s a small, happy smile settled on his cheeks with each movement against you and the blankets, one you only get to see on rare occasions like this, when he’s got nothing on his mind but your love and your love alone.

“Is it possible you’re not mad at anything right now?” You snort, watching him settle between your legs. Despite your teasing, your hands find their way into his hair, smoothing the fluffy locks and scratching lovingly behind his ear. Goosebumps raise over his skin at the contact, and he rests his head on your thigh.

“Dunno,” he mumbles against your skin. “Weather’s pretty shitty. My nail broke earlier. There’s plenty to still be pissed about.”

“Right yes- how dare I assume the big, bad, Bakugou Katsuki is any form of relaxed?”

“How dare you indeed.” He wraps his arms around your waist and noses at the softness of your belly, doing anything and everything in his power to be as close as possible to you. “But it’s okay, I’ll still keep you.” You offer him a snort and he smiles softly, his grip not loosening as you settle back against the mattress some more. A hand cups his warm cheek, and he angles his jaw into your touch.

How cute.

“Since when are you so sweet?” You coo adoringly, nuzzling your nose into the fluff of his hair, thumb stroking over the swell of his cheek.

He cocks a brow at you, but smirks nonetheless, “I’m always sweet.”

“Oh, you so are not!” You laugh, fingers carding through his blonde locks lovingly, and if he had an argument against it, it dies on his tongue the minute your hand is in his scalp. Whether intentional or not, you’re good at the game you play to make him be quiet. “Don’t even try it, you brat.”

“I’m your brat though,” he hums, shifting to lay against your chest; he hums in satisfaction as he melts like butter against you, finally content in his position. He noses at your collarbone and takes selfish inhales of your scent, his eyes closing and you can only watch fondly as he clearly makes no intentions of moving again now that he’s burrowed against you to his desire. “Don’t you dare get up- we’re comfy.”

“We are,” you agree, planting some small kisses to his hairline to make him loosen up even more. “My bratty snuggle bug…”

“If I wasn’t so comfortable, I’d go puke at that.”

“You love your pet names and you know it.”

He nuzzled his face into the curvature of your warm neck even more, “whatever. Don’t make it weird.”

“Sure, baby.”

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zerobaselove · 1 year

Text

calling zb1 by their full names

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warning: hanbin calls reader m'lady jokingly, nothing else that i can think of? lowercase intended, not proofread.

notes: i've been in a bit of a slump recently but this was just so cute i couldn't not write it (even if it took some time) so i hope it's okay!

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

it wasn't often that your boyfriend jiwoong got overly clingy, but it was even less often that it happened while you were trying to work. like usual, you had left your paper until the last day and you were trying to get it done at a timely pace, not wanting to spend your night hunched over your laptop with a cup of coffee to keep you company throughout the night.

but jiwoong insisted on having your attention; he was just trying to get you to take a much needed break. he could tell you were getting restless in the same spot, and that couldn't be good for your quality of work. "c'mon darling, just a five minute break." he suggested, tugging on your arm lightly as he took note of your bouncing leg.

"kim jiwoong." you deadpanned, not upset or anything, just frustrated with your paper and lack of time management skills. you didn't mean to come off harsh so you considered quickly apologizing, until you saw your boyfriend with a playful grin on his face, and before you could ask why, his mouth was opening.

"might as well get used to saying my last name," he grabbed your hand with his, playing with your fingers momentarily, "especially since one day it'll be yours too." you couldn't help the blush that creeped up on your face as you finally shut your laptop for a moment, turning to face the bold boy you had grown to love.

"kim jiwoong, you really are something else."

zhang hao ;

you and zhang hao often found yourselves sitting in a comfortable silence; sometimes accompanied by the faint hum of the tv or a quiet melody playing from the speakers as you each did your own things. zhang hao had found himself a comfy spot in the corner of the couch, glasses perched on his nose with a blanket wrapped over his legs and a book in hand, and you were scrolling through whatever interested you on your phone.

you had seen some sort of trend going on— people calling their partners by their full names as opposed to the usual go-to pet names, and you couldn't help yourself. you had to try.

"hey zhang hao," you started, looking up at the boy who immediately pulled his eyes from the story in front of him, a look of concern on his face. he couldn't help it though; that was out of character for you, and he knew if he had done something you'd just tell him. you two were good like that. so he immediately assumed something was up with you, "everything okay, my love?"

his concern was cute, you couldn't lie. his caring nature always made your heart flutter, especially in times like this where he is just being overly cautious. in your moment of silence he had gotten up, bringing his blanket with you as he sat beside you and draped it over both your legs, asking if you wanted to talk about anything.

"oh lovely," you started, a smile pulling at your lips, "i just wanted to see how you'd react, it's a trend of some sort." he only laughed and shook his head, "well now you're stuck with me here, i'm not moving back over there."

hanbin ;

in an attempt to have a cute couple bonding moment, you and your boyfriend hanbin had decided it would be a good idea to try and bake something together. he insisted it would go great, but now that he had flicked flour at you, you were seeing his real motive.

"sung hanbin," you put your hands on your hips, voice stern yet still playful; you weren't sure how seriously he could take you when you had a white handprint on your cheek and flour dusting your shirt. "y/n," he teased, standing up straight and giving you a small bow. the two of you stood there for a moment exchanging mischievous looks before hanbin extended his hand out, "may i have this dance, m'lady." it was only then that you took note of the slow song fading in over the speakers.

deciding to drop your act, and opt in on his, you took his hand graciously, "i'd be honored."

it was times like this that you were thankful for your boyfriend's extensive dance training as he took the lead with ease, slowly dancing around the kitchen with you in his arms, breaking into fits of laughter every once in a while. with little to no warning hanbin had spun you, resulting in a less than gracious whip around from you before he dipped you slightly with his arm on the small of your back.

the two of you pulled away giggling as he brought his hand up to caress your cheek, "you have something here," he laughed, lightly wiping the flour off your cheek, "hmm, i wonder who did that."

matthew ;

"hi baby," matthew smiled, pulling you into a hug as he walked through the door. you quickly were enveloped by his scent and warmth as you relaxed into his touch, "hi matthew," you said simply.

you hadn't thought much about your words, but it seems the lack of a pet name really caught your boyfriend off guard, a pout quickly replacing his bright smile. "matthew? just matthew?" he questioned, almost in disbelief. sure he was being a little dramatic, but he thought he had every reason to be. "hmph," he crossed his arms, turning away from you, "i see how it is."

you couldn't help but laugh at your boyfriend's childish, yet endearing antics. it was one of the many things you loved about him. "how what is?" you tried to coax a confession out of him, just to see if he was feeling stubborn or not. your question was quickly answered as you were met with silence. as much as you thought this side of matthew was entertaining, you really just wanted to see his smile again.

you placed a quick peck on his cheek and he immediately softened at the gesture; his arms fell to his sides before wrapped around your waist, preventing you from escaping too far which caused you to smile. "all better?" you questioned, looking up at the boy.

"depends," he hummed, playing with the hem of your shirt, "are you gonna call me matthew again?" as much as you wanted to play along a bit longer, you really missed your boyfriend and just wanted to spend time with him, "you're so cute baby," you cooed, watching his face heat up at the nickname.

"better."

taerae ;

you had been looking forward to today all week— you and taerae had planned a picnic date now that the weather was warming up and you were thrilled. you couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon; sat on a blanket with your boyfriend eating snacks and chatting and watching people pass by as you made conversation.

you had told taerae to meet you there, giving you the perfect opportunity to set everything up before you watched him walk across the field of your local park. "hi my sunshine," he beamed as you got up to hug his taller frame

"hi taerae~" you dragged out the last syllable which caused him to smile at the cute mannerism. he brought his hand up to ruffle your hair, "i like the way you say my name," it was your turn to smile, a blush rising to your cheeks as you repeated his name a few more times.

this time he took your hand in his as you both walked back to the nicely laid out blanket in the grass, "c'mon now, don't wear it out."

the two of you got comfortable on the ground, enjoying the sunny day and slight breeze that went by. at some point you found yourself with your head in taerae's lap as his hands carded through your hair, and there is nowhere you'd rather be.

ricky ;

you were always impressed with your boyfriend's language capabilities; his fluency in multiple languages always stunned you, but even more so now that you were trying to learn a language yourself. you felt bad that ricky was always accommodating to you, and so, behind his back, you had begun learning chinese a little while ago. and it was not an easy task, to say the least.

you spent all your free time studying, and while you hadn't gotten far in conversational skills, you had figured out one thing— how to confess to the boy. sure, you had professed your love for him on multiple occasions, but this would be special, a sign of your affection in his mother tongue. and so as you sat there next to your boyfriend one evening, you thought it would be a good time to practice.

taking a deep breath and trying to remember the correct tones, you attempted the confession, "shen quanrui, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ," you managed to stutter your way through, much less smoothly than you had practiced, but you managed. you tried to read the expression on your face to see if you had said it correctly, but before you knew it he was cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips.

"so you understood me?" you questioned, a small smile tugging at your lips. soon enough the boy was spewing back responses in chinese, faster than you could keep up with at your very basic skill level. "woah woah, slow down, i'm not that good yet." you chuckled.

"well you've got yourself a new tutor then," he smiled, pulling you into his side, "god i love you." he mumbled, more so to himself than you. but you were just glad he got the message.

gyuvin ;

"kim gyuvin," you sighed, shaking your head at the state you had found your boyfriend in. you had only left him alone for a few minutes, but by the time you had come back he had somehow managed to cover himself in the paints spread out on the palette; at this point he had more paint on him than you had gotten on the canvas.

you had run to the other room for just a moment, needing to grab your bag with a couple extra paint brushes to finish up your painting for your art class. gyuvin had insisted earlier in the day to keep you company while you painted, and it was appreciated. but you could tell he was getting antsy just sitting there, and you supposed that's how he ended up looking like a kindergartener's finger painting.

"y/n," he mocked back, a playful tone accompanying his hands on his hips as he looked at you with a smlie. "i'd like to think i'm much prettier than your painting." he gestured to his frame, highlighting the paint that he had seemed to trip into. "maybe if you gave me attention i wouldn't have run around and tripped." his matter-of-fact tone made a laugh escape your lips.

"is that what the problem is?" you paused as he made his way closer to you, "you're covered in paint don't you dare," your threat was empty, but you tried reasoning with him regardless. "call me a cute name again then, my name isn't as fun."

you sighed, attempting to hold him at an arms length as his lips were comically puckered up. "yeah yeah, my cutie lovely sweet boyfriend, if you come near me with your wet paint covered body, we are gonna have problems." he carefully placed a kiss on your cheek, managing to not get you covered, "good enough for now."

gunwook ;

"gunwook c'mere," you called your boyfriend over to the couch that you had gotten quite comfy on, wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend. you didn't see the pout plastered on his face until he sat down next to you, his eyes looking like that of a lost puppy.

"not even wook?" it took you a few moments to realize what he meant by the question before connecting the dots— you hadn't called him a cute nickname like normal, and now he was sat next to you sulking as if it were the end of the world. and god was it ever cute.

you cleared your throat for a moment as you shook your head, "silly me," you started, catching his attention, "i forgot the most important part," you grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze, "my gunwook!" you enthused, watching the smile spread across his cheek wider than you had ever seen.

that seemed to make everything better in his world as his cheeks flushed a light pink and he brought his free hand up to cover his mouth for a moment before composing himself enough to respond.

"my y/n!" he matched your energy, pulling you impossibly closer into his side, as if to claim you as his own. but you were his, and he was yours. and you wouldn't have it any other way, at least not when he's as cute as he is.

yujin ;

you and your best friend yujin had a tradition; it might not seem like much, but it had become routine for the two of you to spend your nights in the summer laid out in his backyard, watching the stars and chatting about whatever came to your mind. random thoughts or worries, really whatever plagued your mind.

you hadn't thought much about the words leaving your mouth, that was the joy about being with your best friend. you wrapped up your aimless question, "but i mean, who cares right? i have you yujin." you said simply, turning to the boy, only to see a sad look in his eyes. "what's wrong?" you reached out, resting your hand on top of his.

