#i bet he’d be like. what did i do wrong i did nothing wrong why am i rubbing ppl the wrong way blah blah blah

[mae-gi-writes]

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

#gally #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally maze runner #the death cure #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #tmr imagines #the maze runner #the scorch trials #gally x you #gally imagine #gally headcanons #gally scenario #gally scenarios #romance #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner headcanons #tmr fanfiction #tmr x reader

[cherry-leclerc]

true temptation ☆ cl16

genre: sainz!reader, humor, nnn (mommy, i can explain), smut, fluff, whipped!charles, established relationship

word count: 2k

Your boyfriend makes a decision to participate in NNN, but immediately regrets it when he realizes just how difficult it is to stay away from you. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, fingering

req!... probably the longest drabble i’ve done so far, but i hope you all enjoy! 

“You’re never going to last.”

The Monegasque’ eyes challenge you as you stand there unimpressed, hands on your hips. It had all started with him barging in on you and calling an ‘emergency couple’s meeting’.

Pacing the room, he goes back and forth, mumbling slowly, as if creating a plan up in his head. As far as you’re concerned, he was never going to actually do it. The man was obsessed with you. 

“Have a little faith in me,” he groans, hands brushing his hair back in despair. 

His so called - ‘emergency’ -  was that he would be taking part in No Nut November. No kissing. No sex. 

Or anything remotely related to it.

Walking up to him, you pat his chest. His hands find their way down to your waist, doe eyes staring back up at him.

“I will… But I’m going to make your head spin.”

-

He started off strong. He even felt a bounce in his step when he entered Ferrari Hospitality; he swore he felt like he was walking on sunshine. 

“You’re actually doing it?” 

Joris, too, had no hope for his friend. He had seen the way the green eyed boy would cling onto you as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. The way he talked about you, even when you weren’t around. 

“Oui. Why? Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

His friend tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it for a minute. “Not sure. All I know is that your and Pierre’s bet on who can last longer is never going to end up good. You can’t even go a single second without kissing her!”

“He said he could last longer than me? I have to prove him wrong….” His mind slips over to the last part. “I can live without her kisses for a month. It’ll be fine.”

The Ferrari driver makes his way to his team, properly analyzing what faults his car had and how he can make the best out of it. Frustrated, Charles rubs his eyes. 

“I will do the best I can, but I can’t promise a podium. Not with a car like this.”

Taking notes, Xavi nods as he walks away. “Hi, Xavi!” The sound of your voice instantly makes him ease up as he searches for you. His jaw goes slack.

“What are you wearing?”

Smiling wide with eyes crinkled, you rush over to him. “It’s only a dress.”

But it wasn’t just a dress. He knows you did it on purpose, wearing the little black dress he had last fucked you in. It’s the way it fans your thighs as the wind gently teases anyone passing by. 

“You’re supposed to be on my team. Are we really going to let Kika and Pierre win?”

Rolling your eyes, you tippy toe, naturally about to kiss him, but stop yourself before you do. He frowns. 

“You are sooo right!” You comedically screech as you slap your hands against your cheeks. “I do want us to win! Forget the kiss, my mistake.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. 

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

-

He’s a week in and he’s finally starting to lose his grip.

“You’re sweating buckets, mate,” Daniel points out as he lets out a loud laugh, doing a muppet dive. Charles unbuttons his collared shirt. 

“It’s the heat, it’s the heat.”

The Aussie furrows his eyebrows and he raises a hand up to feel the air. Light breeze. Shivering, you strut over to your boyfriend. 

“Can we leave? It’s getting too cold.”

And he hates the way that dress clings onto your body, your figure being completely shown off. Nothing but dirty thoughts have entered his mind from the moment he first saw you. 

“Sure.”

Kicking off your heels, you throw yourself onto the bed, face first. Shooo tirefff, you mumble against the sheets. He purposefully takes a seat across from you, knowing he’d be tempted to cross the line if he didn’t. 

Tossing over, you reach out for him. And he’s about to turn you down, but he notices the way your nose is painted pink - your cheeks, too - and soft, tired eyes meeting his. His heart melts at the sight. So, he reminds himself that a hug with his girlfriend is nothing bad.

