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endlessthxxghts · 3 months

Text

Breakfast

Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader

Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.

A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him.

So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.

“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out.

“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream.

With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away.

“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear.

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form.

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning.

Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”

You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?”

“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks.

“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure.

Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”

Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky.

Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it.

“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open.

He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center.

“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears.

He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning.

“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high.

Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”

“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak.

“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch.

Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.

“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him.

“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud.

Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage.

Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly.

Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat.

“Darlin’,” he rasps.

“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words.

“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you.

Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb.

At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close.

“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact.

“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue.

He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail.

Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”

“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline.

His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request.

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is.

Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him.

“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”

“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”

“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”

“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.”

“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours.

“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress.

“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop.

You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath.

He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?”

You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you.

“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe.

Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question.

“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?”

You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good.

“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.”

“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach.

End note -

I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼

Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics

@pedrostories

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pokechbi · 10 months

Note

Hi, I hope you’re doing well. Can you do a cockwarming with Ghost please. Maybe he’s doing paper work or something and reader just can’t stay away

Hi Anon! Thank you sooo much for the request! So sorry it took forever, these past couple of weeks have been insane! I hope you enjoy 💗💗

🎀Cockwarming Simon🎀

- Simon Ghost Riley x Fem Reader - 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI! - WC: 1k

When Simon worked, he worked. Absolutely nothing could pull his nose out from those damn papers sprawled about his desk. When he caved himself in his office, absolutely nothing could distract him. If you weren’t bleeding or on fire, he’d continue scribbling away and pushing through his paperwork as if you didn’t exist. You never felt hurt though, because you knew his job as a lieutenant was demanding. You’d seen it first hand as his private. But that never stopped you from trying your absolute hardest to distract him.

You were particularly bored and frustrated on this day. You’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, made dinner and tried busying yourself with watching TV. But nothing could take your mind off of the beast of a man upstairs who could satiate your thirst. It drove you insane. He was just up there, hiding away and hoarding that third leg of his that you couldn’t seem to get enough of. You lie on the couch, picking at your cuticles and biting the skin on your lips annoyedly. You grunt, sitting up. You didn’t know how you would do it, but you’d find a way to pull his focus from that damn work of his. He could spare some time for you, right? You knew it would be no easy feat. But you were determined. Hell bent on getting him to fuck you right there on his desk.

You tip toe up the stairs, the pads of your feet sticking to the hardwood floor. You stifle a giggle as you creep past his office quietly. You enter your room, an idea lighting in your head. Why have I never thought of this? You think to yourself. You start with your pants and underwear, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them. You then take the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head and throwing it to the ground. The cold air on your breasts causes your nipples to perk up. Now completely naked, you make your way downstairs, quietly making a cup of coffee for Simon. You giggle and chuckle to yourself as you pour the hot water into the instant coffee, stirring it. You make your way up the stairs with the steaming mug in your hand, trying not to spill it on your skin. As you approach his office, you feel your heart rate rise and your fingers tremble. You open the door slowly, grateful that Simon never locked it when you were home. The embarrassment you would feel if he opened the door, seeing your naked body holding a cup of steaming coffee, was one you never wanted to experience,

“Simon, I brought you some coffee.” You say, the smile evident in your voice. You hold back a giggle, approaching him. You see him pause, keeping his head down on his work. You bite your lip as you approach him. You set the coffee down, away from his papers. You place your hand on his back, stroking his neck and running your nails up and down his scalp. He sighs, letting out a soft groan. He moves his head away from your hand, chuckling under his breath.

“Don’t do that, love. Gotta get this work done.” He says, his voice stern. You don’t let up. You bend down, hugging him from behind. As your breasts make contact with the soft fabric of his shirt, you feel him tense under you. You smile, letting out a seductive chuckle. You kiss his head, running your fingers over his ears. You press your nipples into his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He looks to the side, his eyes grazing over your naked body behind him. You smile at him, your eyes locking on his lips. He licks his lips nervously, the paperwork in front of him seemingly invisible now.

“You fuckin’ minx.” He says, his voice now a breathless whisper. You yelp as he turns in his chair, wrapping his strong arms around your hips and pulling you onto his lap. He wastes no time in crashing his lips with yours, the taste of him swirling on your tongue. You moan into the kiss, feeling his cock grow hard under your bare ass. You wiggle in his grip, grinding against him. He groans, his lips parting as he grows harder under you. He reaches under you, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down the slightest bit, still kissing you. He palms one of your breasts, taking a nipple in between his fingertips. He squeezes it, a jolt of electricity running through you. He continued kissing you hungrily, grunting and groaning everytime the swollen tip of his dick grazed against your bare skin. You move to straddle him, your feet hanging off the sides of the chair. The chair creaked and groaned under your weights as he shifted, lifting you up.

“Since you wanna be so goddamn greedy, you’re gonna sit and wait for me to be done.” He says, the sternness of his voice causing a warmth to bubble in your clit. You feel a wetness accumulate between your legs, the yearning for him growing stronger by the second. You mewl as he lines himself with your entrance, pushing you down onto his cock. He doesn’t give you a second to adjust, fully bottoming out inside of you. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, bucking your hips forward. Your clit practically weeps for friction as you grind your sensitive bud of nerves against his pubic hair.

“Fuck, lovie. So goddamn warm. So tight.” He whispers, adjusting himself. He leans forward, picking up his pen and clicking it open. You whine, looking back at his paperwork. “I told you. You’re gonna have to wait. Wanted to be greedy, huh?” He teases, smacking the sensitive skin of your ass with an open palm. You continue whining and moaning as he stays hard inside of you, your walls pulsing and weeping for any kind of movement. He holds you down with one hand, filling out his papers with the other. You relish in the feeling of his cock inside of you, keeping you on the edge with every slight movement. He chuckles at your neediness, shaking his head.

“You just wait until I’m done here. You’re a dead woman.” Your heart speeds up at his words, knowing you got yourself into something that seemed to be more than you could ever handle.

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ddarker-dreams · 1 month

Text

Worthy Motivator.

Blade x Reader.

Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

Author notes are at the end of the story!

Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin.

While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.

Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.

While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone.

Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat.

“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…”

You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line.

You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it.

His eyes sear through your being.

“You’re going to Illij.”

You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking.

With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.”

Ah.

A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind.

“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words.

Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.”

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you.

“Permission, huh?”

The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness.

Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.”

Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm.

He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling.

It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion.

Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth.

“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?”

It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit:

“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”

Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate.

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!”

Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean.

“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.”

His response is immediate. “I can’t.”

“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter.

“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’”

Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering.

His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.”

You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut.

Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger?

A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:

reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.

as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.

ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.

illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #stellaron hunters x reader #hsr blade #reader insert #blade brainrot #my stuff

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euaphoric · 8 months

Text

🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 2. 🕸️

Differences

[PAIRING] haechan x f!reader

[GENRE] college au, popular jock x loner, pwp [WARNINGS] angst?, smut, lowkey perv!hc, dry humping, premature ejaculation

summary: haechan was everything you’re not: popular, wealthy, multitalented, and otherworldly attractive. you despise people that get everything handed to them, wanting nothing to do with him— until you get paired up as partners for a project together…

wc -> 2.2k

A/N: so uhhh, this was very much not supposed to be this long but sometimes i just keep going and don’t know when to stop tbh .-. alsoo i hit 1k followers today thanks sm it rlly means a lot 🫶🫶

kinktober m.list

“fuckk, it’s pouring!” you shrill from the sudden heavy downpour, hovering your chemistry textbook over your head which barely shields anything. of course you didn’t predict these weather conditions (and didn’t bother to check your weather app beforehand) so you thought not to bring a jacket. it’s not like it was some light drizzle going on either, it was raining buckets outside— and you were so fucked. you pick up your speed, practically sprinting to the bus stop, completely forgetting that haechan was right behind this whole time. it honestly still hasn’t fully clicked in your mind that you were now lab partners and had to work together for the entire remaning semester. you weren’t thrilled about it, frankly, you were hoping anyone but haechan but since you have the worst possible luck known to existence, you got paired with him by a random draw. now you’re stuck with him for the next 3-4 months…

“damn, i think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard you curse,” haechan quickly catches up with you, taken aback by your choice of language, “wait- here, take this.” he pulls his football letterman jacket off his body, slinging it around your shoulders. “uh- no it’s okay, i’ll be fine.. don’t worry!” you shook your head to refuse but haechan just kept insisting, telling you how he was raised to be a ‘gentleman’ and it’d be morally wrong of him not to offer his jacket to a woman when it’s raining. “just take it y/n, it’s not gonna kill ya!” he promises, only satisfied once you finally cave in after numerous attempts going back and forth. you may have let him win this round but you definitely won’t be going easy on him next time, that’s for certain.