"you called me yujin," he mumbled, barely audible past the pout across his lips. you couldn't hide the confusion on your face, so you had to press a little more, "but, that's your name?" you were simply thinking aloud at this point, not quite grasping the boy's point yet.

the pout didn't leave his lips despite your obvious remark, "am i not your jinnie anymore?" you couldn't help but smile at the boy's innocent confession, "oh yujin," you started, turning to prop yourself on your arm and face him, "you'll always be my jinnie."

"okay good," he let out a sigh of relief, feeling the quickly approaching weight on his chest subside, "and you'll always be my y/n, right?" you simply nodded, giving the boy the confirmation he needed before turning back to admire the stars in the sky— he'd always be your jinnie, as long as the stars shined in the sky.

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines

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devildomwriter · 5 months

Text

Believe In What Your Heart is Saying | Leviathan x Reader

.6K Words | GN! Reader | CW: none

Leviathan struggled to calm his heart as he paced his floor, occasionally bumping against the jellyfish lights as he did so.

Henry watched from the aquarium concerned. Leviathan didn’t usually get like this over anything other than his anime and idols and this time Leviathan mouthed the same thing over and over again. The red shade on his face didn’t dim no matter how many times he practiced.

“___, will you, b-b-be, be-b-b-be! Aaaack I can’t say it! Why can’t I say it!?” Leviathan bemoaned and turned to Henry. He placed his hand against the tank and asked Henry for help but the fish did not know how to respond.

Leviathan nodded. “You’re right! I’m too pathetic. They’ll just say no, so why bother?”

Henry blew bubbles at Leviathan trying to communicate he’d said no such thing and Leviathan continued to belittle himself until the clock struck eight and he jumped to his feet, panicking.

“I-is it already time!?” He gasped and quickly requested the password.

“The Christmas password is Ruri’s Santa uniform is the cutest in the worlds!” You called from the other side of the door.

Leviathan swallowed the knot in his throat and opened the door with a shaking hand. He had to keep it together, he couldn’t let you notice anything was different.

But when he saw you in your cute Christmas sweater with a bucket of popcorn to share with him, his blush deepened.

“What’s up with you, Levi? You’re redder than Rudolph’s nose.”

Leviathan laughed awkwardly at your Christmas reference and gestured to the beanbags in front of his TV.

“L-let’s sit down n-now.”

You raised a brow at him curiously, knowing he was acting oddly but agreed. You sat down on the beanbag and Leviathan rushed to grab a throw blanket for you. He wrapped it around you and you beamed up at him.

“Thanks! You’re the sweetest.”

“Wh-huh? Like lol…no j-just…being a good host!”

Leviathan sat down next to you but not as closely as usual.

“What happened with you? Did I finally lose to Ruri-Chan?”

“Huh!? What? Like that’s even possible you’re a million times cuter than Ruri!”

You weren’t expecting that direct of an answer and blushed. As soon as Levi realized what he’d said his face turned even redder than it had been all day.

Henry watched in anticipation from the aquarium as Levi hid in his sweater and tried stuttering an excuse.

“Wh-wh-what I meant was—“

“You’re cute too Levi!” You exclaimed.

“C-cute…?” He didn’t seem too enthused at being called cute although he was still blushing.

“Yes. And handsome.” You said matter of factly.

“Huh! N-no way. Not some gross normie otaku like me!”

You shook your head and glared at him and he gulped in surprise.

“Stop putting yourself down. Are you saying I’m a bad judge?”

He looked shocked and shook his head. “N-no. Everything you do and say is perfect.”

“We’ll I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Oh no, did I say something stupid? Ugh!”

Levi tried to back away but you didn’t let him and wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything wrong. Now come on. We’re watching Christmas movies, aren’t we? I’ve been really excited about this.”

“M-me too. I’ve been excited too…B-Because…” he whispered the last part too quietly for you to hear so you leaned in face close to his.

Leviathan blinked in surprise. Assuming you’d heard him confess his feelings, he leaned in to meet your lips.

You were surprised he’d be so bold and realized what he must’ve said as he cupped your cheek with his hand. You blushed and grinned into the gentle touch of your lips.

The kiss was a little awkward but it meant everything to you. He finally pulled away, red and you’re face matched his. You weren’t expecting him to finally confess, it caught you by surprise.

“Hey, Levi…”

“Y-yeah?”

“Tell me again.”

“What? Like, do you want me to want me to have a heart attack? Lol.”

You shook your head and batted your eyes teasingly. His demon form slipped out in his excitement and nodded.

“Then I’ll tell you as many times as you want! I-I love you!”

#obey me drabble #obey me leviathan #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas #leviathan x reader #omswd leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me x reader

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slutforleeminho · 1 year

Note

Can you please do perv!chn × reader with oral fixation 😩😩

how did you know I had a thing for perv Chan??🤭

Roommate • Bangchan

Chanxf!reader, roommate au, sub Chan, soft dom reader, perv Chan, oral fixation reader

Warnings: masturbation, finger sucking, oral (f)receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, cumming inside, multiple orgasms (f).

“Mm” Chan moaned around your thumb that was placed in between his lips and atop his tongue. “Fuck, you look so hot like this. Sucking on my fingers like there’s no tomorrow. You’re such a good boy.” At that he whimpered. You pulled your thumb out to rest on his bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. Lips coated in his saliva and his pupils blown out, looking up at you all innocently. As if he wasn't on his knees waiting on your next move.

“So are you going to tell me why you have the pair of panties I’ve been looking for for weeks now? And why you where jerking off with them?” His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding direct eye contact with you. A light shade of red painted his face. He was embarrassed. Not only that he was hopelessly trying to get off with the underwear he stole from you. But that he was caught in the act. Sprawled out on the bed with the thin material wrapped around his dick, his fist holding them in place. Lazily rutting his hips up into his fist while imagining you in the black lace. Did you wear these often? Were they your favorite? Did you wear them under your cute teddy bear pajama pants? He was so close to busting his nut all over them when his door swung open.

“Hey chan have yo- uh” you froze at the sight in front of you. It was….. beautiful. A thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and a whimper escaping his lips, but he was cut off. “Y/n I- “ he took the underwear and shoved it under the blanket as well as covering himself up. But it was too late, you had already seen everything.

And that’s how you got in this predicament.

“Tell me” lifting his face to look you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry. You must think I’m so weird. I promise I tried not to look at you in that way but it was so hard. Your just so…. I’m sorry. If you want me to move out or-“

“What? No Chan I don’t want you to leave. I just wanted you to tell me how I make you feel”

“You make me feel insane” he has no idea where the confidence came from.

“How so?” You set your hand on his head and played with his hair waiting for an answer.

"When you walk out of the bathroom in nothing but that tiny towel that barely covers anything. Or when you "accidentally" drop something and bend over, giving me a whole ass show. And especially when you think I'm not home, and you decide to pleasure yourself with your door wide open. The sounds you make are so heavenly."

"Bold of you to assume that I didn't know you were home" Oh you knew alright, and you made sure to be extra loud on those days.

"What-" He sat there in confusion.

"And I was very disappointed when you never came to help me out. But that's okay you can make up for it tonight, yeah?"

"I'll do anything for you"

"Stand up for me then" He immediately obeyed and stood to his feet, never breaking eye contact. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him in one swift motion. He was taken by surprise but quickly kissed you back with such hunger and anticipation. His hand went straight to your lower back bringing you closer to him. Mouths sloppily sucking on each other's lips and tongues gliding over each other. It was getting so hot, with the combination of Chan's body heat and your own temperature rising from the intense making out, you couldn't take it anymore. You disconnected you lips and swiftly pulled your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side to be forgotten about. His lips parted, and before he could catch it, a whimper escaped his lips when your naked breast were before his eyes.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening, all his perverted fantasies were coming to life, and he didn't know what he did to deserve this but he was more than thankful.

"Will I be the only one striping tonight?" You began removing your sweatpants, leaving you only in your underwear,

"I mean i'd be happy just to watch if you wanna put on a show for me" a smirk creeping up on his face but soon faded when you spoke.

"If you don't fuck me tonight than you never will. But if that's what you want than i'd be more than happy to oblige."

"I'd be an idiot to pass this up"

"You'd be an idiot to have a whole ass debate while I'm standing here half naked ready for you to do whatever you want to me." you spat. The heat in between your legs getting unbearably uncomfortable.

"You're right" He quickly removed his shirt and grabbed your waist pushing you down on the bed, hovering over you. He placed his lips on yours for only a short moment before leaving kissing all over your jaw and neck. Nipping and leaving love bites that would be a dark purple by the morning. He was groping your tits hard, pinching and pulling at your nipples. Which caused you to moan loudly and grab the back of his head, tugging on his curly hair. Trailing down your body, he was marking you as his, sucking on every section of skin he could reach. Once he was met with your clothed cunt he let out a satisfied hum when he saw the wet patch forming.

"Excited?" he said teasingly.

"Don't get too cocky or I won't suck yours." you were not in the mood to be messed with. "So stop teasing"

"Whatever you want princess." he hooked his fingers under your underwear and drug them down your legs, throwing them aside. He swore he's never seen such a pretty pussy, glistening with arousal that he was the cause of. He placed middle and ring finger to your heat to spread your lips apart and get a better look at his next meal. You flinched hard and let out a guttural moan when he licked a long stipe from your entrance to your clit, stopping to suck on your sensitive bud.

"Oh fuck! Yes Chan right there. That feels so good." He was eating you out like he was starved and you were the first food he's seen in days. But you weren't complaining, if anything this was probably the best head you've gotten in a long time.

He took to fingers to rub you while he took a short breather and then slowly entered them into you. The stretch felt amazing, his long fingers were reaching spots that you never could. He reattached his lips to your sex and sucked harder than before.

"I'm so close- shit please don't stop" you said between breaths. You started to involuntarily roll your hips against him and push his face closer to you, basically riding his face when you orgasm finally hit.

Eyes rolling to the back of you head and almost screaming his name, you came all over his fingers. He switched from sucking to soothingly licking you until you came down from your high. He removed his fingers from your dripping cunt and cleaned them with his mouth, licking them clean while you watched. His tongue sticking out to run it over his fingers, a little bit of spit falling from the side of his mouth. You swore you could watch this all day, but you had other plans.

"Come here" you grabbed his arm and pulled him on top of you into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Feeling on his bare chest and abs, your hand traveled to his hard on to palm him through the thin material of his sweatpants. He grunted into the kiss at the much needed friction. Your patience started running thin once the need to have him inside of you became unbearable.

"Fuck me baby" you pulled away from the kiss. "Please I need you so bad"

He could've came just from you words. You? Needed him? How long have you waited for this? Perhaps just as long as him, and if that was the case he didn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

He stood to remove his remaining clothes, and returned in between your legs where he belonged. He watched your face contort in pleasure when he pushed inside of you, a whimper escaping his lips from his own pleasure. The way your warm walls wrapped around him beckoning him to rail into you, but he knew better.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Dreamed about this." he huffed out as he picked up the pace.

"Yeah? Does it feel as good as you imagined?"

"Fuck, it feels so much better." he set a steady rhythm and was fucking you so good at this point. Your walls were uncontrollably clenching around him causing him to whimper every time.

"Shit if you keep doing that i'm gonna cum" he whined.

"Give it to me, I want to feel you cum inside of me chan, please i need it" you coaxed him closer to the edge but he refused to release until he felt you cum around his cock. He positioned one of your legs over his shoulder, hitting deeper than before and taking his thumb to stimulate your clit. It was all to much for you, this new position, him pounding into you hitting that one spot, the slight overstimulation from your first orgasm.

"Oh- shi- chan I- I'm gonna-" you couldn't even form words at this point.

"Me too baby. Cum all over me."

And that's all it took to have you cumming on his dick, your walls clamping down on him. Searching from something to hold onto for stability, you grabbed his hand and squeezed.

His hips shuddered as his orgasm washed over him, spilling his seed into your cunt. He was so sensitive but he didn't stop until he was sure you were satisfied.

He collapsed next to you while you both tried to catch your breaths.