Climbing onto his lap, you dig your face into his chest, short dress riding up. He physically has to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. Instead, he traces his fingers up and down your spine. You shudder.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck, Charlie?”

Right there, is his breaking point. He’s ready to kiss you, finger you, eat you out, fuck you, anything. But you giggle teasingly as you pull back, a wicked smile drawn. 

“Whoops. Never mind.”

-

He’s known you wouldn’t make this easy on him. It’s almost as if you’ve made it your mission to screw with his head - and while he would normally love it - in this case, it was killing him.

Dance with me, you would beg him and you sway in front of him. It was a rare moment of it just being you two, so naturally, you took advantage of it. You showered, did your skincare, watched a movie, but the moment you heard Sparks by Coldplay echoing from his phone, you immediately jumped up like a bunny.

Then, his heart would melt, and melt, and melt - and melt some more. It would only be a reminder of what a perfect match you both were. He would memorize your face once again; no makeup, eyebags due to long travels with him, a small cut on the bridge of your nose from earlier when Lando had accidentally hit you with his frisbee, pink lips he so desperately missed. 

He would oblige, the way you knew he would. He found home within you as you would both sway, your feet on top of his as he would lead you both, you having to do nothing but close your eyes and feel his heartbeat. And it was so sweet to know that it was only yours.

I love you, he would remind you as if he didn’t already tell you a million times before. As if it were a way to make up for all this. And you would say-

“I know.”

-

“How are you keeping up?” 

The Frenchman smiles proudly as he takes a sip of water. “I’m actually doing fine. You?”

Charles gulps, green eyes following to where you stand next to Kika.

“Good.”

-

“It’s actually not that hard.” 

Kika and you had been touching up on your boyfriend's challenge. She would say it as if it were the easiest thing. You slump against your chair.

“That’s not fair… Mine has the most beautiful face ever!”

“Hey!”

You squeal as she aims a pillow at you. I’m sorry! The Portuguese laughs too, sticking her tongue out. You sigh. “I do miss him, though.”

“Yeah…”

“Have we seriously just been talking about how horny we are?”

“Don’t say it like that!” She bites her lip. “We have.”

“Why did they ever think this was going to be a good idea?”

Propping her arm against the table, she beams. “It’s not, but I heard from Pierre about how much Charles is struggling.” You groan.

“Yeah, well that’s nothing but his own fault.”

-

It’s now been 2 weeks and he’s already given up. His pleads were convincing. 

C’mon, baby. Let me fuck you.

It’s been too long. I miss the way you taste.

But you stood your ground. 

“No, no, no.” You shook your head, running away. Seeing Carlos, you hide behind him. “You brought this onto yourself! Now you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Confused, Carlos questions you both on what you’re talking about. It’s just that your sister won’t let me-

“Stop! That’s my brother!”

The Monegasque shrugs as Carlos turns to you. What is he talking about? Your face burns up as you brush him off. “Nada, nada - he’s just being a jerk.” And so, he believes it and walks away, too tired to deal with any of it.

 You let out a squeal when Charles plunges towards you. He picks you up, carrying you to his motorhome.

“Let go!”

Dropping you onto his small bed, he stares down at you like a lion salivating over their prey. You suppress a whimper, clamming your legs shut. He raises a brow.

“You’re telling me you don’t want the same thing I do? I promise I’ll do it just the way you like it.”

Closing your eyes, you can picture it. You can feel him already, pressed up against you. You do want it, you do. Opening your eyes, you shake your head. 

“Just two more weeks to go.”

-

“We lost.” Taken aback, you snort. What do you mean? Your friend blushes before dragging you to the corner. “I mean that last night Pierre and I went out for dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“Okay, okay, I caught on!”

Giggling, she shimmies her shoulders towards you. “What are you going to do?” You pout as you stare back blankly. She sighs. “I’m talking about you and Charles! I mean you both already won - you could do whateverrrr you want.”

Stuttering, you cough before saying, “You made it loud and clear, thank you very much.”

-

Shivering, you climb into the passenger's seat of his Pista as you thank him for opening and closing your door. As soon as he climbs in, he turns on the heater. The Monaco streets were lonely, everyone already in their homes, sheltering from the light rain that had picked up.