yeah haechan may be nice and all but that doesn’t make him a saint or any different than everyone else, he’s just a regular guy to you, nothing more or less. you’ve known him for a grand total of 2.5 days and on the first day of class you just so happened to be assigned as permanent lab partners with him — the most popular guy at uni practically. haechan was the topic of every girl’s discussion, whether it was wondering if he came from a loaded family, is single or has a girlfriend, or how he can afford a $4,500 pair of sneakers, theres always a spotlight drawn to him somehow. frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of that stuff, you didn’t care much to make a lot of friends nor socialize with everyone. ever since middle school you’ve preferred to be alone, it’s not something you’re embarrassed about, you just value your education more than temporary friendships.

when it was announced that you’d be partners with haechan word spread around quickly, you couldn’t stand attention being cemented on you but haechan simply thrived off that notion. he craved all the gossip about him because he’s an attention whore— at least, that was your impression of him when you first met. you personally have no interest in getting to know him further than finishing this project, he probably has dozens of girls in his phone he can call to hook up with every day if he wanted to. ‘it’s just for one semester y/n you can do this… you’ll be fine.’ you keep telling yourself over and over. after what felt like ages the bus finally came, saving you from standing in silence with him any longer than necessary. soon as the door opens you make a dash for it, scanning your bus pass and looking for a seat within the crowded aisles. there just so happened to be 2 free open seats near the back so you scurry to sit down as haechan follows, taking the seat next to yours.

just as you were about to put in your airpods and shut out the world, haechan turns over to ask something. “so.. why’d you want me to come to your dorm instead of mine?” his face gets unreasonably close to you, completely invading your personal space. “it’s just.. more quiet i guess.” you awkwardly reply, slowly backing away from his overbearing presence. you must admit though, whatever cologne he was wearing smelled really good. “why’re you assuming that my place would be loud? do me and my friends really seem like that much of obnoxious assholes?” he cocks his eyebrow, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. it’s not unusual for haechan to be uninterested in someone but it’s pretty rare for him to find the opposite. the more you push him away the more he wants to know about you, your cold personality fueled a burning desire inside that he hasn’t felt in ages. it’s like having a one-sided crush, he enjoys the chase of going after what’s unattainable, he loves a challenge.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“have you always been this quiet your whole life?” haechan proceeds to bother you yet again while you’re writing notes for the project down. you thought flat out ignoring him would work in your favor, he’s already asked about five questions already and you’ve yet to answer any of them — he doesn’t give up as easy as you thought however. “no seriously, did i do something? is there a reason why you act so cold towards me?” there he fucking goes again. if he actually paid attention he’d notice that you don’t exclusively treat him any differently than everyone else, you didn’t want a partner for this project and rather work on it alone from the start. he’s so full of himself that he can’t even fathom the idea of someone not wanting to shower every ounce of their undying love and attention for him. “god… do you ever shut up?” you lowly mutter under your breath, getting up from your table to go grab something. thankfully you don’t think he heard you, all you got in return was a simple “huh?” still not acknowledging his other questions, you come back with a pumpkin spice candle, setting it on your window sill to light it. you may or may not have a slight obsession with candles, you’ve hoarded so many to the point you lost count but since it’s fall why not bring out your favorite scent of the season. plus it’ll ventilate the room so you don’t have to be reminded of haechan’s strong cologne, which you actually liked but refuse to give his already inflated ego such a compliment.

after an hour or so of drafting outlines for the project you take a break to get some water, coming back to your motionless partner with a bored look on his face. he made a few contributions but you mostly did the work, which you don’t mind doing anyway since you’re confident in your academic abilities. you’ve been sensing haechan’s eyes on you all night, as you took a sip from the glass you feel the most intense awkwardness, you’re hoping he asks something dumb at this point. “are you a virgin?” he blurts out on a whim. you almost spit out your water, there’s no way in hell he just asked you that. “wait— w-what?” all of a sudden you’re a flustered mess and can’t talk properly, why would he want to know something so personal like that anyway? “ah, so you do talk!” haechan belts out a chuckle, gloating in his small victory, “i just wanted a reaction out of ya and finally got it!” you wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face, maybe you were right to call him a pretentious asshole the first day you met. “y’know i can report you to the board for asking your lab partner weird sexual questions, right?” you try your best to sound intimidating but it doesn’t seem to faze him one bit, instead he continues leaning in closer. “stop pretending like you don’t secretly like it,” your skin collects goosebumps when his palm lands on your thigh, “‘cause for someone who supposedly doesn’t like me is acting awfully comfy with me right now.” his grin widens as he looks down, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realize both your legs were intertwined together under the table.

you shriek in a panic, scooting your chair away to the far end of the table, “in your fucking dreams. i actually don’t, perv.” scoffing at his boldness, this is definitely a guy who thinks he can have his way with anyone he wants. even if you did find him attractive that still doesn’t mean you inherently want to sleep him. his face is really pretty though, like way above average, you 100% get why he’s so popular and some part of you wants to find out what all the hype’s about. a little test drive wouldn’t hurt anything, right? “awe, you sound so cute when you swear,” he teases, yet again moving close to you with no regards of personal space, “would sound better if you were moaning it as i fill you up with my cock.” his eyes stare at your lips intensely, wanting more than anything to violently make out with you. that last sentence shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did, but you couldn’t help yourself anymore, you were done trying to fight it. as your lips crash into his, a surge of heat rushes through your body, tilting your head slightly sideways to gain more access. his soft lips felt buttery smooth against yours, melting instantly as he brings his hands to wrap around your waist firmly.

as you run your fingers along the entirety of his length, slowly rubbing his shaft through his jeans. you hear how pretty he sounds when he moans, loving every bit of it in your ear. you keep stroking and feeling haechan’s cock, choosing when to go slow or fast. it made you undoubtedly wet knowing someone like you could turn him on, feeling how stiff his cock got soon as you touched him, pulsating in the palm of your hand. his face scrunches as if he just sucked on a lemon, erratically rutting his hips up as his breathing gets heavier. “ah- shiiit..” he was so far gone, gritting his teeth from the intense pleasure when he suddenly jerks up from out of your grasp. “dammit, dammit, dammit” he whispers under his breath, you strike a confused look when he flinches from you trying to touch him again. it doesn’t make sense how eager he was just a minute ago but is now doing a literal 180. “i already came..” the guilt and embarrassment was apparent in his voice. how could a girl like you even make a guy cum just from simply touching them? he’s definitely had much more experience than you ever will. “i’m not a virgin, are you?” you decide to finally entertain his question, you’ve got nothing left to lose anymore. he definitely wasn’t expecting that answer at all, he was really hoping he could be your first. “yeah, me neither, but you sure do make me feel like one again ..” this is probably the first time something like this has ever even happened to him.

for the past 15 minutes you’ve been grinding up and down against haechan to get his dick hard again, which didn’t take long to do at all. closing your eyes in pleasure as his teeth grazed your skin, biting gently on the sweet spot of your neck. “nnghh~” you mewl, feeling so needy and helpless at the moment, all you could do was continue sensually rolling, massaging, and rubbing your aching core onto his clothed crotch. you really did want more but you couldn’t give it all up too easily, this is all he’s getting from you until you officially say so. “fuck.. feels ssoo gooood..” haechan groans, hips bucking at any slightest movement you make, he needs to fuck your tight cunt so bad. “y-yeah, feels good? wan’ m-more?” you brace your shaky hands on both his shoulders for leverage, feeling the tent in his pants stiffen as you rock your hips in sync with his. the fact you two were acting like some animals in heat, going at it and humping each other fully clothed was surreal to you. it had to be that intoxicating cologne he wore that reeled you in. as you were whimpering and crying out to him, haechan keeps expressing how much he needs you, how badly he wants to be inside. “need this throbbing little cunt to swallow my cock like right now.. i wanna be buried so deep inside.. need to feel your walls clench as you twitch and cum around my shaft, pretty please…” he grunts, already completely whipped and ready to risk it all for you. it didn’t take much for him to cum the second time either, granted he lasted longer than the first time but still wasn’t his best. the way you roll your hips and moan out his name was enough to get the blood rushing through his veins, pushed to his breaking point once again.

you came with him the second time, tangling your fingers in his messy brown hair. a string of curses leave your mouth as you chase your high, still slowly grinding on top of him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “now i understand why you’re so quiet..” he murmurs, veiny hands still finding purchase around your delicate waist. you of course wondered why, which he simply responded with “‘cause your actions do all the talking for you instead.”

#kinktober 2023 #haechan smut #haechan drabbles #haechan x f reader #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x female reader #haechan imagines

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 3 months

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons Two

Since part one had such an explosive response (over 1K notes HOLY MOLY!), I've put some time aside to draft a few more saucy headcanons regarding the King of Hell. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT

The Royal bedroom is a great place to have a good time, but he's developed a bit of an appetite for variety over the eons, so if you're open he'd love to show you some other fun places to enjoy yourselves. It's no surprise that gardens are among his favorite spots for a quick tryst, due in no small part to personal experience, and he's had the Royal Gardens tended and laid out in such a way as to ensure there are more than a few comfortable little groves to hide in. If he plans to use one in particular for a romantic evening alone, he'll even go ahead and get it extra cozy in advance, laying out silken mats and pillows beside baskets of wine and treats to enjoy a night of indulgence together.