"We should've done this sooner' you said

"Yeah no shit"

Taglist: @yumiblogs

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romanreignseater · 1 year

Text

The Mouth & Finger Vigilante.

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Slight fluff and admiration, which leads straight into a nasty oral session 😁.

“Roman’s fingers and mouth are members of the self-appointed group that solve problems. The problem is being away from his wife without pleasuring her. So, here comes his mouth and fingers to save the day.”

A/N: I wrote this in a single morning 😭. I was dreaming about to be honest. I hope you all love it. Thanks for the support on my last fic.

GIF: @romanreigns

Roman enters the house at 1:14a.m.; after an appearance on Monday Night Raw and a long fight back home; he was exhausted. The three family dogs laid across their beds in the living room, sleeping peacefully. His bag softly thrown to the bench by the front of the door and his shoes put beside it. A sigh leaves his mouth.

He quietly walks up the grand staircase of his multi-million dollar beachfront mansion, and to his left, his children’s bedrooms. Roman opens the door to check on his babies. Then, peddles to the side of their beds to give them each a kiss on their cheeks. The doors close, and his eyes focus to the end of the hallway.

The love of his life, behind those double doors, probably sleeping serene and in his t-shirt. He strides to the doors and opens them.

There she is.

His baby.

His wife.

The mother to his children.

The woman who made him into the man he is today.

And he couldn’t be more grateful.

But, he knows she deprived. His love over FaceTime could only be so much. His love in real life is far more intense. Roman’s been gone for about a week traveling up and down the states promoting WrestleMania 39, and he’s finally arrived back home.

He instantly crawls into the bed beside her and hugs her tightly. She groans as she was awakened by bear-like arms cradling her. “Hey baby.” His smile as big as ever. “Hey! When did you get here?” His love asks with a groggy, yet enthusiastic voice. “About 6 minutes ago, stopped by the kids room first.” She smiles lightly as her eyes begin to flutter closed. “That’s nice.”

He stares at her beautiful glass like skin, as she cuddles up to him more. His eyes once filled with light begin to darken. Her juicy thigh rubs against the top of his. When he remembers all the calls on FaceTime. Her begging and screaming his name, as she wanted the “real thing” back. She missed his touch and he could tell.

He lets go of her and assumes the position on top of her. His baby moves around slightly, when he then pulls the blanket down her body. Just as he knew, his big blue shirt wrapped around her body. Roman gently lifts his shirt to her collarbone, when her breasts became exposed. She twitches for a moment as the cold air from the AC hits her perky nipples. ‘Fuuuuck.’ He thinks to himself. Her tits did look good; good enough to eat.

The Tribal Chief massages her breasts softly as she moaned. He comes up a little bit to suckle her little perky nipples. Roman lapped both of her breasts; covered heavy in his saliva. Her light moans encouraged him to suck a little harder and release. As her perky, wet nipples begin to dry up, he slowly caresses his hands down her slim waist, to her wide hips. Her panties clinged between his fingers as he pulled them down to get to his prized cherry.

She stirs again as the cold air hits her cunt. She stirs once more as Roman lowered his face to her pussy and his hot breath hit it ever so intensely. He begins quickly and licks a bold stripe from her hole to her sensitive clit. “Aaaaaa, that’s good baby.” Her praises make him smirk. He then sops up all her wetness to spread it so viciously around her fat cunt. His tongue flicks up and down her pussy to create more juices.

“Baby.” She moans as her elbows were now propped up and her eyes looking into his. “Eat it baby.” Roman slaps her thigh and she yelps. “Whatchu think I’m doing mama?!” His devilish eyes lowered even more as he continued his abuse on her pussy with his tongue. Her head lolled back against the pillow she was sleeping on, and Roman’s mouth soon consumed the entirety of her cunt. Her clit was sucked and licked so hard, and her legs began to shake.

“Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” He exclaimed.

Her eyes now set on his as sucked the life out of her cunt. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He shook his head vigorously side-to-side with his tongue laid flat against her pussy. “Ooooohhhhh my GODDDD! DON’T STOP.” Her pussy began to convulse as she reached her high.

Roman licked up all her essence. His nose, chin, and beard smothered in her cum. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and climbs up the bed to his fucked out wife. She panted heavily as her thighs clenched together to stafe off that feeling. He grabs her face and sloppily kisses her; making her taste herself. She regains her breath, and slowly looks up at her man. His stare is cold when he spreads her legs again. His fingers where then placed deep inside the mouth of his wife.

She gagged as Roman shoved his two long digits into her throat. His spit covered fingers traveled down to her clenching hole. “AAAAAA! It’s too much!” She exclaimed as he entered her quickly. His fingers moved at a lightning speed, making the woman underneath him beg him to stop. Her cunt began squirting all over his hand and forearm. The inside of her thighs painted with her liquids and the silk sheets drenched as well.

Roman’s hand comes back up to the surface and he rubs her wetness all over her face. He slaps her lightly as she bits her lip sensually. He squishes her cheeks and spits into her wet mouth. She swallows and pulls her tongue back out to prove she swallowed. He grabs the end of his shirt on her body and wipes her face clean. He lays beside her to spoon her.

“Thank you baby, I missed you so much.” Her voice like music to his ears. “I know baby, I missed you too… But watch out for the morning after I drop the kids off at school.” Her breaths hitches.

“I’m taking you anywhere and everywhere around this house.” He moves his lips closer to her ear, “And I’m not stopping until it’s time to pick the kids up from school.” And with that it was a kiss on the cheek goodnight, but her head only surrounded by two things.

“8:00 a.m.”

Through

“2:30 p.m.”

Don’t we ALL love Roman Reigns?!

THE END!!

*Masterlist coming soon 😛. Also, I want to create a tag-squad; let me know if you’d like to be a part of it!!

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x female reader

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hyuuukais · 11 months

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ gravity

pairing ☆ lee felix x gn reader

genre ☆ fluff

warnings ☆ none (let me know if i missed something)

･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

credits roll but neither of you have the will to move, limbs entagled. you breath in his scent, relaxing further into his arms, back against his chest. you feel him relax deeper into the couch, a soft groan escaping his lips.

"should we go to bed?" you speak, voice barely above a whisper.

felix sighs, "it would probably be better for my neck, but i don't want to move."

you slowly drag yourself away from him, his arms outstretched as he whines for you to come back.

"come on," you grab his arms, helping him up as if he needs you to.

felix stumbles into you purposefully, chuckling as you attempt to steady him. you grin as he pulls you back against him, face on his shoulder. breathing in, you struggle to will yourself to move again, wanting to get lost in this moment.

your friendship with felix was... close. one always was touching the other, whether it be a hug, holding hands, a kiss on the cheek. multiple times had you been assumed a couple.

a best friend like felix was rare, and you didn't want to think about what your life would have been like if you didn't find each other. he'd held your hand through the hardest times in your life. he teased you relentlessly. he was your sun, and you, his moon.

but is your heart supposed to swell the way it does when he smiles at you? are your cheeks supposed to burn the way they do when he praises you?

you had close friends and sure, you were all pretty physically affectionate for the most part, but the way you were with felix was somehow... different. special. you chalked it up to him simply being your closest friend.

but as you stood there, frozen in the moment, breathing deeply, you wondered...

taken away from your thoughts, felix moved away, his hands lightly trailing down your arms, finding your hands. he held onto your left hand, guiding you to his bedroom to settle in for the night. sleepovers were common with him.

felix laughed as you dove into bed, hands together like a professional. letting out a laugh of your own, you rolled around, hoodie hiking up a bit, but around felix, you were comfortable. he looked away, grinning.

before joining you in bed, he clicked his beside lamp off. he tucked himself under the covers, lifting the other side the best he could as you were pinning the edge down.

"get under here," he dragged his words, tugging the blanket a few times.

"i suppose i could do that," you sigh dramatically, flashing a smile his way.

the blanket was cold against your skin, but that didn't matter when you tucked yourself against felix, arm wrapping around his torso as he looked down at you.

"goodnight beautiful," his nose rested against your hairline, lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

you looked up at him, wondering how you were so lucky to have someone you could be so comfortable around. you pressed a kiss to his cheek, right by his nose.

"goodnight, my sun." you let your head fall against his pillow.

now it was his turn to lean down and kiss your cheek, a bit lower near your jaw. he could feel the smile forming on your face.

"oh, we're doing this now?" you moved away ever so slightly to look him in the eyes, finding a smile grace his features. "it's on."

this time it was the tip of his nose, then your jaw again, closer to your chin. you tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered with each kiss, this was normal for you two. you got bold, kissing right by the corner of his mouth.

time seemed to slow. felix pulled away, looking at you with stars in his eyes. his leaned in, kissing close to your mouth, bottom lip just barely touching your top one. you did this dance for a few more rounds, before it happened.

felix leaned in, one final time. his soft lips whispered over yours, and you could feel his hesitant breath. it wasn't until you put a hand on his neck that he seemed to make a desicion.

hand on your cheek, he pulled you in, kissing you softer than you've ever been kissed before. your heart was beating fast, a subtle shiver down your spine. when you parted, all you could focus on was his breath against your skin.

"you win."

♡♡♡

notes ☆ this may or may not be extremely loosely based on something that happened to me YEAAAARS ago. i could only wish for it to have been as romantic. wrote this in one go bc i felt like it! and i hope u enjoyed <3

#stray kids #skz #lee felix x reader #lee felix #lee felix imagines #lee felix scenarios #skz felix #stray kids felix #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #lee felix fanfic

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traumabuddies · 9 months

Text

wip wednesday

tagged by @rogerzsteven @wildlife4life @bucks118 @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @911onabc @transbuck @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine for this and tease tidbit tuesday, thank you!!! i've been slacking up on reading the wips but i WILL catch up later you all rock

so i wouldn't usually share that because i'm afraid some people would be mean about it for some reason. BUT it's my birthday and i wanted to share some of my kinktober petplay wip because it's really fun actually. it was supposed to be crack and it can still be that if you wanna read it like that but i don't think it actually is anymore oops.

The makeshift bed of thick blankets has been laid out on the floor, exactly where Eddie usually puts it. It’s small, but big enough for Buck to fit on it when he’s laying on his side with his knees pulled up like he is now, arms wrapped around them and eyes looking up at Eddie, strikingly blue and halfway to glazed over already. He’s also fully naked, which is not lost on Eddie, and he needs to see him properly now. “Aren’t you all cozy,” Eddie says, happy when it makes Buck perk up and his eyes focus. “Sit up, stay on the bed.” It was a surprise to Eddie when they first got together, to realize that Buck did not like to be told what to do in bed. Not in a way that he hated it, and nothing ever really was a command on Eddie’s end either, but at the slightest hint of direction, Buck would start doing something completely different. Almost like he took it as a challenge, saying, “Watch me,” with everything but his words. So when he gets like this, fully pupped up and receptive to Eddie’s every word, it’s always a thrill to watch him do exactly as he's told. Right now, he rights himself up until he’s sitting on his heels, hands on his lap and back straight. He knows it puts him on display, broad chest wide shoulders vulnerable, which is exactly what Eddie wants. He’s wearing the deep red collar today—“That one means you wanna be the best boy and take everything I give you,” he’d said when he gave it to him, which had resulted in Buck almost tripping over himself to put it on. It’s bold leather, with a silver heart for Eddie to attach the leash to, and it has a matching tail plug that Eddie’s assuming is in place too, if the remote in his hand is anything to go by. “That’s a good boy,” he says, deciding to check that he’s right by pressing on the lowest setting. On the other side of the room, Buck lets out a silent gasp. His hips buck up ever so slightly and his half hard cock gives a twitch, but his hands stay where they are, and he doesn’t move. Eddie turns it back off with an appreciative smile. “Oh, now that was very good.” He crouches where he is, excitement flashing in Buck’s eyes at the movement. “I think you might deserve a treat for that. How about a kiss?” Buck whines low in his throat, and Eddie chuckles fondly. “Alright, come here.” It only takes a few seconds for Buck to walk up to him, hands and knees used to it, and another one for Eddie to grab his face with a, “Hey, Buck,” before kissing him like he hasn’t seen him in weeks.

tagging @buck2eddie @buckleyseddie @alyxmastershipper @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @bvckandeddie @transbuck if you want to share something!