“You want to pull over?”

You sound so sweet asking that he almost thinks he’s hallucinating or that any second now you’re going to surprise him with a, just kidding!

But he quickly could tell you weren’t and he doesn’t want to let the moment slip away. Not when he’s been waiting for so long. Screw it if he lost.

Pulling over on the side of an isolated street, he hauls you onto his lap. You thank the universe for skirts. Pushing your panties aside, his long fingers slide against your wet folds. You let out a wail.

“Fuck, you don’t know how I’ve missed hearing you.” He slides two fingers in. “Feeling you.”

Dazed, you find yourself grinding on his fingers. Every single time they would brush against your g-spot, you would kiss him harder. He slips them out, bringing them up to his lips. 

And he moans in a way you’ve never heard before. So fucking sweet. Blushing, you lean in to kiss him. You can still taste yourself.

“Charles, please - do something.”

Never during your entire relationship has he ever fucked you as hard as he did that day. His grip on your waist hurt, but it hurt so good. His cock would continuously brush against where you needed him the most, so much so, he left you seeing stars. Drooling all over him, you hold onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down rapidly.

“So tight – So warm.” He chokes when you ground your hips deeper. “So fucking good.”

Then, he finishes inside of you. His fingers slide down to your clit as he rubs it. You finish with a loud cry. Kissing you one last time, he slaps your ass. You scowl playfully.

“Admit it - you’ve missed it, too.”

-

“Just a few more weeks and you would have won!” Pierre clicks his tongue before kicking his legs up against the table in front of him. Charles rolls his eyes.

“I’m never doing that again.”

Kika smacks the Frechman’s thigh. “You both lost, remember? Only, you did before him.” The Monegasque quickly springs up.

“You’re saying we won?”

“You’re acting as if this were the fucking Olympics, Cha.” You drag him by the arm to sit back down as he starts celebrating his ‘accomplishment of the year’.

“What are we clapping about?”

Your brother strolls over to an open seat as he opens up a water bottle. Hurriedly, you screech, “Nothing! Only that the season is almost over-”

“He’s yapping about how he won No Nut November, except, he didn’t. 2 weeks and fucking does not count.”

“You did what?”

Jumping up, Charles trips over his feet as he tries backing away from the angry Spaniard. “I think I forgot my phone! I’ll be right back!”

Chasing after him, your brother yells out, “That’s my baby sister, cabrón!”

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[saerins]

─── 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4k | content: angst, best friends to lovers to strangers type beat, i did not proof this besties

notes: lmao me , thinking i could get away from this man . guess who’s back with more sae ??? <3

summary: you’re the one sae can’t get over. he’s beginning to think he never will.

the freshly cooked bread is on the floor. it litters the nice marble tiles. the chit of paper with the order writes mr. rin hatoki.

“i'm tired of this, sae.”

sae doesn't say a word. he's listless, sitting on the kitchen table, staring at his own reflection on the glass, wondering where it all went wrong.

“why don't you love me anymore?”

it's weird. he can hear the sorrow. he can feel the pain. yet he feels nothing.

“what does she have that i don’t?”

maybe you're right. maybe he's an asshole. maybe this is his punishment.

the first time sae laid eyes on you, you were five and he was six.

he saw you playing with rin on the slides, and he remembers the way you smiled at him when rin told you sae was his older brother.

and even back then, even if it was a tiny crush based on superficial reasons like how sae liked your smile or your eyes or the way your hands felt on his when you locked hands and forced him to play with you and rin, he remembers you mocking rin and calling sae nii-chan.

sae remembers how he cringed inside because no. no no, he didn’t want you calling him that because that wasn’t what he wanted you to know him for. he didn’t know what he wanted exactly, but definitely not an older brother.

"itoshi-kun!"

“sae,” he corrected you, watching as you ran up to him on the field.

he loved the soft smile you wore on when you heard him. he especially loved the first time you said his name.

“sae.”

the first time he saw you cry, it was when you scraped your knee after some boys accidentally pushed you over.

you were nine.

sae scared them away afterwards.

you weren’t exactly sobbing—he found out you were funny like that, like you wanted to cry but didn’t want to let anyone see. but it was frustrating because sae wasn’t just anyone. or so he liked to think.