- He's quite at ease in the air, even when supporting the full weight of a partner, so if you're not afraid of heights... He knows all the most scenic and private skyscapes of Hell, and can guarantee the two of you won't be disturbed while he makes love to you in the clouds. With his significant experience, he can even remain aloft indoors, making an airborne quickie in the bedroom quite a regular occurrence. There's just something about having your arms around him as the two of you float weightlessly above it all that always gets him going.

- He can shapeshift any part of his body, just so you know... Sure, he manages more than fine with what he's got, but he loves mixing things up once in a while if you're down. Not only can he assume any size or form that exists, he can create whole new ones, and he thoroughly enjoys letting his creativity run a little wild. Any length, any thickness, any shape, it's all possible with a mere snap of his fingers. If you're unopposed to tentacles, or even multiple tentacles, he has ample practice on that front too.

- Making requests of his own isn't something he'll do often, but he does have one that he'll make with ample regularity, and that's for you to please sit on his face. There's just something about being completely devoted to servicing you that just gets him absolutely feral, and he can't even describe how much he enjoys it. You enjoy it too, but be warned, that level of passion from an Arch-Angel can be more than a little overwhelming. Having his hands grasping your thighs and his tongue working as if you're the last and greatest thing he'll ever taste can result in ecstasy great enough to knock one senseless, though it's always well worth it.

- As much as he enjoys fast, feral sex and the struggle to remove clothing quick enough to satiate oneself, he's also quite the fan of taking it slow on occasion. In particular, he loves to undress you piece by piece in a steady build up. You'll often find yourself in front of a mirror as he does so, as he loves to show you exactly what he adores about your body whilst he reveals you, and he'll get very handsy to emphasize his points. Though he can have his own clothes off with a wave of magic, he'll love it if you do something similar for him. The anticipation he feels with every undone golden button is enough to have him quivering by the time he's fully undressed.

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lxvebun · 22 days

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A millennium of unsaid I love you's

Synopsis: love is the most twisted curse of all. Yuuji wonders if it's twisted enough to have even Sukuna in its grip.

Content: Sukuna x gender neutral reader. Fluff+little angst. Lovesick!sukuna, I repeat, Lovesick!Sukuna he's so in love with you it shows in everything he does!! Mentions of character death but its open for you to decide. Slight mention of canon violence. Around 1k words♡ eng is not my first language, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡♡

"Have you ever been in love?" Yuuji wonders out loud, not necessarily expecting a serious answer. It's a little past midnight if he's reading the blurry red numbers on the digital clock correctly, and despite sleep clouding over his eyes, he can't seem to find rest. Blankets are carelessly kicked to the edge of the bed in an effort to relieve himself from the summer heat but it doesn't do much to help him ease into that sleepy state either.

(Talking to Sukuna seemed a lot more interesting than counting sheep)

The question hangs in the air for a moment, silence twists around it like a vine, and just before it completely swallows it up, the answer floats across his mind similar to a thought but eerily spoken in a different voice.

"Yes"

It's said quietly, almost as if trying to maintain the tranquility of the summer night, but this is Sukuna we're talking about. He doesn't take others into consideration. There's something else that keeps him from voicing his answers out loud.

(Perhaps it's the way he can't talk about you without sounding like a love-sick devotee)

"How!?" Yuuji blurts out before thinking, not realizing the question is rather rude until a sharp flash of pain surges through his body, a little corrective behavior sent from Sukuna, no doubt. "Sorry, sorry. I just didn't expect it, that's all.

It's quiet for a bit. Yuuji takes the time to admire the stars and moonlight shining through the sliver of the curtains. It feels like the moon is extra radiant tonight as it spills a wonderful illuminative light across the room.

"I don't know"

There's not much he doesn't know, but to this day it's still a miracle to him that you weaved yourself so effortlessly into his very being. Managing to do so without an ounce of resistance from him. Partly believing you were some kind of heavenly punishment sent to bring the king of curses to his knees. To rid the world of a darkness that never should have existed in the first place.

(He'd let you)

"I just was"

There's another part of him that theorizes that maybe you were something that remained of his human self. A soulmate to complete his when his soul wasn't half as dark and twisted as it is now. Born from the same star, hearts carved from the same moon. A red string binds you to him, regardless of the form he takes. How cruel of fate to tie you to a monster and keep it that way.

Quietness tunes back in as Yuuji's thoughts drift elsewhere. For a second, Sukuna thinks he's done with his late-night interrogation.

"What were they like?"

He's not indulging Yuuji, really. But his heart beats back a little warmth into his soul every time he thinks of you. Every time he thinks of your voice, how his name sounded so syrupy and sweet falling from your lips, a stark contrast to how it's usually uttered.

Every time he thinks of your touch, how you always handled him with a gentleness he probably doesn't deserve. As if under all the scars and cursed markings he was made of the most delicate porcelain. Even when you were angry, it never bled violence into your touch.

Gods, your entire being shined so brightly he could pick you out from among the stars. You dug yourself into his chest, ripped out his darkened heart oh so deliciously, and buried yourself in its place. As if you always belonged there.

Just thinking of you stains his mouth all too sweetly, a millennium of unsaid I love you's building up in the back of his throat. He swallows it down.

"They were beautiful" he speaks aloud this time, voice booming around the room. Yuuji flinches a little at the intrusion "And that's enough of your questions tonight, brat"

"Just one more, please"

.....

Yuuji takes the silence as compliance.

"Are they gone?" He puts it into softer terms. Sukuna's a little annoyed at the consideration.

He doesn't know... and he's not sure what hurts more, being oblivious to your fate, or assuming that you have passed. Surely, Uraume would have taken care of you. Then again, are they even around still? A dullness grows in his chest, splinters its way through his ribs, and weighs down into his lungs suffocatingly so at the uneasiness of not knowing.

Looking through Yuuji's eyes, he catches a glint of a star beaming down into the split in the curtain. Shining an ethereal light so brightly he has to avert his gaze.

( he could pick you out amongst the stars. He refuses to believe it's you)

The ache lessens again as the starlight seems to clear his head. You're bound to him by a string of fate, there's not a single universe out there where you're not with him. Even if it's cruel of fate to do so, even if those thousand years apart have turned him into someone almost unrecognizable. You'll be together again. Perhaps your soul is just waiting for the right moment to appear.

"they'll be back" is all he says, and the finality in his tone urges Yuuji to keep his mouth shut despite the whirlwind of questions still racing through his mind. Memories that don't belong to him flicker through Yuujis's mind as Sukuna seems to dream off. They're blurry and foggy and disappear all too quickly for him to make sense of what he's seeing, but he can feel the overwhelming presence of love dripping from the edges. He doesn't question why his heart starts to race too.

Sukuna has been a rot in his side from day one. but if there ever exists an opportunity to save everyone, if he could give him his happy ending should you come back, he thinks he'll grant it to him.

Thank you for reading angels!!♡ i had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoyed this too!

#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x gn reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #sukuna x gender neutral reader #soft sukuna #jujustu kaisen #jjk

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rowdyslove · 7 months

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𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘. | luke hughes

꒰ genre: mature ;established!relationship!au | drabble

꒰ word count: 1k

꒰ warnings: 18+ themes !! MDNI ! unprotected sex (stay safe), soft sex, riding, swearing, praising.

꒰ author’s note: here is part 2 of my 3 part smut series for my 1k celly !! if you couldn’t tell already, obviously this series is all just soft stuff with the boys :3

<< previous drabble || next drabble >>

“stop s-staring, lu.”

you mutter quietly, eyes watching slowly at the path luke’s fingers smooth themselves along your thighs from where he is laid underneath you. his now much darker green eyes gaze over you as he soakes in every dip and curve of your figure and he breathes out a low chuckle at your words, followed by a slow and languid upward roll of his hips. his cock starting to throb as he plunges deeper, easing further into your warm walls as you straddle his lap.

"can’t help it.. y’re just looking so pretty from down here." he mumbles in response, voice low and slightly shakey, but there's still the small hint of a smile laced within it. a light pink blush rises high on his cheeks, his unruly curls a mess on his head from where he's sinking into the pillows beneath him.

you always knew that when he spoke those words, he was being honest. luke was completely weak for you at all times, at least that much was obvious to you. it almost made you proud for how intoxicating the boy found you—how utterly enamoured he was by you and you're entire body. just how quickly he could feel his sanity fade away into existence at how good you made him feel every single time you sank down on him.

his pace was a slow grind against you, withdrawing at the same pace every time with a hum leaving his throat before he's rolling forward and sinking straight back into your pussy with a wet sound that has your head lulling back, your palm resting against his chest to keep yourself as steady as you can while a breathless whimper of his name falls from your soft lips.