#wip wednesday #lex.writing #buddie #91 fic #this was for maya at first now it's as much for me ngl

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sehtoast · 9 months

Text

Guilt - (Depowered Homelander x OC) - All of You is Left to Love ch9

1.9k words

Summary: Homelander realizes the consequences of his actions affect much more than just himself.

Warnings: Light descriptions of bodily injuries.

Chapter Directory

What he hated, more than anything, was the waiting.

When would Ben get home? When would his little spider crawl through the window and into their bed?

This night in particular ate at Homelander's nerves in a way that left his entire body wracked with anxiety so deep it made him nauseous.

See, Ben always replies to his texts. Always shoots him a message when he knows it'll be a late night.

John must have texted hours ago. At first, just one message.

'Another late one?'

After roughly ten minutes without a response, he sent another.

'Will you be out long tonight?'

When that message went unanswered, he began to worry that a deep seated fear was coming true.

'Benny?'

'Come on babe, don't leave me hanging.'

By the end of the hour, he must have sent at least thirty texts.

He tried to convince himself that Benjamin was simply busy, but then that part of him slithered from deep within his mind to weigh in.

He left you. Don’t they all, eventually?

John didn’t even bother with a response. No refutation, no shake of his head to will away that voice he’s known since childhood. He just held back the tears, bit back on the panic, shuffling instead to the bedroom and grabbing the bottle of pills he’d come to rely on for sleep. He stared at the name on the bottle with a furrowed brow and melancholy eyes.

Benjamin Colyer, in bold font. His lover made a deal with Vought’s head doctor, all so he could sleep at night…

Two pills down the hatch.

He crawled into bed on Ben’s side, still at the mercy of his protector’s taunts, holding tight to his lover’s favorite blanket for comfort.

Homelander stared at the thread of texts for a minute and decided to try calling.

No answer, of course.

He wiped at his face aggressively, his other hand holding tight to his phone, praying that it’d buzz and let him know he wasn’t alone. Hoping that he’d feel his little spider’s arms wrap around him before the meds put him to sleep.

He drifted off before either happened.

When he did wake, it wasn’t to that stupid, chirping alarm tone that rouses Ben for work– nor was it to the sunrise peeking through the curtains. Ever the uneasy sleeper, even medicated, he was roused from his dreamless sleep by the feeling of a head settling on his chest.

The first thing he did was push Ben onto his back so that he could be the one using his love’s body as a pillow. Two things struck John as odd in that moment– strange enough to notice in his barely awake state. The first, that Benny still had his spider suit on.

The second was a wince– a tight breath held and exhaled as the arms he yearned for wrapped around him.

“What was that..?” He murmured, his head groggy and heavy from his medication.

A beat of silence, and another tight breath.

“Nothin’.”

In the past, he’d have been content to nod and fall back asleep without care. Self centered and ignorant, he’d assume all was well so long as he had all that he wanted.

John, however, was not that same man anymore. He was… different, now. A new chamber in his heart, growth– Ben’s influence coupled with a sprinkling of humility from losing his powers.

He smacked around the nightstand, banging the lampshade before switching the light on.

Homelander’s eyes widened, panic wriggling through his body like a million worms– a thousand pound weight forming in his gut.

“Wh– what…” is all he could muster.

Eyes roving over every inch of Ben’s body, breath caught in his throat.

Bruises everywhere were what stood out the most. A busted lip, a cut at the bridge of his nose, smatterings of purples and blues at Ben’s cheeks and jaw, trailing underneath the neckline of his suit.

The worst, though, was the three thick claw marks carved into Ben’s chest from his collarbone to just below his sternum. If not for the fact they were already scabbed over, he’d surely be cleaning up a river of blood.

Ben shushes him before he even can speak. “S’fine,” he whispers, groaning softly as he shifts his weight. His hand, bloodied and with a slight tremble, comes to Homelander’s face to…

To comfort him.

“Y’should see the other guy.” Ben exhales, head leaned back against the pillow. “Mm, never thought I’d fight a guy who can turn into a giant lizard, but…”

The little dose of humor spurred John from his shock, and his mind kicked into overdrive.

What to do? How to help him? Would he need to go to the hospital? Would it make everything worse to move him? Did–

Did his leak of Compound V lead to the creation of whatever fucking cockroach put their hands– their claws into his little spider? Was he responsible for this?

Deflect.

“I thought– Didn’t you get stronger after that time with the therapeutic V? How the fuck did this happen!?”

Deflect.

Ben smiled, lip stinging at the stretch.

“Starting to think I kept just about everything but the invulnerability…” A chuckle. Always jovial, even in the face of pain. “Go figure.”

With some coaxing and support, John managed to get Ben stripped and seated in the bathroom while he fumbled about with cotton balls and wound cleaner, guided by Benjamin’s directions.

“Sorry,” the wall crawler murmured as Homelander knelt before him, dabbing at the cut on his nose.

“For?”

“Making you worry. Waking you up.” Ben gave an apologetic, knowing smile. “Kept you waiting.”

Yeah, John’s inner voice retorted bitterly. Sure fuckin’ did.

He couldn’t say anything. If he opened his mouth, the guilt would come pouring out. If he hadn't leaked V, would Ben be like this now? Would his lover be out all the time cleaning up his mess?

Homelander could practically count on one hand the amount of times in his life that he felt truly bad for the consequences of his actions.

This…

This was one of them.

“I…”

The sound slipped free before he could stop it, and with it came the gnawing distress brewing deep in his gut.

“This is my fault…”

“Huh?” Ben’s brow furrowed. “What– wait, this?”

Homelander nodded, the discomfort of his accountability churning his all too human stomach.

“John, you did not make a giant lizard man and tell him to go terrorize the town.” Ben laughed incredulously. “Why in the world would that b– oh…”

The realization hit quickly.

Ben raised a hand to John’s face, stroking his thumb across the pink scar at his cheekbone.

“Babe,” he began, that unlimited fount of kindness within him leaking through every word. ”Yes, you leaked the stuff that made these guys. But you’re not responsible for what they chose to do with their powers.”

Ben certainly wouldn't look him in the eye and say that leaking V wasn't a total fuck up. Because it absolutely was. But blaming him, treating him maliciously for it wouldn't undo a single thing. The only redemption left now was to contain the mess. So, that's what he vowed to do.

He would contain Homelander's mess. Atone for his other half's wrongs.

John gazed up at him, eyes wide like a child receiving a reprimand.

“But I–”

“Nope,” Ben shushed him, thumb now at his lips. “Look, regardless, you’re here helping me patch up afterward. Helping me keep my head on my shoulders while I handle it.”

John leaned his head down, burying his face against Ben’s thigh. Clenching his eyes shut, fighting against himself. Wanted to hold the words inside, wanted so desperately not to outwardly be as weak as he felt.

You almost lost him. He almost didn’t make it home. You really do destroy everything you love…

He wished so much sometimes that his alter ego would shut up.

“Look at you…” He murmured, voice breaking. “What– What if you didn’t come home, huh? I’d be responsible for that, I–”

“Johnny…”

Neither said a word for a while, just… sat there. Silent apologies. Silent comforts. Ben's hand on Homelander's back, John's head and hands resting on Benjamin's thighs.

He looked as though he were knelt before an altar, praying to a deity. For forgiveness, perhaps.

For something already given.

"How do I fix your chest..?"

His voice was nearly nothing. Whispered, barely, into his love's lap.

Ben smiled down at him, though he couldn't see.

"Well," he began with a flutter of diffusing humor. "I think, honestly, we just gotta clean it. I bet that guy never cleans under his big lizard nails."

After some apprehensive touches, some cold wound cleaner, and a roll of gauze wrap, John finished cleaning and dressing Ben’s chest. He’d been so afraid to even graze the scabbed lacerations, so afraid to hurt Ben even more.

As they lay in bed, each of them exhausted, sleep remained elusive. Ben insisted that Homelander could rest his head upon his chest, despite the injuries. The web-head stared at the ceiling for a time, fingers idly stroking through John’s dark, shaggy hair as he contemplated Homelander’s guilt from earlier.

John had gone quiet since then, simply clinging to him.

Finally, with a sigh of contentment, Ben spoke.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Homelander’s response came as a nod.

Another beat of silence.

“I’m always gonna come home to you, babe.” Ben murmured. “I’m sorry I scared you…”

He contemplated his next words carefully. Didn't want to reveal too much about what he'd gone through in that fight.

"Y'know, when I was chasing him, he ran onto the bridge to Queens…"

The bridge to home…

"He started tossing cars off the side to distract me," Ben continued, gaze still fixed on the ceiling. "Got to a point where he pinned me down when I was trying to finish connecting a web to the guard rail, and…"

A deep exhale.

"After he clawed me, and I didn't think I could get him off of me, I realized he'd probably keep running this way once I was down and out, yeah?"

Homelander lifted his head to look at Ben. What was the point of this..?

"But, when I was pinned, I just… thought of you." Ben continued, eyes closing as he let his mind wander back. "Thought, what if, by some bullshit odds, he finds you. Hurls cars around or something, and one came through this window. Thought how you'd be if I didn't come home. How you'd react if you saw it on the news…"

Saw that I got killed.

"You, in that moment, were what I needed to keep going. Whether you believe it or not, I've got you fighting these bastards with me every day."

John had buried his face into Ben's neck, hand cupped at the other side.

"Shut up," Homelander whispered through the tightness of his throat. "Just shut up and sleep, please…"

Don't remind me that I have something to lose.

Something I can't protect anymore.

Ben shut his eyes once more. He understood without it being said. He always did.

Always would.

"I love you, too."

#homelander #homelander x oc #homelander fanfiction #homelander fanfic #the boys #the boys homelander #depowered homelander #the Benlander agenda

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years

Text

What Else Can I Do?

Pairing: Kate Bishop x flower power!reader

Synopsis: you and Kate get left behind on a mission and show each other your abilities

Masterlist

“Oh good. You’re awake.” Clint said as he leaned against Kate’s doorway.

“I am awake. Did you need me? Is there a mission?” Kate asked as she excitedly sat up in her bed.

“Even better. There’s a girl.”

“A girl?” Kate frowned. Clint smiled coyly at her before stepping to the side.

“In here.” He called. Kate watched as you joined Clint’s side and gave her a shy wave. Kates eyes softened at the sight of you and weakly waved back.

“Kate, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Kate. I’m assuming you’ll be friends since you’re close in age and girl power or whatever.” Clint explained as he waved his hand. Kate tried to get out of her bed to shake your hand without realizing her foot was tangled in her sheets. She immediately face planted on the floor with a hard thud. You gasped as Clint laughed and shook his head. Kate quickly got up and smoothed her shirt as if nothing had happened.

“Sorry about that. I’m Kate.”

“I’m Y/n.” You smiled and shook her hand. Clint noticed the way Kate turned bright red when you held her hand and smirked a little.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He said before winking at Kate. Kate gave him a look as he gave her a thumbs up behind your back. He quickly dashed out of the room before Kate could yell at him, leaving you alone with her in her room.

“So, uh, why are you here?” Kate asked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I meant it more like what brings you to here? I mean, to the tower here. What uh, what brings you here?”

“Mr. Stark just recruited me.” You chuckled. “I guess that means I’m on the team now? I’m not really sure. He said he’d call me when he needs me but right now he wants to focus on controlling my powers.”

“Powers? You have powers?” Kate asked with en excited smile.

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “Botany.”

“Botany? Like plants?” Kate’s eyes widened.

“Yeah. Like plants.” You confirmed, feeling butterflies in your stomach over how excited she was. Her interest made you feel bold, so you picked up her hand again and let it rest in your palm. Kate watched in awe as you waved your hand over her open palm, making a rose appearance out of nowhere and bloom right before her eyes.

“Wow. Look at that.” Kate whispered in awe as she stared at the flower.

“I’m not even sure I’ll be useful.” You shrugged. “But Mr. Stark said he could always use another superhero on his side.”

“Totally. I think you could be very useful.”