“get on,” sae told you, getting down on one knee with his back turned to you.

“what?” you sniffled, vision still blurry from your would-be tears.

sae craned his neck to look back at you, a faint smile on his face. “come on, i’ll carry you home.”

“i’m not weak, you know,” you argued, and sae would’ve told you to just accept his offer when he realised you already did, obediently climbing onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck.

it was a relatively silent walk back. sae could hear the rapid beating of your heart though.

maybe it was a tiny crush too. the kind that stuck with you for three years and four months and threatened to stick with you for the rest of your life.

“hey, sae?”

“hm?”

a pregnant pause. you held him tighter before ultimately loosening your grip.

“mm, nothing.”

sae really wanted to hear you. but he let it go.

it was torture, really—you were fifteen when you got your first boyfriend. some guy called oliver aiku. who looked way too old for you, by the way, but fine, if you said he was only a year older than sae, who was he to question you?

sae hated it, really. watching you at the swings, laughing along with him, watching oli feed you ice cream. and you said oliver was a good striker too? sae bet he was better.

what did he have that sae didn’t?

and sae thought he’d love to witness the day when the two of you broke up. but he never counted on the fact that you’d be a mess when your heart was broken.

you ignored sae and rin for a couple of weeks, choosing to stay isolated, refusing to see anyone. you weren’t even replying sae’s texts.

[17:34] hey y/n, pick up the phone, idiot.

[17:34] rin misses you.

okay so that last part was a lie, but it was fine, rin didn’t have to find out.

[17:35] hey sae. :)

[17:35] hmm… so you don’t miss me?

sae had to do a double take at your text. since when did you become this cheeky? he didn’t even know why he was suppressing a smile.

it took him less than a minute before he got up.

[17:36] maybe.

[17:37] be at your place in 10, let’s get ice cream.

funny how he wanted to replace all of oliver’s memories. sae wanted you to lick the ice cream that he was holding. sae wanted you to play on the swings with him. everything him, no other stupid boys who would make you cry, who didn’t deserve you.

that was exactly what sae did—asked you what you did with oliver. you’d answer him, and he’d do the exact same with you, and he’d rewrite all the memories you thought would be so hard to forget, the very same memories you thought would be impossible to replace. yet sae did it, replaced the bad with the good.

sae wasn’t a mind reader, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking as he got you ice cream and fed it to you, couldn’t tell if you liked how he walked with his arm around your shoulder. couldn’t tell if you knew what he was doing.

he wished that you knew how he felt—then that’d make one of you. because sae had no clue.

“hey, sae?”

“hm?”

he got deja vu there.

and this time, you continued.

“do you do this for other girls too?”

sae nearly choked on that question because no, he didn’t do nearly as much for other people in general. you were the only one he’d ever put this much effort to.

“no.”

he can still remember your little smile to this day. it was pretty, even prettier since it was because of him. it was like a silent knowledge you both shared—you didn’t want him to do that for other girls, and he didn’t want to share you with other boys.

simple, but complicated. complicated because you were both shit at feelings and shit at admitting but it was still beautiful, if only because neither of you ever strayed.

back then.

“what about a house?”

“i’ll buy you the nicest, cosiest one there is.”

“anywhere in the world?”

sae nodded. “anywhere you want.”

“i want to open a bakery one day. you gonna help me with that?”

“i’ll help you with anything you want.”

you giggled. “yeah? you and what money, sae?”

he rolled his eyes, resting his head against his palm, elbow propped up on your study table. “when i become the best soccer player in the world, genius.”

sae flicked your forehead gently, as he remembers he liked to, smiling softly when you winced in faux pain.

it’s funny how comfortable he felt talking about shit like that with you, only half-joking. it was an innocent conversation on how sae said he would be able to take care of you when you were both older. even if it wasn’t his place, even if he wasn’t even your boyfriend yet then.

“oh? so i’ll get the world’s best soccer player itoshi sae all to myself?”

it all sounded dreamy and attainable when you were both eighteen and sitting on cloud nine. when the both of you were dreamers with rose tinted glasses and honeyed tongues to match.