"you're s-so cheesy l-luke." you gasp out, feeling his hand tremble where it gropes at your hips after he feels your pussy throb and clench around him. he groans deep, taking a handful of your breast with his free hand. his hips press deep up against you and yours meet them with the desperate little rolls you make.

"so pretty." he groans, a croaky sound that's accompanied with a wet clap of his body against yours and his words burn in your chest—in the best way possible—when they curl down your spine, sizzling and adding to the warmth that you feel growing underneath your flesh.

"fuck, don’t need to repeat it." you hiccup lightly, feeling his pelvis grind along your puffy clit and your voice twists up a higher pitch when you feel his fingers lead up and press into the small of your back, guiding you lower until your chest is pressed up tightly against his own and he starts pressing kisses along your jaw and cheeks as he grinds into you.

“just speaking the truth, baby." luke pants in your ear, his voice like a dripping whine when his slender fingers squish into the skin of your waist, curling into you when his cock nudges against the sweet spot inside of you that has you melting wholey into him. he groans into each kiss that he places to your face, his pace stuttering when you start to twitch around him and he draws his hips back before they jut forward again.

"fuck—feel’s so good." he grunts, the way you are making him feel shows evidently in the way he clenches his jaw before the force of his hips pick up and he's sinking himself even deeper. gasps and moans come from the both of you, a drawn out sigh sounds from luke below you, followed by hushed praises between soft pants and groans of your name.

the way his cock continues to push right against the spongy spots inside of you has your vision beginning to turn blurry. turning your head and looking up the slight amount you need to to meet luke’s gaze from where you feel his breath fanning along your neck, and he turns to meet your eyes as well.

his lovely lips are parted before the corners stretch into a soft grin, his eyes heavily lidded and still just as dark as before and the sight of him looking so lost in the pleasure has you pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. whines come from the back of your throat when you immediately feel his tongue drag itself along your own and his hand curls around the back of your neck to pull you closer, eagerly drinking in your ragged breaths and needy whispers of his name.

"d-doing so good for me. shit—s-so fucking perfect.” he groans against your lips, his voice an almost whine as he keeps you pinned tight against his chest while his thrusts picks up even faster. the new pace makes you feel like you can't form even the smallest of sentences that aren’t just the simple pleads and whimpers of his name as you feel nothing but bliss hurtling throughout you with every rock of his hips.

"g-gonna cum." you finally manage to speak and the sweet, ragged moan that the confession pulls from luke is what has a familiar rush of warmth curling to your core. your pussy twitches and creams around him as you slowly start to release and he stills beneath you before he's giving all of himself into the needy coaxing of your walls—spilling into you with a wordless but satisfied groan as he allows your pussy to milk him of everything he has.

you feel his hips finally come to a halt, the aftermath of your orgasm causing your thighs to tremble slightly before they're tightening over his slim waist and you feel sleepy wrapped around luke. but you still pull away to blink down at the boy, his eyes fluttering open to send you a sleepy sort of look through a drowsy grin. you feel his palm rest itself on your cheek before he's guiding you back to press another soft kiss against your lips.

"see sweetheart, so pretty all for me."

#⋆·˚ ༘ *—rowdyslove’s 1k follower celly !!#—ness writes #luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl x y/n #nhl fluff #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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abbyscherry · 4 months

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idc if you have one follower. idc if you have 50 followers. i don’t care if you have over 1k followers. i damn well don’t care if you have 8k+ followers. being completely silent on something that is happening right now, pisses me off more than anything. being silent on something that is heartbreaking is making me angry. so-called mutuals blocking me the minute i stop wanting to write smut, smut of a character that doesn’t even exist and focus of spreading awareness of something that is real, is the proof everyone needs to show half of you don’t care. unfollowing because you don’t want to see the fucking truth? the pain and literal suffering that families are going through right now? THAT truth? unfollowing because you won’t be getting your fill of pixel porn? unfollowing people because reblogging information and awareness, doesn’t fit your aesthetic? Babe wake the fuck up and be fucking for real right now, your aesthetic is NOT important. The lives of innocent children, men, women, ect, ARE important. Get your head out your fucking ass.

Use your fucking platform.

Use your following to spread awareness of what’s really fucking going on.

Stop being silent on a real fucking issue that is happening in real fucking time.

#free palestine

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forlix · 7 months

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𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬・l.f.

— "if you smell the same as someone, you'll have some peace of mind."

words・1k pairing・felix x gn!reader genres・hurt/comfort, established relationship warnings・detailed descriptions of an anxiety episode

a/n・ inspired by this thing lix said in an ep of skz code and my favorite line from natsume souseki’s kokoro. i hope this can provide u with some solace; love u

When you slip into your side of the bed, Felix feels a touch of cool air from the duvet being lifted off the mattress, but it’s quickly nullified by your body’s warm pressure against his as you tuck yourself into his side. He looks at you, shrouded in one of his old hoodies, glasses halfway down the bridge of your nose, one hand patting down the blanket around your legs and the other holding your phone to your face as you scan over a text.

This is far from the first time you’ve spent the night at his place, and even further from the first time his anxiety has made itself known beyond just its ceaseless simmering beneath his skin. Yet, it is the first time the two events have happened in simultaneity, and he finds himself wondering if he should tell you about the unmistakable tightness pulling at his ribs or the winding coil waiting to snap behind his eyes.

An answer follows as quickly as the question surfaces, though. You haven’t been dating long, but in only three days short of six months Felix has learned that he could cut his heart open over your hands and you’d still find a way not to spill a drop of his blood. That is the extent to which your love makes him feel safe, secure, sacred; the extent to which he believes in your ability to protect his soul, even when it isn’t something unseen and external bombarding his defenses but the most familiar enemy of all. One that bears his name and wears his face.

“Baby,” Felix says, and your fingers still over your screen. As does your heart, when you see his quivering lips and unblinking eyes.

Your phone falls upon the blanket with a soft thud.

Scrawled all over the lines of your face is the worry that Felix was so reluctant to cause, but the way your eyes soften as you look at him now is a perfect replica of how they did that time you took him stargazing on the roof of your apartment building, and breathing becomes marginally easier right away.

“What’s happening?” You whisper, your fingers swift but so careful as they find and slide over his wrist. “How can I help, angel?”

Shakily, blindly, Felix’s hand chases yours under the sheets, and your palms have hardly touched before you’re completing his unspoken sentence. You lace your fingers with his, their pads fluttering against the back of his hand, and this gives him the strength to utter, to plead—

“Hold me?”

Your free hand moves to graze the curve of his cheekbone, then to hold his nape. Then, with a flourish of movement that Felix hardly registers, you lift yourself to straddle his lap and tighten your arm where it curls around his neck, drawing him so gently into your embrace that he can all but evanesce against you.

Time ceases to exist. What proceeds is simply warmth: your hands and mouth pressing life back into his body with every sweep through his hair and “I’ve got you” upon his ear; his face gone in the cluster of fabric that marks the beginning of your hood, his hand pushing beneath the heavy cotton to seek out your bare back, his breaths timed to the quiet heartbeat he finds there.

The two of you spend what feels like multiple lifetimes locked together in this fashion.

It is somewhere towards the end of life number three that Felix realizes, dimly, arbitrarily, that you don’t smell like anything.

You’ve always come with something, be it the aromatic remnants of your childhood home that you’ve never quite outgrown, the fragrance you always dab behind your ears before leaving the house, or the telltale shampoo-conditioner combination you’ve been using for years. But right now, there is no discernible scent attached to your skin or your clothes; no olfactory indications of your person, your presence.

This surprises Felix so thoroughly that it seals his windpipe closed for a few seconds. It’s as if he’s lost something he never realized was precious until only after it’s slipped from his grasp, and the notion nearly sends him on a new spiral entirely, nearly undoes the progress that you’ve so tenderly helped him make since settling upon his thighs.

But then you shift, and, in a manner reminiscent of brushing thick, tangled vines out of the way to read an ancient stone plaque, Felix skims the tip of his nose over the hollow of your throat, and it is there that he finds the subtle scents of you that he thought he’d forfeited. And his next realization not only pries his lungs open again but brings a much-needed rush of oxygen back into them.

It is his bodywash that you used in the shower and his garment that you slipped into right after drying off. It is his blanket that you’re currently folded together in and his dormitory that you’ve carried a spare key to for weeks now. It's his hands and lips that dote constantly on your neck and waist and shoulders and anywhere they can reach like poppies vying for homes in cracked cement.

It’s not that you don’t smell like anything. It’s that you smell like him.

Like us.

Felix knows well that anxiety is too fickle a creature to ever leave for good, but when this thought occurs to him he senses the foul apparition waver for once.