“Thanks.” You smiled shyly. “Mr. Stark seems to think so. He always said it would be nice to have another girl around.”

“I agree. I love girls.” Kate said, immediately regretting it.

“Same.” You smiled, making her relax. Kate watched as you took the flower from her palm and tucked it behind her ear. Kate gulped and flushed a rosy pink as you smiled.

“There. It looks better there than in your hand.” You told her, making her blush grow. Before she could say anything, she heard your name being called.

“That’s probably Mr. Stark. It was nice to meet you, Kate.” You smiled as her before leaving her room.

“Nice to meet you too.” She said, but you were already gone.

That night, Kate was watching something on the couch in the den when she felt a presence beside her. She looked away from the tv and saw you standing there with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Mind if I sit here?” You asked her and nodded towards the spot next to her on the couch. Kate immediately moved her leg and nodded her head.

“Yeah. Go ahead.” She smiled softly as you took a seat beside her. You folded your legs and your knees touched, making the two of you smile at each other.

“Hey. Check them out.” Tony nudged Natasha when he noticed you and Kate sitting on the couch.

“That’s the new girl, right?” Nat asked. “She’s cute. And she seems to like Kate.”

“Kate likes her.” Clint snorted as he watched Kate struggle to be cool.

“Oh yeah? You think there’s a romance brewing?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“There could be.” Clint shrugged. “But Kate’s too awkward to go for it. And I don’t know enough about Y/n yet to know if she’d make the first move.”

“Hm.” Natasha hummed.

“What are you thinking, Romanoff?” Tony wondered.

“I’m thinking maybe we should interfere.” Natasha smiled wickedly at her colleague.

“How would we do that?” Clint asked.

“How about this? We could take a little well needed vacation and pretend we’re going on a mission. They could have the place to themselves for a few days. That should push them together.” Tony suggested, making Natasha and Clint smile.

“All right.” Nat nodded. “I could get behind a little vacation.”

“Excellent.” Tony grinned. “Then it’s a plan. We leave tomorrow.”

The next day, you woke and Kate woke up to an empty tower. Kate looked in a couple rooms before finally checking her phone. When she saw that the others had left for a “mission”, she went to the kitchen for some breakfast. When she walked in, she found you sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal.

“Hi Kate.” You looked up from your cereal and smiled.

“Oh. Hi. Hello. How’s goes it? I mean, how does it go? I uh - oh God - how are you? You’re not on the mission?” Kate stumbled over her words as she bumped into the chairs at the table.

“No. Mr. Stark said he can’t use me until I gain better control of my powers.” You shrugged and went back to your cereal.

“Oh.” Kate said and frowned a little.

“What?” You wondered.

“Well he said he couldn’t use me either. But because I’m “in the way” and “kinda annoying”, to quote him.“

“Well if it’s any constellation, I don’t think you’re annoying.” You told her, making her laugh.

“What?” You wondered.

“It’s consolation. Not constellation. Constellations are the stars.” She corrected you with a fond smile.

“Oh. Right.” You smiled shyly. “I’m more of a ground person. I’m not much for stars.”

“Really? I love the stars. I used to be able to name all the constellations and find them.”

“That’s cool. Did you just study the night sky or something?”

“No. I used to practice my archery at night a lot when I was at boarding school. I spent so much time outside that I started to see the patterns in the stars. And that made me want to know more. I love all that stuff now. Constellations and stuff. I think it’s really cool.” Kate explained as she grabbed her own bowl and sat across from you.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” You asked as you leaned your chin on your hand, watching her poor her cereal.

“Sagittarius. It’s latin for “archer”. But, I swear I’m not like weirdly into archery or anything. I feel like I keep talking about it.” Kate pointed out just in case you had noticed it too.

“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “I like hearing you talk.”

Kate smiled and leaned in a little, accidentally knocking her cereal bowl forward. It rocked backwards before tumbling off the table and landing on the floor.

“Oh God.” Kate said in a grave voice as she stared at the bowl on the floor. There was milk and cereal all over the floor, Kate’s legs, and the table.

“Did it spill?” You asked her.

“Yes. Very much.”

“Here. I’ll help.” You said and got out of your seat. You grabbed some paper towels and put them on the floor as Kate scooped the soggy cereal up with her hands. When you finished wiping down the floor, you wiped the table legs. You then absentmindedly wiped the milk off of Kate’s bare legs, making you both freeze. You stopped and looked up at her with an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry.” You said quickly.

“It’s okay. Thanks for helping.” She smiled shyly.

“It’s okay. I spill things all the time.”

“I’m not usually this clumsy.” She told you as you walked together to the sink.

“For some reason, I have a hard time believing you.” You chuckled as you rinsed your bowl o it.

“Yeah. I was lying. I’m very clumsy.” She admitted, making you laugh again.

“It’s okay. You’re like the girl in the romantic comedies who’s endearing trait is that she bumps into things and falls over a lot.”

“Does that make you the new kid in town who quite literally sweeps her off her feet?” Kate asked, immediately regretting it for being too forward.

“Sorry. That was a bad joke. I’m gonna go.”

“You can stay.” You shrugged, making her stop in tracks.

“If you want, I mean. Maybe you could help me.” You quickly added.

“With what?” Kate wondered.

“I’m trying to think of a name.” You explained as you sat back down at the table.

“A name?” She asked as she sat beside you. You pulled out a notepad and showed her your list of crossed out names.

“Yeah. My superhero name. What’s yours?”

“Kate. Bishop.” She said, making you laugh.

“But that’s your real name.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, Clint calls me Hawkeye. It hasn’t really caught on, though.”

“I like that.” You smiled. “I think it suits you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled shyly in return. You looked at each other for a minute and Kate could’ve sworn you started to lean in. She quickly cleared her throat and tried to focus.

“So what names what you thought of so far?” She asked to get back on track.

“I’ll tell you. But you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“Okay.” Kate grinned and leaned on her hand to stare at you.

“Flower Girl.” You read off your list and looked at her.

“Oh. That’s…cute.” Kate nodded and held back a laugh.

“You hate it.” You whined. “But it’s okay because I hate it too. It’s too wedding-y.”

“I agree. What else you got?”

“Plantman?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“No. Sounds too much like Ant-Man. And, you know, you’re a girl.”

“I know. I thought it might help with the whole anonymity aspect. But I don’t like it.” You said and crossed it off your list. Kate scooted closer to you so that she could read the list over your shoulder.

“Poison Ivy?” She read off in surprise.

“Nah.” You shook your head. “That’s lame. What about Rose Petal?”

“No.” Kate scrunched her nose.

“Rose Thorn?“

“No. That’s doesn’t scream “you”, you know?”

“What about just straight up “thorn”? That could work.”

“It’s cute.” Kate agreed. “But it kinda sounds like a villain name.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” You sighed and looked back at the list.

“Why don’t you call yourself whatever your favorite flower is?” Kate suggested.

“I can grow flowers with my hands. I could never pick a favorite. Could you pick a favorite arrow?”

“Never. They’re all so different and do different things.”

“Exactly.” You told her. “That’s why I could never pick. But you could. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Red dahlias.” Kate answered, making you smile in surprise.

“Really? I thought it would be lavender or hyacinths. Or maybe even irises.”

“Why those?” Kate wondered, blushing at how much thought you had put into it.

“They’re purple.” You shrugged, making her blush deepen.

“How’d you know I like purple?” She asked with a shy smile.

“Your whole room was purple when I was in there. And you’re wearing purple now. I took a wild guess.” You pointed out, making her blush again.

“Good guess. It is. My favorite color, I mean.”

“It’s a good color. And definitely a good color on you.” You said, making Kate choke on her saliva.

“Thanks.” She said once she collected herself. “Um, what was that flower you mentioned before? The one with the funny name.”

“Hyacinth?”

“Yeah. That one. I’m not familiar with it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hyacinth.”

“Oh, they’re beautiful. They’re not all purple though. They can be pink and white and blue too.” You said as waved your hands around and grew a couple hyacinths in your palms. You grew one of every color you listed as Kate watched in awe. You handed the flowers to Kate in a bouquet and noticed her expression.

“What?” You wondered.

“That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” She whispered as she took a whiff of the flowers.

“What was the one you said you liked? Red dahlia?” You asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah.” Kate returned the smile. “That’s the one.”

“Here.” You said as you grew a red dahlia in your palm and handed it to her.

“What else can you do?” Kate asked you with a childlike smile.

“You wanna see something cool?” You smirked, making her instantly nod her head.

A couple minutes later, you were in one of the sparring rooms with Kate dressed in her archery gear.

“Okay. Shoot it.” You commanded her.

“What? I’m not gonna shoot at you.” Kate said and lowered her arrow.

“What did you think we came out here for?” You chuckled. “Shoot me. Right here. Right in the heart.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you in the heart.”

“Why? You think you’ll miss?” You teased her.

“I’m not gonna miss. My aim is flawless.” Kate said, falling for your trap.

“It’s flawless but you can’t even hit my heart?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I can hit your heart.” She insisted.

“Prove it.” You shrugged.

“Fine.” She said and raised her arrow again. She lined up her aim and took a dee breath before letting her arrow fly. Before it coudk hit you, you held up a hand and a tree immediately grew in front of you. The arrow hit the tree, protecting you from harm.

“Woah!” Kate gasped. “How did you do that?”

“Flower power.” You smirked. “Shoot another one.”

Kate was so impressed by you that she took another arrow from her sheath and pulled it back. She aimed for your forehead his time and leg her arrow fly. You held up an arm and a tree once again appeared in front of you, protecting you from the arrow.

“Wow. That’s so cool.” Kate said breathlessly as she lowered her bow.

“Thanks. I’m not really sure how I can use it in battle though.” You admitted.

“Hm..” Kate thought for a second before taking out another arrow. This time, she aimed it at the wall and watched as it ricocheted and headed towards you. You threw your hands up as cactus grew in front of you, stopping the arrow from ever making contact.

“Woah. Kate! What are you doing?” You asked as she lined up another arrow.

“Showing you what you can do.” She smirked and started to run towards you. You held your hands by your hips and grass grew beneath your feet. You used the grass to move away from her, riding around the room like you were on a magic carpet. Kate kept shooting arrows at you and you expertly dodged them. You threw a blast of flowers at one arrow to knock it out of the sky and used a vine to yank another arrow away from your face. You saw her reaching for another arrow and sent a hurricane of jacarandas at her to buy yourself some time to move out of the way. This went on for some time, Kate shooting at you and you using your powers to protect yourself. Kate watched you in awe as you dodged every single arrow she shot at you until she had run out. As she shot her final arrow at you, you threw a blast of red, pink, orange, and white petals at her. The petals rained around the room as you stared at each other. You both got the same idea and laid down on the petals, panting as you stared at one another. You reached over and moved some hair out of Kate’s face, making her smile.

“Your powers are beautiful. They’re peaceful and defensive and powerful. You’re amazing.” Kate gushed as she stared into your eyes.

“Thanks.” You smiled shyly. You stared at each other for a minute before Kate sat up. You sat up as well and picked some petals out of her long, dark hair.

“Come on. Let’s go back in.” She said as she held out her hand. You took her hand and helped each other stand up. As you walked towards the door, Kate tripped and fell it the ground. You laughed and scooped her up, carrying her the rest of the way inside. You set her down in the kitchen and she was a blushing mess.

“Are you hungry?” You asked her as you looked through the cabinets.

“Not really. But I wouldn’t say no to a little some sweet.” She replied, making you laugh.

“Me either. Here. Do you like cherry?” You asked as you handed her a lolly pop you had found.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She smiled shyly and took the lolly pop.

“I’m more of a blue raspberry kinda gal.” You told her as you popped your own lolly pop into your mouth.

“Good to know.” Kate smiled as she bit down on the stick of her lolly pop. You sat down on the couch together and talked about flowers and constellations and everything in between.

“Your tongue is red.” You laughed when you noticed her cherry red tongue poking out of her mouth.

“Well yours is blue.” She teased. You both laughed and when your laughter died down, you were left staring at each other.

“Do you want to make purple?” You asked quietly, making Kate’s stomach erupt in a swarm of butterflies.