“is that a confession, y/n l/n?”

he remembers he caught you off guard. he knew because the way you behaved when you were flustered was already ingrained in his mind. the way you fumbled over your words, the way you couldn’t hold eye contact, the way you made him melt with how you seemed so vulnerable for a split second.

“what if it was?”

that was the first time you ever managed to render him speechless. only because of how honest you were being. only because sae wanted you to want him and you did and then he was reduced to some infatuated idiot.

“good, me too.”

and maybe that was his first mistake. when he didn’t make sure you knew he wanted you for more than just that moment, that he had wanted you for a long time coming.

maybe that was the first in line for the domino effect.

life hit hard and fast by the time sae made a name for himself as one of the best midfielders in the world. he opened his eyes and saw that japan was not for him—he wanted more for himself, for his career.

sae wanted to move. and at the time, he wanted to bring you with him.

“how’s spain?”

it was the usual call the two of you had—a routine set in place because sae found he’d miss you too much if he didn’t hear from you for a while. it sucked that he couldn’t bring you with him now, not when he wasn’t best yet and not when you had a degree to finish.

“great, i play in the official match tomorrow, starting eleven.”

mundane updates about each other’s lives. he’d tell you about his soccer trainings and you’d fill him in on school. but for sae, it wasn’t enough. so he took a leap of faith this time, he was sure what he wanted.

“hey, what if we moved out here next time?” sae asked, cutting you off.

you stuttered, flustered and overwhelmed. in hindsight, maybe asking you that sort of thing when the both of you weren’t even officially together was kind of a stretch.

but sae had been sure at that point of time.

“there’s a lot to consider, sae.”

it was that tricky line where you were both more than friends but less than lovers and sae knew that over the phone wasn’t the ideal place to do it but he didn’t want to drag it on any longer.

“i mean, we’re not even together and we’re both just still kids, and—”

“then be mine.”

“i- what?”

for the first time, he was thinking about the future. and it had to be with you. he couldn’t imagine it another way. and when you agreed to be his that day, when you agreed you’d consider it for the future, sae was happier than he let on.

for the first time, the future was a little clearer. become the best midfielder, find a good forward worthy of his passes, and when all that was done and dusted, he’d always come back to you at the end of the day.

sae had thought hard about it.

but evidently not hard enough.

reality hit like a truck.

because fast forward five years into the future and you had moved out to spain to be with sae, your future husband, the diamond ring nestled comfortably on your finger.

moving in with sae was fun, exciting. it was a new place, new continent, new start. sae was with you every step of the way, choosing the house, choosing the furniture. turned out, being one of the most in-demand soccer players paid way too well.

what sae never considered was the gravity of what he asked you to do—uproot your entire life to be with him. you were both still young and full of life and loved seeking thrills and you both failed to grasp what the consequences would be.

it was harder than you bargained; adjusting to the new country, learning a new language, making new friends and learning the culture. sae was a pivotal part of your support system, but sometimes he didn’t have a choice; he couldn’t be there for you a hundred percent. he had soccer, contracts to fulfil, people to please. you needed him more than you realised.

and when you moved in together, both of you saw sides to one another you never really saw before. like how you get frustrated when sae messes the entire bedroom up after you spent the entire day cleaning the mansion. or how sae shut down whenever he was having doubts about his team, his plays.

it was difficult. but it still worked.

for a while.

but arguments were getting more frequent. and sae forgot why he did this in the first place. maybe you should’ve spoken up more too, whenever something bothered you, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt this resentful.

you blamed sae for asking you to move out here. but it was what you wanted too.

it got to a point where there was an animosity between the both of you that you couldn’t handle. the type that made you sad because somehow sae turned into someone you didn’t even recognise.

“where’d you go last night?”

sae sighed, like you were a bother, but really you weren’t. he was just being a dick. it was never okay to just abandon your fiancé at home all because of a dumb fight which he couldn’t even remember by now.

“stayed over at the captain’s,” was all he told you. didn’t even bother explaining.

he wishes he did, then maybe you’d stop getting the idea that this relationship had hit a dead end.