He starts to unravel himself from you after life number seven, and you expel your relief in the form of a sigh when you pull away and see the faint smile on your boyfriend's face; sense the stable in, out of the chest your hands rest upon.

The puff of air is quickly sucked back in, though, when Felix presses his lips to the underside of your jaw; to the point of your chin; to the apple of your cheek; and, at last, directly to yours. The kiss begins tense and unmoving, still riddled with the tonnage of his burden, but then his hand cradles your face with all the ardor of thank you, and his tears taste like the words I love you when they land on your tongue.

And it is perfect, as is he.

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #k-labels #skz imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #*writing #*minific

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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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A Scoonsalicious Masterlist

All fics are 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. I exclusively write for Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader at this point in time, for maladaptive self-indulgent purposes. Links are right under the banners (except for Unwanted links).

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

Individual fics will contain individual warnings.

Bucky Barnes

(Fluff 💖) (Smut ❤️‍🔥) (Angst 💔) (Horror 🖤) (Violence ❤️‍🩹) (AU 💞) (1k+ Notes 🏆)

Series

⚜️ With Friends Like These...: ❤️‍🔥💔Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntyre never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You. ONGOING (Updated 5/23/24)

⚜️ The Pocket MCU: ❤️‍🩹 A series of miniseries and one-shot prequels featuring the MC from Unwanted, integrated into the existing narratives of the MCU films. ONGOING (Updated 4/30/24)

⚜️ Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔🏆When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. COMPLETED 155.4k words (Epilogue Posted 4/27/24)

⚜️ Post-Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔💖 A series of miniseries and one-shot sequels set between Unwanted and Unbroken. ONGOING (Updated 5/21/24)

⚜️ Unbroken: An Unwanted Sequel: ❤️‍🔥💔💖‼️ It's a secret, but doesn't that title sound ridiculous?! BRAINSTORMING

One Shots

⚜️ Like a Fairy Tale: 💔💖🏆 Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true. 3.4k words (Posted 3/4/24)

⚜️ Your Choice: ❤️‍🔥💖💞You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice. 4.3k words (Posted 3/5/24)

Upcoming

⚜️ Hunted ❤️‍🔥🖤❤️‍🩹 A plane crash leaves you stranded in the Canadian wilderness with the one person who can't seem to stand you: Your mission partner, Bucky Barnes. You'll have to work together and put your differences aside in order to survive and get rescued. Only, the two of you aren't alone; someone, or something, is watching you from the woods. OUTLINING

⚜️ Boys of Summer ❤️‍🔥💔💞 Every summer, the wealthy Barnes family escapes the heat of the city to their beach house on the New England coast, and every year for as long as you can remember, your father has been the caretaker of their property. Now your father's gone and you haven't seen Bucky Barnes since you two spent a summer night together when you were eighteen. Four years later, Bucky's returned with a slew of college friends in tow for the ultimate beach summer to celebrate his college graduation, and his recent engagement. PLANNING

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWELVE

in which you grapple with new emotions of nothing, eddie makes a few bad jokes, and honesty becomes an illusion again.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 3.8k+

→ a/n: half way point, folks! sorry this one is shorter. blame eddie?

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

12:00 ────────ㅇ───────── 24:00

JOHNNY BOY: No photo, no money, right?

ARGYLE 😎: learn some patience broski

JOHNNY BOY: It's been an hour and they aren’t answering. They haven’t said anything. I want my money.

DINGUS: why the fuck are you guys blowing up the chat right now? someone better be dead.

ARGYLE 😎: the lovers haven’t sent their hourly update.

ARGYLE 😎: maybe they are dead. killed each other with passion.

JOHNNY BOY: So what are we buying with that spare 1k, guys?

BIRDIE: oh fuck please tell me they aren’t dead

BIRDIE: did they seriously kill each other? do i need to facetime them?

DINGUS: @BIRDIE honestly, for once, you have a good idea. facetime them. i would call but… something tells me i need to back off for a while.

JOHNNY BOY: I take it you remembered that night at the bar?

DINGUS: oh fuck off (yes. i did.)

BIRDIE: i’m facetiming them now.

DINGUS: great. i’m going back to bed.

JOHNNY BOY: I think I’m going to buy a new camera with my cut of the money personally.

—

HOUR TWELVE - 3:00 AM

One of you should have moved.

It could have been minutes, hours, decades later. The concept of time is completely lost on you as you focus on the weight of Eddie lying over you. He’s half draped across your back, bare chest sinking into your exposed skin, throwing the brunt of his weight in the sliver of cushion available to him beside you. His softening cock is still inside of you, the warmth of him is encasing you from the inside out. You match each deep inhale of his with your own, exhaling on the same silent beat. An unspoken moment of synchronicity, letting the weight of the decisions just made truly crawl beneath both of your skins.

I hate you.

Good, then this changes nothing.

You wondered if he tasted the sour of his lie in the heat of the moment. You wondered if it was just as metallic on his tongue as it had been on your own.

One of you should have moved. But it takes the realization of your incapability to truly hate Eddie Munson as you should and the twitch of your body that follows to rouse Eddie.

“Fuck,” he sighs out, finally pulling out, turning to fully fit his body onto the couch rather than on top of you. You dangle a leg and arm over the edge of the sofa, keeping your cheek pressed to rough fabric and your eyes turned from him as you bite your tongue.

A million words you want to say in the clarity, all lost and slipping between your fingers with time.

I lied. I don’t hate you. This meant everything. This changes everything. I don’t hate you.

“Fuck is right,” you settle on murmuring instead. There’s nothing you can say now that can change what’s transpired. It’s over, it’s done with. Rather than staying stuck in the past still in your rearview mirror, you need to focus on the road laid out ahead of you two.

The two of you lay like that for even longer than you had the previous position, shifting here and there until you both fit comfortably on the lumpy cushions. Side by side, almost spooning, but space left between you. You don’t think Eddie even realizes his hand is grazing soft circles over your thigh, moving on its own accord and sending shivers of comfort down your spine.

Is the road ahead of you two even paved?

“What now?” he suddenly asks, breaking the silence you two had been reveling in. You had been in your own head, and you wonder for a moment if he had been as well. You can’t find it in yourself to glance over your shoulder and look at him, to solve the mystery on your own, instead clinging to those grazes of his fingertips still skimming your thigh.

With an exhausted sigh, you zero in your focus across the room, looking at the clock on the shelves, “I don’t know. It’s already three in the morning, so-”

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“It’s fucking three,” Eddie is shooting up from behind you quickly, “We never sent a fucking picture.”

You understand his panic immediate, realization settling as he springs off of the couch, echoing his words with sincerity, “Oh, fuck.”

In any other scenario, it would have been comical to see a nude Eddie panicked and rushing about his apartment living room. To see him disposing of the condom, to see him struggling to pull back on his sweats and t-shirt before he’s disappearing into his bathroom and emerging seconds later with a blushing face and a wet rag.

He returns to you in an instant, murmuring the world’s softest apology before he swipes the cold cloth over your sore cunt, making you hiss out in surprise.

“What the Hell-”

“I said I was sorry!” he defends, tossing the rag to the floor before he’s grabbing your clothes, his clothes technically, and handing them over to you, “Figured you’d want to be dressed before we send the photo.”

“I-” you stare at the clothes with a contorted face, still trying to brush off the exhaustion that came with the sudden change in atmosphere. You hadn’t even gotten to maneuver the aftermath of it all, pilferage the rubble and bring up the possible path-not-yet-road that you two had to face going forward.

What did this mean for you two now? What did this mean for the remaining twelve hours?

Nothing, you suppose. Maybe you don’t need to ask those questions, because Eddie already answered them for you. It changes nothing.

“Thanks,” you numbly say and take the clothes from him. He grabs your phone off the floor as you shrug the clothing back on.

What the fuck were you expecting?

It was a one time ordeal. It was just a quick fix to get it out of both your systems. Just because you were needy, because you were craving a conversation about it all, didn’t mean Eddie was. There was no difference here between what transpired between the two of you and some random hookup. No feelings, no strings attached. The only difference was the obligation to spend another twelve hours together, if your friends hadn’t already decided their altruistic grace periods had hit their limits.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie grumbles, looking over your plethora of notifications, “Fifty fucking texts. Seven missed calls. We’re fucked,” When you let out a sharp laugh, he looks up from the screen at you, furrowing his brows, “What’s so funny?”

“Can you imagine making it halfway only to fuck up because we were getting along too well?” you snort, unable to help yourself. Twelve hours. You two had managed what already felt impossible, only to screw it all up because you two couldn’t keep it in your pants. Maybe if you admitted that to your friends, they would let the bet continue. You can already imagine Robin’s yips of glee at the prospect.

Eddie’s worrisome look begins to crack, the corners of his mouth twitching, “I… That would… suck.”

His voice is wavering, barely able to keep it together and withhold his own amusement as you beckon for him to hand over the phone, both of you sitting back on the couch, thighs pressed together.