“I do.” She gulped. “It’s my favorite color.”

“I’ve noticed.” You smiled before leaning in to kiss her.

“Well look at that. Our little plan worked.” Tony smirked as he watched the scene between you and Kate play out on his security camera.

“I knew it would. They just needed a little push.” Clint said before shoveling some popcorn into his mouth while he watched the screen.

“Is it weird we’re watching teenage girls makeout when they have no idea they’re being filmed?” Wanda asked as she stole some popcorn. Everyone stopped eating their popcorn and froze.

“It’s weird.” Tony agreed. “Turn it off.”

#kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop fluff #Kate bishop x avenger!reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop

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blatantlackofdecorum · 2 years

Text

Mischa Bachinski Headcanons

Cool Wicked Awesome!

- you know what. he’s a cat person. this is a bold claim. look, he’s a mess, I know, but listen, this cat in his neighborhood visits him through the dome window in the basement. he spent weeks gaining her trust, and eventually took her in. he quickly named her garfield, regardless of her color.

“garfield! It’s your borthday!”

as a kitten she was incredibly skinny, but mischa trades ricky cat food in exchange for driving lessons. she’s now spoiled as all hell and chubby, but quite literally anytime he’s in his room, him and garf are together. he can appreciate that she needs her space sometimes. cats are intricate, you need patience to connect with them, same as him.

- I like the driver mischa headcanon. i know it’s probably unrealistic as all hell, but between tattoos and selling weed, he probably saved up a little. he gets a shit-box of a first car, a van, in pretty bad condition, but she’s still his. he fixes her up the best he can. her bumper might have quite a few dents but, nothing a little duct tape can’t fix right? + 1 horrible driver, but a way to carpool the choir.

- he taught himself how to drive through trial and error, and a lot of youtube videos. he doesn’t have his license but he most certainly drives regardless. he turns into everyone’s way to school, and honestly he stops minding pretty early on.

- awful nightmares, he doesn’t get a lot of sleep. when he does? occasionally it’s in class, or in the back of his van. he occasionally steals blankets and pillows from the blackwood’s house, but honestly, they know (neither constance or her parents ever really stop him)

- naturally just so cold. his hands always feel like he just spent the night in a walk in freezer. occasionally he just needs to have a comforter wrapped around him. that being said, the slightest bit of holding hands with anyone will warm him up quickly.

- he’s so big on physical contact. whether it be platonic or romantic. over affectionate. if someone doesn’t like physical contact? assume that portion of his personality is saved for his cat when he gets home.

- he has asthma. it’s gotten a lot worse than it was when he was younger, mostly in account of smoking, (ocean will reluctantly share her inhaler, he’s struggled during choir before)

- adhd + autism mischa because I said so.

- his love languages range from words of affirmation, physical touch, and acts of service. something he didn’t have with talia was physical touch, but truthfully, it started to not matter the more and more they talked.

- best smoke sesh buddy. i will elaborate the hell out of this if asked.

#rtc #mischa bachinski #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone mischa #mischa rtc #noel gruber rtc #noel rtc #noel gruber #ocean o'connell rosenberg #ocean oconnell rosenberg rtc #ocean rtc #constance blackwood #constance rtc #constance blackwood rtc #ricky potts rtc #rtc ricky #ricky rtc

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blankdblank · 1 year

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Battle Ravens

@devilishminx328, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @theincaprincess, @gothams-gotchya, @i-will-bite-you

added the couple people who asked to be tagged, and as always if you want to be added or removed from a tag list let me know. :) Now here’s some grumpy pining Dwarf King for you.

…

“Oh for Mahal’s sake how did I choose the most stubborn rock on this entire damn continent.” The muttered words through grit teeth had Balin, who was pretending to not be awakened by the noise of rock being scraped once again as you sat up on watch, in a fight to not laugh.

For three weeks now since Thorin mid skirmish with some goblins had lost a hidden pouch with beads apparently very special to him on the end of a braid severed by a gnarled and blackened blade you stole time on this task. Hours he and his kin spent searching for it as he chose to make camp there for that task and to rest you and his cousin Dwalin who had taken injuries to your left side at the sudden attack that knocked you both off your ponies that also needed time to be calmed.

But the nephews of said mournfully grumpy King who couldn’t seem to look your way since, unless to issue an order of watch times or ensure you had your helping of food each meal to go with the dry spots if any that could be found in this rainy leg of the Journey, had shared a secret with you. Or at least a fact he was not boastful of.

Not three days later a small stumble had led to five of the Company rolling down a rocky hill sending the King to help secure them after. A task that had broken another relic from his old home, a blade forged by his grandmother now without a hilt. A lost relic you couldn’t recall the design of so you were free styling and intended to fashion a new hilt to the blade he had tossed into a heap of rocks out of frustration at the fact of yet another loss.

“Ha!” You were heard saying by the now also awakened Bofur, who buried his face in his arms to not be heard chuckling at the back end of the battle when the Valar Mahal apparently had heard your battle himself and found it honorably intended and let the rock give way to your effort. Now you just had to secure the two decorative flower pins you had managed to make while on a helpfully lengthy market stop a few weeks back in the Smith stall after some very effective begging and puppy dog eyes to go with a silver coin that most likely would have done the trick anyways sans the amusement for the Smith.

“My watch,” Bifur said with a grin as he saw you tie up the spare blanket you had bought at that stall to wrap around the hidden blade he had a guess what you might be up to with the old thing. “You know your bearings, even in the dark?” Another few silver coins had gained another leg of this plan and with a nod and swap of funds he saw you ease off the rocky ledge you had been sitting on to creep out of camp to achieve your main goal.

Two taps on the nose when pokes to the armored chest plate and arm braces didn’t do the trick later and the grumpy King opened his eyes to land upon you. Behind you however were the smiling Company grouped up making him ask, “No one is missing I am assuming it is a stranger then who has died.”

“It’s your birthday grumpykins. Come on, got a special breakfast for you.”

As he sat up he sighed and groaned out at the move of a bruised arm and side still left from the rescue on that rock slide, “Oh yes, boiled oats and a slice of dried salted ham, mighty meal to be woken early for. Now, who is dead?”

“Ugh,” you said and turned to show off a wooden crate Fili and Kili had uncovered for you with wide grins of their own. “We got eggs, sausage and I managed to haggle some flour and other fixings to make pancakes, not very much so very small pancakes so everyone gets some. And bacon, again, not much bacon, so just a cube each, but bacon.”

“How did you afford this?” He asked at a loss for how else to take such a bold gesture for him out of the bunch.

“Traded one of my ruby mirrors,” you said and he let out a puff of air in shock as you had shared those were very special to you as a first big price item you’d bought after your first job. “I have two left, biggest one also landed some sugar cubes for the ponies, so they get to party too. Now, gifts!”

You stood and his eyes followed you in Bombur’s move to ready the food out of eagerness with Oin right at his side to not waste any of it. “Our kin do not celebrate birthdays.”

“Well you’re celebrating this one.” You said and he had to let out a chuckle. Resituating his legs to accept the first of the hand carved tokens from each of his proud kin who wished to help make this day special. Not just for the King but for the one who wanted him to have a great day even if there was a deluge outside the spacious onion shaped tent you had brought with you complete with stove, chimney and outer tarp large enough for the ponies to stay dry as well.

You were at the end of the line and he could only grin in accepting the rolled blanket he had clearly seen you not use since bartering quite admirably down the outrageous price to something more tolerable. He had loaned his out several nights since leaving the Shire, but he had to wonder as to why you waited for now to gift it to him if he was the intended user. “A blanket, very useful.”

“To hide the real gift, yes.” You said and his brows opened as you unrolled it to make his jaw drop at seeing the blade he had angrily thrown then tried to return and find now with a new hilt in a material he couldn’t quite place. “Now that is the most stubborn rock on the continent, should not ever so much as dare to break.” Weakly in disbelief he let out a chuckle and took hold of the rocky grip that was a bit big in his palm. “Sized it to Balin’s hand, might be a bit big, but the acorn pommel came out just right to counterbalance the look. Couldn’t remember how it looked before, so just went square with some little angry battle ravens.”

He chuckled again whispering as he turned it over to see the lines of birds carved into each side around the touching flower pins he knew must have taken care and patience to wedge through to such perfection even if it wasn’t exactly fit to his palm. But some shaving of the corners and it would do nicely to not harm the birds. “Battle ravens.”

“See that ones got an axe.” You said with a grin and a point to one in particular.

“Thank you, I was quite heartbroken to see it was gone when I returned for it. I do not recognize this rock though, where did you find it?”

“It was in the wagon the goblins had. Everyone was going to leave the rocks behind, but they stole them so have to be useful for something. Might make a dagger or two for myself if I am up for a good month of nightly battle again.

“A month?” He asked in disbelief.

“Hardest rock ever, took three weeks to drill the hole to fit to the end of your blade.”

“Hmm.” He said in a pondering hum and then had to chuckle as a lit candle was produced over breakfast for him to make a wish.

All he could wish for was a chance to be yours though. Dwarves held sacred beads they carve upon adulthood for their Ones, beads he lost in that Goblin attack. Thoughtful as this was and a great burst of wind to his sails to cross this stormy pass still not even to the first of Elven lands that lay between him and his homeland it was not a blatant offer of courtship beyond question. A kindness in a rough patch, he kept repeating to himself.

All the same it was the best breakfast he could ask for, though nine miles outside of the rough rainy stretch of land when they reached the next town a removal of your wet hat and hood had smiles and waves mingled with calls of familiarity and excitement you had brought friends with you. Nine miles both ways through rough weather and back again before sunrise to gladly and tirelessly wish him entrance to a new year only muddled things more for what the intentions might be.

...

“Rivendell, let’s go to Rivendell,” you muttered helping to hoist the two wheeled wagon your pony had been pulling you commandeered from the long dead goblins holding not just your rocks but also the bags of the others. The ponies had been led off by Gandalf’s horse supposedly in the night, and now terribly lost on the way to the Misty Mountain hidden Elven refuge every Durin held immense displeasure at being inside the orc infested halls of Moria.

“I had no intention of drawing us here, Young Miss.” the Wizard said lowly as his staff lit the path ahead faintly to hopefully not warn any dark foe of your place here on the treacherous crossing ahead of the kingdom that will take weeks to get to the other side of it.

“Oh you don’t have a lot of intentions about a lot of things.” You muttered again driving your shoulder a bit more into the wagon as Bifur’s foot slipped and it neared sliding backwards at you.

“And just what might that mean?”

Fili chimed up in the start of a few hijinks this week alone that Bilbo carried on sharply only driving the Wizard to huff and furrow his brows in shared irritation of the bad luck of this week. Not two halls later you froze inside a long pillared stretch at the sudden drop of a helmet at your side that turned everyone around as you muttered, “Soon as I look up it’s gonna pounce, maybe if we ignore it, pretend it’s a turtle dropped by a bird.” Internal means to be amused at the notion died in the sudden sea of screeches that had the Company in full sprint.

Durin’s Bane however cut off that sprint and over a helmet your foot moved only to drop into a hole that had you collapse and cause the wagon to tilt and spill across your back and onto the ground around you to let bags and stolen rocks alike spill out. Bloodying your nose and cheek really well in the process on a broken shield left in the dust stained again with the product of the blow.

Another roar and bodies turning had hands clench around weapons in hand as only Bilbo, who was helping you to pull the wagon fumbled a grip to get you up in Fili and Kili’s leap over it to get around and hasten the task to keep fleeing. Just two steps and as belongings were thrown back in the hoisted up wagon the Balrog was within distance for his flaming whip to be useful. Reflex alone was the excuse when the hefty rock in your palms was shouldered and hurled up at the beast’s head. Not to hit it but well earning a gaps to be chomped whole between his jaws before damage could be done.

“He ate my rock!” You squeaked as Kili tossed the final rock back into the wagon to Bilbo’s whole body slam into your side to get you moving again so the brothers could pull the wagon to at least get to the armed rest of the Company and Wizard amongst them who had yet to do much but anger the beast to follow you here.