“is that what we’re going to do now? just leave the other one alone, not talk when we fight?” you were soft, because you were tired. you’d been tired for a while.

you were tired. sae lost track of himself. everything was a mess and neither of you had the capability to handle it. sae was thinking maybe he made a mistake, and you were thinking it wasn’t too late to turn back. he couldn’t be bothered to remember how you got here in the first place, and he missed all the signs you gave him.

how you had stayed up late just to wait up for him whenever he had practice. how you agreed to be with him through everything and kept a smile on your face even when things were hard on you personally. how you cooked for two even when sae said he wouldn’t have time for dinners at home, just in case.

he’s sorry; you thought of him way too much, and he didn’t give you enough.

“sae, say something, please?” you were on the verge of tears, and he was on the verge of giving up.

sae knows what you wanted to hear now. but back then, he didn’t. he was too pressed on his own feelings that he just couldn’t find it in himself to think for you.

“what do you want me to say?”

you sat next to him on the couch, and he could hear you sniffling. he didn’t turn to look at you, didn’t ask about you, didn’t try to console you. for his own good. because he thought he knew where it was going, and it was better if he didn’t.

“sae… do you still want this?”

that was the first time he was unsure. because what he knew was that there was no one else for him. there was only you. he wanted only you, but everything turned out like this and he felt conflicted, tired.

he just wasn’t sure.

“i don’t know.”

but that was as good of an answer to you as any.

you’d watched him over the years. you’d tolerated all of his misgivings, you’d watched him train even when he was injured, even when you begged him to rest. you’d supported him throughout everything. you were everything to him, but at that moment, sae failed to tell you, and you couldn’t hold on to something that seemed so futile, something that was hanging on by a single thread.

something that might’ve snapped at any moment.

the next day, all sae woke up to was the engagement ring on his bedpost and your absence from his life.

it’s been another five years since then.

sae’s back in japan. for some reason.

no, not some. just one. just you.

to think that up until now, sae still thinks of you. you’re always there somehow, in his memories. when he scores a goal, he still instinctively looks for your face in the crowd. when people interview him and ask him about possible partners, his first thought is your name. when he goes on his socials, he looks for you first. it’s habit.

sae’s jealous, still. even after four years apart. he still loves you. he’s still stupid. he’s still too late.

you’re happy now, if your posts are any indication. you live with him too. sae sometimes wishes he was him. then maybe he’d get to feel you again, be around you, hover over you and annoy you to no end. maybe he’d get to hear you call his name again.

but that’s a long shot.

you’re about to be mrs mikage soon. reo’s a lucky guy, whoever the fuck he is. sae hates him, but it’s biased. he’s probably good to you. he helped you build that bakery you always wanted, after all.

the bakery sae always orders from under a fake name because he doesn’t know whether you hate him and he’d rather not risk it. it’s the only way he knows how to hold on to you, to still feel close to you.

so he’s mr. rin hatoki.

“tell me!”

his girlfriend’s voice is shrill, it brings him back to the present, to his current predicament. to the fact that he’s been trying to put you in the past, but he’s not able to. and she knows it, too. she’s not dumb.

she probably stalked you ever since she first started dating him. she probably knew all along that the breakfasts sae buys for her is his pathetic excuse to just support your business. she probably knew that from the start, she stood no chance against you.

“i beg you, sae,” she’s crying now, and sae feels bad for regressing to this state, to hurting other people but most of all, he feels bad for flat out wishing she was you. “just break my heart already if you’re going to do it.”

two years with her down the drain. because he can’t forget about you.

sae doesn’t even look up at her because he’s filled with the vision of you smiling in his head. that’s all he’s staring at.

she asked what you had that she didn’t. and sae only knows the one answer is his heart.

“you’ll never be her.”

sae stares at you from the driver’s seat. he’s parked on the opposite side of the road, it should be safely tucked away enough that you won’t notice.

you’re closing up. you look like an angel. you’re dawdling, slowly mopping up the floors, your hair so messy and you’re still so perfect.

he wants to go there, wants to run to you and hug you, wants to grip onto you and take back what he lost. but he of all people knows that’s impossible. so he stays in his driver’s seat, stays in his fantasies, stays away from you.

maybe he should just drive away. maybe he should stop pining for you. this is stupid.

especially stupid when he sees your future husband pull up and run up the sidewalk, runs into your arms, carries you and spins you around and presses a kiss onto your perfect nose.

sae can only vaguely make out what he’s saying.