“Suck is one way to put it,” you giggle, barely glancing at the missed notifications, “Seriously. We made it this far. And it’s not like we weren’t together… We were. A little too literally.”

If this is the closest you two come to talking about it, you can handle that.

Eddie finally barks out a laugh, “Yeah. Maybe we took the bet too literally.”

“Just a little bit,” you shimmy a shoulder against his, forcing all laughter and smiles and drowning out any worries that continued to persist in your chest. Now wasn’t the time. This was enough. You can handle it.

Your phone lights up with a Facetime call, making both of you jump.

Robin.

“Oh, no,” you groan, eyes pinching shut.

“It could be worse,” Eddie notes, leaning into your space. His side presses into yours and it makes you want to die, “At least it’s just Buckley.”

You shake your head, ignoring the burn he ignites in you with every slight touch still, grumbling, “Right, it’s just Buckley.”

The two of you had sex. It should be out of your system. There was no need to continue to feel goosebumps raise when his shoulder knocked yours, when his knee slotted up against yours. It has to be out of your system.

You swipe your thumb to answer the call against your better judgment.

“Oh my God, you two idiots are alive! I swear to God, we thought you two killed each other! I almost had to go across the hall and have Steve predial for the cops if you two didn’t answer, I-”

Robin’s rambling begins without so much as a hello. She’s speaking a mile a minute, taking no breaks, no pauses, no breaths, as you stare blankly at the screen where she’s half hidden in the shadows of her dark room.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers, eyebrows raising. You watch him through the screen, afraid to turn your actual face towards him. You don’t trust yourself. It should be out of your system, but it isn’t. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk so fast-”

“Fuck off, Munson,” despite Eddie’s effort to keep his voice low, Robin picks up on his words mid-rant, “My point is, we were worried. Why didn’t you send your photo or answer any calls?”

“We forgot,” you supply lamely. You catch Eddie’s fight against a smirk as he coughs over the beginnings of a scoff, and immediately shoot your elbow that’s out of frame into his side.

Robin narrows her eyes at the screen, “You just forgot? How? No offense, but I can’t see you two getting distracted, especially with each other. We’ve all been under the assumption you just… sit on opposite sides of the room, and pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

Eddie coughs again, followed by a grunt from another pierce of your elbow.

“Have you considered that we might have been sleeping?”

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m so glad that you’re all-knowing, Buckley,” Eddie says as he composes himself, “Where would we be without a sleep expert?”

You finally turn your head to glare at him face-to-face rather than through the screen, trying to warn him to back off. Robin could go hours in the ring with Eddie, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to listen to the two banter off each other. He meets your warning gaze with wide eyes, almost as innocent as a child caught in the act. You can’t even stay mad at him – the moment those autumn brown eyes meet yours, soft and gooey and terribly laced with tempting gold, you’ve melted for him. All your defenses fall.

You need to talk about it. You need to know if he means it.

“What does that even mean?” You ask as you slowly turn your head away from Eddie, “What exactly are we supposed to look like after sleeping?”

“I don’t know. Messy hair, squinty eyes, maybe some dried drool and appearing more… more… caught off guard?” Robin rattles off her list as she stares at them through the screen, shifting around from where it looks like she’s laying in bed, “Actually, now that I’m saying all this outloud, maybe you guys were sleeping,” you and Eddie freeze up in sync. Technically, you two could pass off as the Facetime being a rude awakening in your mutual dishevelment – both your hair and Eddie’s was messy as could be, shirts looking to be twisted from putting them on so carelessly. Hell, at your own detrimental embarrassment, you bet Robin would spot dried drool on your face if she looked close enough. Just not for the reasons she would believe, “Shit, yeah, okay. I believe you guys. You were sleeping. Our bad.”

Just as you sigh in relief, Eddie’s face blooms with a wicked grin.

“That or we were fucking.”

It comes to your attention now that it is very hard to decipher when Eddie is joking. You wonder just how many times you had misinterpreted his sarcasm, how many times he had said a blatant truth only for you to take it for a grain of salt.

Most of all, you wonder if Robin catches your distress at him actually exposing you two. You don’t even have it in you to shove your elbow especially painfully into his side this time, completely dismayed and unsure of what to say.

She doesn’t catch it. She only snorts, rolling her eyes, “Right. Of course – or that.”

You’re still unable to respond as Eddie continues to grin, laughing along with Robin, including her in an inside joke she had no idea of her involvement in. She has no idea.

Because you guys were fucking. You’d had sex with Eddie, let him use you and throw you around like a goddamn rag doll. And now, here he was, so casually joining around with your mutual friend about it as if it were some absurd dream. Some stupid joke, some unreasonable thought of something that could never possibly happen.

“Okay, well I’ll let you guys go back to bed-”

“Or jumping each other’s bones,” Eddie interrupts Robin.

She makes an exaggerated gagging noise, though the corners of her mouth are pulled up in a smile, before continuing, “And I’ll let everyone know we probably won’t get an update for the next hour. Just… don’t kill each other, alright? Who knows, maybe you guys can even become friends?”

You wait for Eddie to take the punch line of something along the lines of being friends with benefits, to make a spectacle yet again of what had just transpired to an unsuspecting Robin.

It meant nothing to him. It was all a joke to him.

“See ya, Robs,” you offer weakly, numbly, hardly able to raise a hand to wave her off. You know that to her, this is just a symptom of fatigue. The type of tired solved by crawling back into bed and sleeping it off. She’s not worried; she even grins wider as she says her final goodbyes to you and Eddie before the call ends.

Eddie knows better than Robin.

He waits a few seconds after the call has ended and his apartment has fallen silent again, watching your slow movements as you sit your phone down on the arm of the couch.

You lied to yourself, clearly. This incessant ache in you, this question that has begun to run laps in your mind, will never be satiated or sedated through joking discussions of what happened. You can’t pretend like your hips won’t carry invisible scars for the rest of your days from where Eddie’s hands scorned you, you can’t forget how his lips fit against yours in a movement easier than breathing. Kissing him, holding him, filling him had been more effortless than filling your lungs with the air necessary for survival. And you hadn’t caught onto it in the moment, hadn’t recognized your mistake and stopped this train from running off its tracks quicker than you could handle.

That’s all it was. A trainwreck. You and Eddie were a trainwreck, and the only casual so far it seemed was you.

An explosion. A glass wall. A tormented ocean. Every single transaction between you and him ended with you wounded, never him.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks when you suddenly stand from the couch, not really sure of where you were going to go but no longer capable of just sitting and thinking, pondering, drowning.

“Fine,” you curtly reply, deciding the kitchen might be a good place to start. Get a glass of water, gulp it down instead of false hope or fake niceties Eddie was probably going to shower you with now.

Or maybe there would be no face niceties. Maybe he’d go back to being cruel, and in that, not realize he was being kind to you and your heart that had grown too heavy over the last twelve hours.

“You don’t look fine,” he persists, and follows you. It nearly sparks irritation. But of all the emotions rushing through you right now, you don’t have the energy to spare for petty irritation.

“Then stop looking,” you sigh as your eyes trace over his cabinets, trying to remember which one holds his glasses. He gets too close too fast, coming up behind you and opening one of the cabinets as if he was reading your mind. A collection of mugs, plastic cups, and crystal glasses alike line the shelves. You focus on them rather than him.

“What’s wrong?” he insists, actually starting to get on your nerves now.

You didn’t want to tell him what’s wrong, because it was stupid. The most predictable cliche has come to fruition, and you only have yourself to blame. The anger he’s assuming is his fault is just misdirected. You just needed to get your emotions under control – if you could accomplish that, you could survive these last few hours.

“It’s nothing,” you push back, finally looking at him. You worry for a second that you might be teary eyed, but you know better. Your corneas burn, everything aches, but your vision is clear as day. He’s clear as day, and it makes the ache all the more unbearable, “I’ll get over it.”

You’re not supposed to want him this way. You’re supposed to hate him.

He stiffens, “Get over what?”

“It.”

“I-” he stammers at your vague response, mouth pressing into a harsh line as his eyes narrow, “Jesus Christ, how are you still this fucking stubborn? After everything that’s happened tonight? After everything that happened in the last hour?”

“I’m not stubb-” you fruitlessly try to correct, but he bulldozes on without listening.

“I thought after I had been balls deep in you, maybe we had made some progress – maybe we could be friends-”

“Are you fucking joking?” you scoff, trying to properly process the sentence he’d just said and not get hung up on him using the phrase balls deep, “I- No, okay? Sex doesn’t mean friendship, Eddie. That’s not how this works.”

“Then how does it work?” if you were stupid, you’d assume he was begging, “Please enlighten me. How do I get you to trust me?”

“Why do you need my trust so badly?” you snark back. Misdirected anger, and he’d put himself directly in the line of fire, “Why do you want that of me so goddamn badly when it’s clear that after tonight, we’ll pretend all of this never existed?”