Low and pained a grunt came from the Balrog causing Gandalf to pause in his attack before he slammed his staff to form a bubble of light to protect the Company as the Balrog exploded into a sea of living flames that raced throughout the kingdom. Lost to a roar of the ocean of flames was your scream in being folded into a tight hug by the brothers that dropped the wagon to try and at least shield you and Bilbo from the flames if possible by their natural Dwarfly ways that had them hardy to many forms of heat, including the odd accidental explosion under the right conditions, like several layers to burn off, as they both had.

Quiet and cold soon washed over the cowering huddled Company all around Gandalf who held the barrier of light still. Though you were the first upon release to speak up and ask even if to yourself, “They explode?! The rocks explode?!”

Thorin however just outside the barrier rose up, releasing Ori from the huddle he formed with Dwalin to save the youngest of the Company at the sight of the brilliant shimmer on the hilt of his reforged blade he dropped to do so. “Gandalf, let loose the bubble.”

“Pardon?” The Wizard asked and moved with Thorin to watch and allow the King to lift his blade by the sharp end so he could see the remnants of the war ravens and acorn pommel exposing pure Mithril underneath the crude dark layer.

“Mithril.” He whispered now recalling tales of crude Mithril chunks his elders had shared of their commonplace appearance used to transport it long distances from this long lost kingdom to other Dwarf lands. Then said louder and to you, “The rocks are pure Mithril.”

“Does Mithril explode?” You asked back shrilly still in shock at the massive blast.

“Only the shell around it. Extreme caution is taken to chisel it free, far from heat of forges or it can cause blasts enough to empty an entire kingdom.”

“Okay, so if we find another of those we just hurl another rock at it. Add that to the battle plan booklet Ori.” You said and he nodded and turned a little bit to find his bag still strapped to his side to bring out his log of the Journey do far.

“For now Lass, let’s fix this gash of yours,” Oin spoke up hurrying to your side with his healing kit he found with haste at the tricking blood still flowing from it.

Now perfectly shaped to his grip Thorin could only grin to himself at the new weight to his gift now worth far more than he’d earned in the decades since being ousted by that dastardly dragon. On top of that you were the one to decide to bring the rocks as well, now a hefty haul atop any goods procured from this venture if this were to succeed.

Rivendell eventually was found and in the month of recuperating two taps to your shoulder had woken you on your birthday, out of the post Balrog shimmering Mithril clump a blade was made just for you by means of the Elven forge, wrapped in a new blanket as well. And through the pain of your bruised and swollen face you smiled in saying, “Battle Ravens,” with the amused King who adored that you were so pleased with his craftsmanship. “This one has a little bow and helmet.”

And he could only beam brighter as now with matching hilts to your unique blades the surplus of Mithril was forged with gems he kept on his person for cases of emergencies in bartering for matching courtship beads. Braided into both of your hair to be displayed both inside and out of this kingdom when you were mended and able to travel again without his concern for any lingering side effects or risk of infection of the facial wound to heal scar free by Lord Elrond’s assurance after he had helped to tend to it upon arrival.

...

“We have the perfect battle plan,” you said lifting up one of the rocks after jolting yourself out of Tauriel’s grip to be between the glaring Kings.

“A rock?” Tauriel asked and Thranduil straightened up recognizing it at once due to his age and kin’s former trade agreement for Mithril from Durin’s kin when Moria was still thriving.

“I am listening.” He said stunning the 700 year old Elleth her adopted older brother Legolas would explain fuller to her later at his own vague remembrance of what it might be.

One break into the floating city by means of a borrowed barge left on the shore for a brief moment and a theft of a giant horn the Elves lacked possession of to be loud enough later and Smaug was on the chase off to the East over growth free hills. Down into the valley below by means of a giant slingshot and his jaws clamped around the rock launched at him off a crude trebuchet decimated in the body to follow.

Silence broke for the town post frenzy of the beast and their own populace could only hear the faint squeak of your loud shout to the Dwarves covering you fully behind a Mithril shelter of shields banded together for cover, “No less terrifying the second time around!” Gaining loud laughter from not just them but the Elves who dared to come and help transport the supplies for the battle plan.

Celebration died as you asked, “Laketown’s closer to Erebor isn’t it?” A collective curse sounded and you all started the sprint off towards the mountain.

Even natural born sprinters the Dwarves soon lost sight of you and the Elves that came close to catching your speedy self. Over the hills and open plane they only could walk right up to the lost peak to find a collection of groaning Men on the frigid ground in varied manners of injury a short distance from the closed front door meaning only one hopeful thing, you had beaten the Men here and sealed them.

“Lass?” Dwalin asked using his axe to tap on the smaller hidden door inside the massive larger set for travelers on foot without wagon, steed, cattle or carriage.

The sliding small door opened to show you with another bloody nose freeing relieved exhales from the tired Company to hear you say, “You’re gonna have to push the door, think I dislocated my shoulder getting the bigger ones shut.”

“There is a crank system on the far wall, Lass,” Gloin said.

“One, never lived here, two, do you know how dark it is in here even with our glowing buddies here?” You said making them chuckle and have them grip the door to get it open with the help of the Elves inside. Except for one who was trying to stem a rather deep gash on the non-dislocated shoulder you spoke of on your stained self they could only chuckle at the mention of not knowing if the various blood stains on you were all yours or not.

Shouts from the Men outside when the gates were sealed again were only answered by their being the ones to bloody the future Queen of Erebor and to flee before justice would be sought for the injury. Even if you were the one to slam them into the ground with very little assistance from the Elves who simply reached you in time to help with the doors. Gloin with hold of the shimmering chunk of Mithril let it down to help his cousins get to lighting the lanterns on the walls.

“Now that’s just terribly managed and inefficient.” Was what you said to break the awe striking group stare at the hoard after the break of time to feed the Company and let you be cleaned and patched up by the convoy of Elves with Thranduil and his son at the helm. They looked to you as you looked up at Gandalf, “What’s the extent of your magic?”

“Pardon me?”

“Could you magic up a few thousand buckets, for example?”

“Yes, I can manifest buckets.”

“Good!” You said and looked at Thorin, “Offered plan b, you said the forge needs to be warmed up, we need to search this monster sea of gold and we can get two Balrogs with one exploding rock.” Instantly he was smiling as you explained what he imagined you might be grasping at, “Gandalf Magic’s us up a sea of buckets and lights the forges with his staff and you all configure a pulley system to the forge. Melt the gold into whatever and you can always melt it back down to coin again later, and we find the arkenstone when the gold is gone and it’ll be so much more efficient.”

Practically vibrating with excitement the Dwarves were up for a new building project in their old home and leapt at the chance to Thorin’s, “Brilliant plan. Gandalf, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“And what of my people! You steal from us then bar is from entrance to this mountain!” The Master of Laketown shouted up at Thorin on the overlook with the Dwarves.

One of the other older Men shouted, “And you stole my Grandfather’s horn!”

Out of the smaller door you hurried to that man with horn in hand he grabbed with one hand then looked at the second hand your speedy self collected to leave a handful of coins in his palm, “And we thank you for your donation to the cause. Your ancestor would be proud of your confidence in us!” The second sentence you said mid race to get back into the door that was slammed and locked again causing the befuddled men around the horse mounted Master and the man now smiling at the payment calming at least his frustration.

“What of the rest of us?! Our people starve while you live in splendorous gold filled halls?!”

He continued to argue as Bard strolled to the smaller door and knocked on it causing you to open the slot a crack he hunched to see through, “What if my barge you tied me up to borrow?” Out of the slot a fat golden raven with a sword tucked underneath its wing all of five pounds had him look at the odd offering. “What is that?”

“Battle raven. We‘ve had some trouble finding the arkenstone in the hoard, had to melt the gold, you can trade this for coin later when we melt it back after the stone is found.” Lowly he chuckled and accepted the bird enabling your arm to draw back in so you could snap the slot shut again and he could turn to head back to the others. He did pause as you slid it open another crack to add, “Sorry about tying you up as well. Barge looked empty. Make a very convincing mast.”

“Apology accepted,” he replied mainly to himself pocketing the statuette in his best pocket so he would be sure not to lose it.

#Thorin x Reader #Thorin #The Company #Durins #Gandalf #The Hobbit #lotr #Pining King #Grumpy King #Happy Birthday #Mithril

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tinydappledleaf · 6 months

Text

Title: Stay

Chapter: 3/6

Pairing: Ezra x f!Reader, Ezra x you (Reader is addressed by 'you' or nickname)

Rating: 18+, smut in chapter 6

Content: Situationship to romance, soft Ezra, intimacy, loss of limb (non-explicit), canon compliant

Summary: When you've almost given up waiting for him, a certain prospector returns to the Pug to call in a favor...

Ao3: complete fic

《 chaper 2 chapter 4 》

Chapter III

Ezra lounges on the couch when Cee emerges from her hideout late that evening. From your spot at your provisory workbench, you eye her curiously - or rather what's in her hands. A small package, neatly wrapped in a glimmering foil you recognize as a cut up emergency thermal blanket. Ezra has noticed, too, and assumes a more attentive sitting position as she approaches him.

Once Cee has reduced the distance to a mere few steps, she offers him the silver glinting object. Its a present, you realize. So does Ezra and looks somewhat befuddled and, to your astonishment, like he's at a brief loss of words.

"For you," nudges Cee, despite the already obvious gesture. "Take it before I change my mind."

That prompts him to move and she hands it to him. You try not to observe too evidently, considering whatever transpires is most likely meant to include just them. But, admittedly, you're much too curious to fully turn away now. You feel slightly out of place, though, as you continue to bring off your remaining orders.

"To what, say, do I owe the pleasure of gifts?"

"A get-well gift..." explains Cee, her features carefully schooled into a neutral expression. There's tells of uneasiness, however, in the rigidness of her stance and the clasp of her fingers around each other once her hands are free.

"My mom used to give me some when I was little. Like... to distract you when you're not feeling well. I know it's late, but I didn't manage to get it done any quicker."

Her little admission warms your heart. She's a good girl, Cee, and Ezra is just as aware of it. You know him well enough to imagine his throat bobbing with implicit emotion, the gentleness that appears within him as he unwraps her present.

"Too kind, little bird," he murmurs into the rustle of foil, "Thank you.

It takes him a moment, using just one hand and his knees to unstick the tape, but Cee waits in quiet patience, if a little fidgety.

When silence settles, you can't bear it any longer, drop all the pretense and turn to chance a look at what rests on Ezra's lap.

Its a notebook. Not the one you've seen Cee with multiple times. This one's cover is caramel colored and intricately decorated in patterns and tiny pictures. Even though you're not able to see detail from where you sit, its obvious all of it is drawn by hand. The lines neatly twine around bold ballpoint written letters spelling out 'The Streamer Girl'.

Ezra's fingers trace the patterns in awe, but there's something about his expression that calls your attention. A crease draws shadow to his brow as he opens the booklet and finds her writing inside.

"You made this?"

"I did. I finished writing the draft when you were out cold after we got here. You said you must read it someday so... I thought I might get the entire thing finished sooner, but some parts didn't read like I wanted them to when I copied-"

"How?"

The clipped word startles her and wipes the bubbling excitement right off her face. Ezra's reaction is certainly not what she expected.

"As I said, I copied it. My first draft has so much scratched out and-"

"No, where did you get this?"

He snaps the booklet shut and raises it for her to see. Its obvious then, what troubles his soul, and you break a little for him. Cee, though, does not catch on as quickly and you watch confusion spread across her face as she regards his stern expression.

"I traded it. For some of the leftover rations from the merc pod. Figured we wouldn't need those anytime soon."

Her voice is almost defensive now.

"From some stranger at the port?"

"In a pub there, actually. How is that relevant?"

Ezra's face contorts at her words. A brief flicker of blanched consternation is overruled by the severity of a frown.

"Cause you could've gotten yourself hurt. Or worse. Girl, this is the Pug. You can't just amble 'round the port, let alone those dives, an' trade goods to the odd stranger. It ain't safe!"

She's laughing now, in his face, and its agonizing to watch, but this isn't your place to poke your nose in.