“have a surprise for you at home, baby.”

and sae can’t tell what you said, but he can tell you love him by the slow, affectionate kiss you give him, the way you wrap your arms around his neck and laugh against each other’s lips.

“wait here for a bit, yeah?” reo tells you, and you nod, obedient.

it’s like a drug, now that he’s here, sae wants to stay and watch the show play out to the end. he watches as you store away your broom and mops and as reo walks back to his car—wait, no, fuck, he’s walking to sae’s car.

fuck fuck fuck.

reo makes sure you’re back in your bakery and out of view before he smiles at sae. “i’m very honoured that a world-class soccer player is stalking us,” reo beams at him the moment sae winds down his windows. “wanna go over there and talk to her?”

he definitely knows of your history with sae. it doesn’t bother him though, apparently. not if he’s offering sae the chance to talk to you, and alone, by the looks of it.

sae’s not really sure what he’s doing, taking reo up on his offer. he walks through the doors to your bakery and the shopkeeper’s bell rings, inciting you to spin around, expecting reo, but your eyes widen when you see sae there instead, sheepishly standing there, staring dumbly at you.

“sae,” you call his name, breathlessly. “w-what’re you doing here?”

“i… don’t know.”

he doesn’t. zero clue. fuck.

you’re not smiling, you’re apprehensive, you’re still in shock as to why itoshi sae didn’t contact you ever since you left him and why he chose now of all times to show up. there’s tears in the corners of your eyes and he knows you’re trying not to let them fall. the corners of your mouth try not to but they form a small frown.

“i just wanted to tell you…” sae trails off because he starts to remember everything.

he remembers five years old and you on the slides. he remembers your nii-chan and how he hated it. he remembers your smile and him being lovestruck and pathetic. he remembers making you happy and then making you sad, going from everything you loved to everything you grieved. he remembers all the signs he thought you didn’t give. he remembers your newly opened bakery and the heart on his first order chit. he remembers his now ex-girlfriend hating his guts and throwing your bread on the floor.

most of all, he remembers how happy you look with reo.

so sae swallows all the words he wanted to say and gives you a knowing smile. “just wanted to come by and wish you a happy marriage.”

i miss you. i still love you. i want you back. i want to be yours again. i promise i’ll love you properly this time.

he bites back all his words.

your expression turns soft and you smile at him for the first time in five years. “thanks, sae,” you tell him, holding your hand out.

sae shakes it, resisting his urge to pull you close.

“how are—”

“i have to go,” sae interjects, because he doesn’t think he can act any more normal than this. he wants to see more of you, but he forces himself to leave, and you understand anyway, you and your weak knees because as much as you’re over itoshi sae, your lover, you still miss itoshi sae, your best friend.

reo walks past him on the steps, noticing his rush. “hey, leaving already?”

sae doesn’t stop. “yeah.”

“look, y/n’s clueless but,” reo continues, raising his voice slightly as sae gets farther away. “thanks for all the support!”

sae stops short of his car, turning around to look at reo, who’s looking at you, cleaning up the last of your cash.

“what are you talking about?”

reo turns back to sae, hands in his pockets. “i wanted to thank mr rin hatoki personally so—” sae’s eyes grow wide at the mention of the name— “thank you.”

how does he even know?

“you know, she was so nervous when it first opened, thinking that nobody would buy anything,” reo tells him, and sae listens, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i wanted to be the first customer but apparently a mr rin hitoki beat me to it.”

reo sighs, noticing how sae’s eyes are now glued onto you.

“y/n’s the kindest person i’ve ever met,” reo continues, turning his back on sae. “if you want forgiveness, it’s always there for you.”

reo’s revelation and offer sticks with sae, but he shelves it in the corner of his mind. when he sees you, crescent eyes and all smiles, sae drives off.

it’s fine. knowing you’re happy is enough.

that’s a lie. it will never be enough for him, but he’ll just keep trying to convince himself. sae loves you, and he might just love you enough to let you go.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae angst #bllk angst #blue lock angst #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #sae angst #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

[babyleostuff]

the grudge | jeon wonwoo

based on "the grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo (would highly recommend listening to it while reading)

genre | angst word count | 2.1k

author's note | i'm in love with GUTS (but she also broke my heart with this album) -> PART 2

I have nightmares each week 'bout that Friday in May One phone call from you and my entire world was changed Trust that you betrayed, confusion that still lingers Took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers

“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”

These were the last words you heard from the love of your life. 