He steps back as if you slapped him. As if he hadn’t been the one just making a mockery of whatever was happening between the two of you.

“You said it yourself,” you continue to ramble, waving around a previously fisted hand, “It changes nothing. And it’s not your problem that I struggle with that. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself – there’s a difference.”

“It doesn’t feel like there’s a difference,” Eddie immediately snaps, “You’re mad because I said… I said that? Because I said your words back to you? Because if you can recall correctly, sweetheart, you’re the one that said it all means nothing first.”

The misdirected anger is starting to feel perfectly directly with each word that leaves his mouth, “Because you asked me if it all meant nothing first. They’re still your words, not mine!”

“I only asked that because you’ve made it very clear that you enjoy hating me.”

“You think I enjoy this?” your voice breaks with emotion, taking a step closer to him. Your toes brush his, “You think I enjoy all this fighting with you? You think I enjoy seeing you act like it’s painful to be in a room with me for more than a few seconds at a time?”

His hardening gaze, his hands twitching at his sides, the lilt of his mouth as the corner folds downward. Now that you’ve tasted him, you could never erase yourself of him.

“You really want to know what I think?” he’s not screaming like he should be. The two of you should be shouting to the ceilings, screaming until the surrounding neighbors could hear you. You want to yell until your lungs give out and noise complaints have been filed, but he’s not having it. He’s quiet as he takes the next step closer. His head dips in closer to yours, lips nearing the shell of your ear, “Do you truly want to know what I think about all of this?”

“Yes,” you whimper out, the need for yelling being swallowed down for the time being, “That’s all I want.”

It’s true. You don’t know if he can see it, the crack in your composure as you admit it, but it’s the truth. You want to see inside his mind, watch the mechanics ticking in real time. You need to know his every single thought and feeling so badly, your hands shake.

“I think,” his voice comes out as a husky whisper directly against your ear, chest just shy of brushing against yours, “you never really hated me, baby,” he pauses, and one of his hands come out to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you in closer to him, “I think, you just wanted me so badly, it made you into a dumb, angry slut.”

“You’re cocky,” you shakily laugh. You need to stop this. You need to push him away, save yourself.

You lean into his touch and silent commands, pressing up into him. Going as far as to stand up on your tip-toes so that your nose brushes against his neck.

“Am I?” he chuckles, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

You need to push him away. You need to put distance. You need to remember this means nothing.

“You asked me what I thought, sweetheart,” he goes to pull away, and you follow, “And I’m nothing if not an honest man.”

It means nothing. You can deal with your own ramifications tomorrow. You can work through the catastrophe relief come tomorrow afternoon, nurse away the heartbreak and sore disappointment.

You have him for one night. One night. To let him slip away from you is to waste it.

“Honest?” you try to scoff, but it comes out a breath against his skin, both hands now wrapping around your waist as he turns the two of you and cages you against the counter, “You… You can’t even honestly tell me why you hate me. You have to use some bullshit excuse.”

His hands rake down your sides before cupping beneath your thighs, lifting you to sit on the counter. He’s fucking smirking. Completely unaffected by your words.

“Would you like me to be honest now, doll?” he rasps, leaning back to take you in, “Or would you rather me eat that poor pussy right here, right now, on this counter?”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie is such a fuckin idiot

2K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 8 months

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hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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lunarw0rks · 9 months

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Hiiii, saw that ur reqs r open and I'm (desperately) asking for a Soap oneshot <33 U can do whatever u want, just rlly asking for fluff with him pLEASE

Skinny Love // Drabble

Summary: Your best friend Soap confesses, reciprocating feelings you were convinced he didn't have for you. Warning(s): bsf!soap, friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, gn!reader, no use of y/n Word Count: 1k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ SOAP MASTERLIST // have a request? ˖⁺‧₊˚ ask box / ao3 ver. ˚₊‧⁺˖

After nearly a year of friendship, things had changed.

You began to see him differently, like an object of your attraction you had to have.

It was almost unbelievable, considering the rocky start you two had in the beginning. He was a friend of a friend, completely plastered and obnoxious the night you met him. To add to it, he spilled his bear all over you, which was the final straw that evening.

In hindsight; it couldn’t have worked out any better. If it weren’t for that clumsy happening, you wouldn’t have reached out to him to apologize for snapping. Without that, you wouldn’t have conversed with him when he was sober, no longer a drunken prick. When you heard his pleas for forgiveness, how genuine they were, you quickly realized you two really had gotten off on the wrong foot.

Several months later, the unfortunate first impression was nothing more than a memory.

————— ୨୧ —————

Your laughter echoed through the summer air; warm and stuffy despite the setting sun. ❝She was totally flirting with you, Johnny!❞ You matched his speed, a brisk jog as he distanced himself from the ice cream shop.

The cashier was flirting with him, it was obvious, given the fact that she made little attempt to conceal it. In all fairness, you two were of similar age and out for ice cream together — you mirrored that of a couple. Though, Soap had gone quiet when pursued, eyes either on you or the menu, for whatever reason.

❝Aye, whatever you say, love.❞ He shovels some rocky road into his mouth to keep himself quiet, sitting beside you on the park bench. For the first time that night, he was looking at anything else but you. His hands had gone clammy, his face flushed and heated, all a foreign feeling to him. He was rarely nervous when making a move. But you weren’t someone eyeing him across from a pub, you were a dear friend — one he wanted to be more with.

Soap could let you think it was his own stubbornness preventing him from accepting advances or indulging in hookup culture, but it wasn’t. He only had eyes for you, literally and figuratively. Typically he read like a book, yet you were entirely clueless or pretending to be. You had no clue he was head over heels, you were too stuck in your own head. Confiding in you about his feelings wasn’t a question of him fearing rejection, it was more of a concern about causing you to distance yourself from him. That nearly a year of friendship would fizzle away until it was nothing.

You savored the taste of your own gelato — the one he ordered for you because he already knew your favorite. ❝You’re so lucky to have me, Johnny.❞ Your teases were chewing at him, piece by piece. It wouldn’t be long before he spilled his guts, not long at all.

Soap made his best attempt at playing it cool, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. ❝Would be lost without you, that’s for sure…❞ He murmured, which only made your stomach churn. Has your unintentional pining made him uncomfortable? He was uncharacteristically quiet right now and refused to look you in the eyes. On your end, it looked as if he loathed your existence, yet to him, it was merely nerves feasting on his confidence.

Playful flirting was inevitable with him, it was in his nature. There was a line that was never crossed, however. Tonight, it would be, though. Either that or his confession would do irreparable damage to a close friendship.

❝What is it? I was only kidding, Johnny, you know that.❞ You set the sundae down on the bench beside you, full attention on your suddenly distant best friend.

Soap’s head snapped back to you when he heard your concern, ❝I’m not mad at you.❞ It sounded like the lie of a century, but it wasn’t. This was his fault for being so nervous, for walking on eggshells around you.

You scoffed at his words, eyes lit up in a baffled manner. He had such distaste written on his face like he had seen a ghost. By now, your head was spinning with worst-case scenarios. ❝What is it, then? Is there something on my face? Or… are you trying to get rid of me? If you don’t want to be around me, you should just say it—❞

❝I’m in love with you.❞ His blunt statement overlapped with your expelling racing thoughts.

For a few seconds, your clueless rambling continued, until you froze when you finally processed his words. ❝What?❞ There was no chance you misheard him, not when he had interrupted you with such firmness. Him, in love with you? Meaning, he reciprocates the anguish of suppressing one's feelings for weeks? Now you were just frustrated. This whole time you had been dancing around the subject, purposefully attempting to set him up with dates, he had felt the same.

❝Johnny, you don’t mean that.❞ You wanted him to mean it, but you had already scrambled to sway his desires. Surely it was a rash statement made to shut you up, it had to be. But Soap was never a man with concealed motives.

In a sudden advance, his hands cupped your face, ❝when have I ever said somethin’ I didn’t mean, hm?❞ He asked with lips straightened into a line. He had a point, and he knew it. There weren’t any other excuses you could find to convince him to not cross that imaginary line in the sand.

You sighed heavily when you realized fighting your feelings wasn’t worth it. ❝You haven’t.❞

When his words were received with a slight crack in your worries, he eased up on his grip, though his hands remained on either side of your face. Soap leaned a bit closer, his heated sugary breath on your mouth.

His thumbs caressed your skin, both sets of eyes unblinking and yearning for the inevitable.