"Yeah? And you are?" Cee snaps throwing her hand out in Ezra's direction, then yours, "Or her? All I have is strangers. And who's at fault for that?"

It's not a question. It's a mean punch to the gut and it's delivered with such searing venom, that only teenagers are able to summon from somewhere deep within. Then she turns on her heel, marches back into the room she's come from and slams the door shut.

Ezra remains unmoving, only winces briefly at the sudden noise. Devastation rests in his wide eyes as his one hand firmly clasps the reason of their dispute.

"She's right," he mutters and it pains you to see him so distraught and strangely forlorn. It's so blatantly obvious how much he's come to care for his newfound protégé. He's trying to do right by her, despite his lacking experience. Ezra is not a parent, never desired to be, though you reason its more the doubt towards his own qualities and ways of life than actual displeasure at the thought of it.

He's a little brother, nestling of his family, not accustomed to any 'parental obligation' for the young.

He made a reliable captain, for the time he was granted, caring for both, the success and well-being of his crew. But that about totalizes his wisdom in regards of responsibility.

You still believe he's more than capable of it. You're familiar with his tentative, caring side, his subsisting urge to protect what's dear to him, no matter at what cost.

"You're gonna fix it, Ez."

Your attempt of consolation sounds hollow, even to your own ears, after their quick but harsh conflict. Ezra heaves a sigh at your well-meant pep talk and flops back onto his good side, gift still in hand.

"Fixin' things is not somethin' I do own great aptitude for, Patches. That's your métier. Besides, I fear some mess-ups ain't fixable..."

"Give her time to cool down," you suggest as you turn back to wrap up your order for delivery, "Then go talk to her. She's a smart kid, she’s gonna be okay."

And so are you, you muse, as he absentmindedly hums his doubtful agreement. The sound of a page turning recovers the soft smile on your face. Already immersed in her writing, so it seems.

You struggle to find sleep that night. It happens. Mostly on odd times for no particular reason. This night, however, it’s the lingering tension of conflict that hangs heavy in the room. It has you turning in bed to find a position that is somewhat comfortable. None is.

Right now, you’re on your back again, eyes closed in a futile attempt to drift off. Thoughts meander though your head, draw lazy repeating circles, as you listen to the sounds of another night within the busy asteroid base that is Puggart Bench. There’s shouting in the distance and a warm breeze carries the rumble of starting engines through your open window. You guess freighter by its volume and duration and try to imagine what kind of payload might lift off into the void. The Pug’s port is a hub for merchants and smugglers alike. Resources, jewelry, tech-ware… beetles? It could be virtually anything.

You give up as the engine roar dies down and yields the softer noises around. The perpetual whir of the ceiling fan. A rustle of cloth.

Ezra.

You turn on your cot, careful to keep quiet, and make out his motionless silhouette in the darkness. He’s fast asleep by the steady sound of his breathing, overwhelmed by the exhaustion of his recovery. In, out, deep and slow goes his quiet snore. You count along and fall into his calm rhythm. Before you know it, sleep has claimed your consciousness as well.

It doesn’t last long.

You’re awoken by ruckus.

There’s thrashing and groaning and it takes you a hot tick to realize, that its in fact not another brawl in the alley below, but the man right across the room.

Abruptly wide awake and bolt upright in bed you scramble over to the couch to find him trapped in what has to be an awful nightmare. Brow furrowed and beaded with sweat, he tosses his head on the pillow and muscles twitch under the strain of his jerking body.

You try to call out his name and gain nothing but jumbles of disjointed words and syllables. The sudden grimace of pain etched into his features is the final nail. Throwing caution to the wind you grab his face with both hands, fingers cold against his flushed skin. You expect him to lash out, toss you right off him. Whatever ingrained instinct kicks in first.

Instead, you suddenly stare down into his open eyes, wide with anguish and sheer terror. Time ticks by like honey until all tension drains from his body.

You unfreeze alongside him, give in to gravity’s pull and sink onto his still heaving chest. You stay like that for a speechless moment, listen to the thunder that is his heart and to the rush of his labored breath. His shirt is damp and warm against your cheek as you curl your fingers into its loose fabric. Nightmares are no rare occurrence for anyone out here. You’ve had your fair share of them as well and it’s by far not the first he’s lived through in your presence. But you’ve never seen him this stricken after. A shudder runs through your body.

A breathed apology wafts through the night and you shake your head ‘no’ against his body. His hand comes to rest on the small of your back regardless, thumb drawing soothing strokes across the curve of your spine, and you feel miserable for savoring his gentle touch. You’re not the one in dire need of consolation. But you’ve missed this so much it aches. This tenderness he offers only in the dead of night.

Ezra’s an affectionate lover, if he wants to be. You’ve had it both, his rough and reckless love, pent up and burning after cycles out in the Frontier, and all of his gentle passion. But never are there strings attached. He crashes in like a gale, wild and without warning, tears you apart and puts you back together piece by tiny piece. Then he vanishes and leaves you in the wake of his storm with nothing but the ghost of a smile and the promise for more.

It didn't faze you seasons ago. Tonight, the mere thought of him disappearing again is nearly unbearable. But that doesn’t change a thing.

You breathe him in once more, then slowly right yourself to find him watching.

“Didn’t mean to rouse you,” he murmurs, and you brush it off again. Briefly your gaze flickers to the bedroom door, but nothing moves within its range. At least the girl appears to have slept through the commotion. You’re glad. It spares her some more worry.

As you turn back to face Ezra, you’re unsure what to do. You know better than to ask for his dream. If he wants to share, then he does, and you listen. This time, however, he doesn't. You respect his decision and move to pull away and reclaim your cot, but his hand comes to rest on your thigh and effectively prevents you from rising to your feet.

"Stay."

One simple word is enough, of the man that owns so many, to break your resolve and you melt back against him, even though you might regret it later.

His arm curls securely around your waist and tucks you into his warmth. The position is far from comfortable, half sitting besides, half laying atop his body, but right now you couldn't care less. For a few precious ticks, he's yours again. You won't waste the tiniest bit of it.

"I imagined this..." he sighs into the silence that settles.

"’s what kept me sane all by my lonesome through the nights. Longed to have you there with me an' despised myself for the very thought of it."

His wistful admission only serves to make you huddle closer to him. He's safe now, with you. You lay like that and listen to the steady thump of his heart, now calm and slow, until you hear him mumble again. It’s some sort of poetry, you recognize, by the rhythm of each carefully crafted verse. It’s a new poem, unfamiliar to your ears but as beautiful as any else. You’re far too tired for interpretation, comprehension of context even, and by the third stanza, the low rumble of his voice has lulled you into sound slumber. Ezra holds you close to himself, keeps you from slipping away in your sleep, and, quietly, thanks the cosmos for hearing his most desperate plea.

You wake to the insistent tingle of squished limbs and the first rays of morning light. Its still early and the room is quiet except for the subtle snore above your head.

Mourning his warmth the moment you carefully extract yourself from Ezra’s embrace, you stretch your aching limbs and suppress a yawn. Your gaze falls upon the readily packed orders waiting for delivery on your workbench and you sigh, not yet ready to abandon the combined comfort of couch and Ezra. But the sooner you get over with it, the quicker you can focus your attention on the replacement for his arm. You already have a design in mind that your fingers are itching to sketch.

So, with great reluctance, you get up, shower, dress and collect the package. As you pass the couch on your way out, you pause and lean in to press the briefest of kisses to his temple. His brow creases adorably at the contact, just a brief twitch. Then you’re on your way.

Smooth delivery and adequate payment have you in good spirits on your way home. You're looking forward to a hopefully quiet afternoon and taking time to properly measure Ezra's remaining arm and stump to plan the fitting replacement for his missing limb.

When you get there, however, the mood is still sour.

Ezra's back is turned as you enter. Wordlessly he's facing the back of your couch. There's still no trace of Cee and you wonder if either of them has made the tiniest step towards reconciliation. It doesn’t appear like it.

As you undo the top of your overall, to knot both sleeves around your mid, Ezra skips over any greeting and launches straight into an unexpected question.

“Did she divulge you the unfortunate circumstances of our meeting?”

You halt, mid-knot, confused as to why he deems now the time right to let you in on their secret. You respond all the same.

“Not yet.”

"There was an altercation with her father. Didn't know of her presence then. Thought the man was by himself, fixin' to make a fortune. A returner, hoping for some scraps from the rush. He threatened me, attempted to seize my entire haul."

It’s a crude and compact re-narration of the actual events, you sense as much. Still, you predict the outcome correctly.

"I shot him."

Ezra's admission is clipped, unapologetic. A factual statement sans the usual flourish.

The oppressing mid-day heat hangs heavy around you as you try to wrap your head around the information. Ezra has killed Cee's father. You get the why. You get the how. You don’t challenge either. You're attuned to the savage rules that reign the Green or any space within the outer Frontiers. What you do not get is the reason for his sudden urge to share what has been withheld until now. Is it remorse?

The question is out before you're able to think better of it.

"Do you regret it?"

"No. I do not. From what I've glimpsed, she's better off without him. But who am I to judge? She's better off without me, either."

"And you sulking in your own misery changes anything about it?"

He flips around at your brazen pick of words, fury etched into his features. It doesn't intimidate you. It’s not directed at you, but at the situation he finds himself in. It ebbs away as quickly as it sprouted as his rash movement retaliates. His muscles twitch, a brief grimace of pain breaks his glare. Two deep breaths later he flops down onto his back. You allow him a few seconds to recover before you start the conversation again.

"She knows you mean her no harm. Give her some time to think it all through and, as I said, talk to her. That’s what you excel in, remember? Where is she, anyway?"

The door to her room stands open but Cee is nowhere to be seen.

He hums to your statement. An uneasy feeling creeps up your spine as you turn back to Ezra to spot concern carve deep lines into the skin of his face.

“I don’t know. She walked out on me this morning - when I tried to approach her.”

Cee is late that evening. The light recedes and there's still no sign of life from her. You're slowly beginning to worry, but Ezra's been beside himself for the latter half of the afternoon. He's pacing by the window, stern gaze fixed upon the alley below.

"Sit down," you ask him again, to no avail. You're fairly sure if you weren't present to keep an eye on him, he'd be out there already, searching, despite his battered health.

Maybe you should go look for her, make sure she's alright. You think her too smart to run off with nothing but the clothes on her back. But Ezra’s worry is infective and sitting still to wait it out suddenly no longer seems appropriate.

A sigh of immense relief breaks your considerations, however, and you swiftly join Ezra at the window to find the missing girl trotting down the street, towards your home. Not a scratch on her person, to your comfort.

Cee finds both of you still by the window when she enters, her face grim. But the moment she spots Ezra's rattled expression, her own changes to something mildly apologetic.

"Good night," she merely mumbles and retreats into her room.

Ezra watches the door click shut, then deflates completely, sorrow plain and exhaustion heavy on his shoulders. You feel for him, sense the helplessness that swamps him, confronted with such alien responsibility.

"Come 'ere," you say, and he complies, not questioning, as you pull him into a careful hug. He's limp at first, waits and breathes you in. Then one arm comes up and wraps around your mid with gentle strength. You hold him tight as his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck, soft puffs of warm breath feathering across your skin. You quietly wish for time to freeze just for a while.

As morning comes around, Cee emerges from her hideout to get breakfast. She vanishes as quick and silent as she appeared, but the bedroom door is left cracked open. An invitation to talk that Ezra won't let slide.

You don't mean to eavesdrop, but as they converse, fragments of it carry across the room to your workspace. It doesn't all make sense, since the entirety of their story is still veiled by shadows to you, but their argument steadily resolves as they speak.

Cee tells Ezra how his reaction had reminded her of her late father, though she knew he meant well.

She then tells about asking her father, nearly begging him, to just leave the damn moon. And how she had been brushed off. How she had always been brushed off. If he only had heard her for once, if he’d taken her seriously, had respected her opinions and wishes just this one time - But he had never seen more in her than a clueless kid he would patronize. A precious belonging. A burden. And in the end it had gotten him killed.

Ezra lets her shout, rage and cry until all her pent-up frustration is drained. He listens, patiently, to all of it - and you smile.

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