❝Now, are you goin’ to shut your mouth and let me kiss ye? Or do I have to do all the work?❞

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish fluff #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod x gn!reader #cod x female reader #141 x reader #141 task force #141 headcanons

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virgincels · 6 days

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🍉 FICS FOR GAZA !

hai guys! im participating in @ficsforgaza please consider reading and donating for this, at the moment im only taking wip sponsorship!

i have tons of wips so i’ve only put up ones that are likely to be written first or have already been started! whenever wips r completed i’ll take them down, i’ll add new ones when necessary and etc.

to participate in this, send me an ask with a screenshot with proof of the donation! include the name of the wip you’d like me to add to! for each $1 that is donated towards a vetted fundraiser is 100 words. my word counts are estimations, im likely to go over! the ficsforgaza account has many fundraisers linked!

my limit is $10 for 1k words.

there is a more thorough explanation here on the ficsforgaza blog! please go through the linked posts carefully, any frequently asked questions are answered there.

remember to not personally donate to ME! only send me proof of your donation.

available wips

YOU JUST CAN’T TELL

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddne, daddy-daughter incest, pornstar!leon, smut, barebacking, age gap, daddy kink

your dad is a present deadbeat if those exist. he’s laid-back, sleazy and lazy—an asshole essentially, and when he’s not an asshole, he’s a cunt. you also find out that his porn filmography is pretty lengthy.

words sponsored - 0/6000

progress - 3300/6000

XXXTRA

ft. re2r!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x jack krauser

tags. pornstar!au, mfm, accidental cucking, dp, mxm, anal, age gap

you’re a pro at taking cocks, one might be a jawbreaker and the other a mouthful, but you treat ‘em right like you’re supposed to—they’re just not putting in much work for you.

words sponsored - 0/5000

progress - 400/5000

ADA ADORE

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x ada wong

tags. threesome, toxic relationship, divorce (between aeon), smut, cucking, fxf

a therapy pet, she says, and leon thinks it might not be so bad. pets fill up the space children carve out. but you’re not quite a pet or a child or anything extraordinary really.

words sponsored - 0/6000

progress - 0/6000

MY GIRLFRIEND’S GIRLFRIEND (SHE LOOKS LIKE YOU)

ft. id!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x shenmei

tags. threesome, cucking, slight angst, smut

you’re not his girlfriend, but something akin to a pet. so you sit back and watch him put his hands all over some other girl’s body. a coworker you think.

words sponsored - 0/5000

progress - 0/5000

BLACK WATER (TWO)

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. cop!leon, bioweapons, farmer!reader, canon typical violence/gore

a continuation to the first chapter that can be found on my masterlist!

words sponsored - 0/4000

progress - 100/4000

LOVEY DOVEY (LOVE 4EVA)

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!readwr

tags. ddlg, marriage, babies, hurt to comfort, smut, third n final lovey dovey part!

leon s. kennedy gets domesticated.

words sponsored - 0/10000

progress - 1000/10000

EXPOSURE

ft. vendetta!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. past non-con/rape, therapist!reader, age gap, mommy issues, daddy issues, smut

it didn’t happen like this. leon never liked her very much, but he likes you, so he likes this.

words sponsored - 0/5000

progress - 0/5000

PUSH ‘N PULL

ft. re6!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. non-con, dso worker!reader, teasing/flirting, reader leads leon on, smut

you wanted something out of him. leon thought that something was dick - he gave it to you. can’t blame the guy.

words sponsored - 0/6000

progress - 200/6000

GOLDILOCKS

ft. jack krauser x leon s. kennedy x chris redfield x carlos oliveira

tags. foursome, pornstar!au, dp, hair pulling, mxm, facials

goldilocks and the three bears.

words sponsored - 0/7000

progress - 100/7000

PAWS AND PREJUDICE

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. non-con, hybrids, power play, harassment, smut, guard dog hybrid!reader

it’s simple really, you pet a pup and they like you. play tug of war with a pup and they fall in love with you. kick a pup and it’ll come skittering back. called a halo effect or some shit.

words sponsored - 0/5000

progress - 0/5000

please remember NOT to donate to me! only send proof of the donation. check out @ficsforgaza for anything else! thank you for reading <3

#fics for gaza #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #resident evil angst #resident evil fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year

Text

Imagine Going For A Joy Ride With Mirage

Mirage X Human FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Mirage is a jerk, teasing

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) Transformers Rise of the Beasts is taking over my brain. While Optimus is my absolute favorite and always will be. There’s other characters I adore and Mirage is being added to that list. He really made the movie and I loved some of his lines. He made me laugh. I’m sure I’m not the only one who would enjoy an imagine with Mirage so I had to write one. I had this idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it anyway. So enjoy my Transformers madness, there may possibly be more where this came from! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Mirage was becoming antsy the more he had to lay low. Optimus had given strict orders that they were supposed to stay hidden and with no human contact. Which was hard when all you wanted to do was transform and stretch your peds. Mirage became grumpy if he couldn’t have any fun and he blamed it all on Optimus, so many times he disobeyed orders. Finding secluded areas to transform and just disrupt his mundane existence. One night you really disrupted everything. Mirage had thought that he had picked the perfect place at night to enjoy some time of freedom, when he spied a figure in the shadows. What you were doing there had completely left your mind when you saw the large mechanical being. With a scream you tried to run away only to be caught and trapped inside the cab of a silver and blue Porsche. No matter how much you tried the handle or kicked the window you couldn’t escape, when the car talked and froze you in your panic.

That’s the night Mirage met you and you met Mirage. While you liked the Cybertronian he was more fond of you and actually having a friend to talk to. He was easy going and made you laugh, though he could be overwhelming at times when he was really wanting to do something. His favorite though was joy riding. Your screams and panicked pleas gave him that jolt he was missing when he drove by himself.

You had met up with Mirage in the same spot as usual. The mech was pacing back in forth, watching you intensely as you sat on your regular rubble strewn spot. You would either sketch or read while he cracked jokes and tried to butt into what you were doing. You could feel his optics staring straight through you, making it hard for you to concentrate. With a sigh you shut your sketch book and turned towards him. He perked up now that he saw that he had your attention.

“What is it Mirage,” you asked. “If you stare at me any harder you’ll melt me with your laser beams.”

“I don’t have those sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But it would be awesome I did!”

“Mirage! Focus please,” you couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head getting back to the topic at hand.

“I want to go joy riding,” he knew as soon as he asked, you would refuse. Though he did have his ways to make you say yes. You were a sucker if he brought out the water works or the sad optics. You were such a pushover and he loved that about you.

“Absolutely not,” you shrieked. Before Mirage could say anything else, you bolted. He sighed at your futile attempts to escape him. He picked you up from the ground, your protests echoing through the ruined building.

“Relax,” Mirage held you gently. You kicked and fruitlessly tugged at a digit trying to loosen his grip. Mirage held firmly so you gave up while still glaring viciously at him.

“I don’t wanna go for a “joy ride” Mirage! I’m going to die of a heart attack one of these days with your crazy driving!”

“Hey,” he scoffed, “I don’t drive crazy.”

“Oh excuse me reckless then,” you snarled.

“Thank you,” Mirage paused. “Hey!”

“My species is on the verge of extinction every time you take to the road Mirage!”

“At least you’ll be safe.”

“Oh sure that makes me feel so much better,” you threw your hands up and huffed.

The mech didn’t continue to argue with you, wordlessly transforming with you still in his grip. He plopped you into the passenger seat, your seatbelt buckling itself around you with a little extra squeeze. Mirage’s tires squealed as he peeled out, causing you to grip the seat with fingernails dug into the material.

“Loosen up sweetheart you’re hard on the merchandise,” Mirage’s voice came over the radio. His tone echoing with happiness. You kicked the dash in retaliation.

“I’ll show you hard on merchandise Mirage!”

He chuckled darkly and sped up, the acceleration pinning you back into the seat. Despite his teasing, Mirage did go a little easier this time letting you enjoy the ride more than the other times. After the initial anger and fear had left you actually began to laugh. After Mirage made his way back, he did a few donuts before finally coming to a stop. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were flushed when he finally opened the door, letting you out. Your legs were wobbly and walking was rough until Mirage came to your side and you were able to rest a hand on him for support.

“Having fun,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah tons. I love having jello legs,” you snorted making him laugh.

“Wanna go again? I like having you inside of me, holding on tightly.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” you choked. “It sounds weird when you say it like that!”

The large mech knew what he did to you and he enjoyed making you flustered. He also liked making you laugh or hold on tightly when you felt a twinge of fear at his reckless driving. But in all honesty he could never bring himself to hurt you. He had felt so lonely until he found you and now you were making the days worthwhile until Optimus was ready to make a move. Until then Mirage would enjoy the moments he got to be with you. He watched you trying to tug a knot from your hair before scooping up your abandoned sketch book. You noticed him staring again, but this time there was no mischievous look in his optics or features. A touch of sadness could be seen until it melted into his usual cocky look. You shook your head but walked over to him anyway, looking up towards him.

“I’m glad I met you Mirage,” you spoke.

He nodded happiness welling in his spark, “I’m glad too.”

#Mirage X Reader #Mirage / Reader #Mirage #Transformers #Mirage Imagine #Transformers Imagine #Transformers Rise of the Beasts #TfMirage #Not My Gif #My Writing

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