Over the phone. 

You were supposed to have a date that day. He just came home from his schedules overseas, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. To hug him. To kiss him.  

It was a perfectly sunny day, kids were running freely around their neighbourhoods, happy about the upcoming weekend, and you were just as happy as them, getting ready with a childlike smile, probably putting too much effort in your appearance - you even put on the dress he bought you for your birthday, just to see his pleased smile. 

The picnic basket you prepared stood ready at your kitchen counter, filled with Wonwoo’s favourtie snacks and the wine you’d always drink on your stay-at-home nights. You were in the middle of rummaging through your room to find a blanket, when you heard a familiar noise of your ringing phone. 

With a grin on your face and a beating heart, you almost ran to the kitchen, hoping to see Wonwoo’s picture on the screen. And you did. 

What you didn’t know was that that phone call would crush your entire world in seconds. 

“Hey, baby. Are you ready? I can pick you up if you want,” One could tell how happy and excited you were by your voice only. 

“About that,” you never heard his voice being so monotone and… cold. 

Something was wrong, and you couldn’t help the way your hands started to tremble in anticipation of what was about to happen. 

It took exactly two minutes for Wonwoo to turn your happy day to one of the worst in your life. The confusion as the line went silent clouded your mind, your brain simply didn’t want to let you believe in what you’d just heard. 

It was a joke, right? He’d call you in a second to laugh about how he lost a bet to Mingyu, and that it was just an unfunny joke. Right? 

But as you stood there, in the middle of your kitchen, with your phone tightly clutched in your hand, there were no calls, no messages. Nothing. 

Your gaze lingered on the basket, and now, when you looked at it, it almost mocked you - seemingly laughing at how pathetic you were. 

Just like that, Wonwoo took everything you loved and crushed it in between his fingers. 

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily?

The next few days felt like you were living in a daze. You’d wake up and the first thing you’d do was to reach to the other side of the bed, expecting a familiar body laying there, which you’d cuddle up to - like you did every morning. 

“Wonwoo, I’m cold,” you muttered, your mind still asleep. But as you touched the pillow placed next to you, the bubble popped and you were brought back to reality. 

The reality where Wonwoo wasn’t by your side. 

“Five more minutes baby,” those were the words you’d never hear again. That’s when the silent tears would start to fall, dropping onto the empty cold pillow, and the thought of why? Why did he leave? 

Every morning you’d spend on thinking how the hell did all of this happen? When did he become so unhappy to break up with you over a single phone call? Was he that miserable? 

But the more you tried to find an answer the more unclear it all became to you, was it really that easy for him to end things with you? And it all made you want to scream - scream out of pain, out of frustration, out of the powerlessness you felt. 

You tried to go about your day as usual because maybe finding a routine in your new reality would help you heal your broken heart, but with every step you took, your mind reminded you that the one thing you looked forward to the most was gone. When you thought you’d finally taken one step forward, your thoughts brought you three steps back. 

“Here baby, let me,” you laughed, taking the wooden spoon from Wonwoo before he’d burn the eggs completely. “I think I should stick to making breakfast, and you to giving me my reward kisses,” grinning at him as you took his place at the stove. 

“Yeah, I think that would be the best,” he smiled, placing a peck on your cheek, as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

Those mornings would never come back. 

The arguments that I've won against you in my head In the shower, in the car, and in the mirror before bed Yeah, I'm so tough when I'm alone, and I make you feel so guilty

“Would you stop acting like a child and tell me what’s wrong?” You can’t remember a time where you’d raise your voice at your boyfriend, but lately it felt like this was the only thing you were doing. Fighting. 

“You know I’m not the only one in the wrong here, so don’t act like a saint,” Wonwoo threw back, acting as annoyed as you. The situation was getting out of hand, but neither of you did anything to stop it, if anything, you only added more fuel to the fire. 

“I’m trying my best, Wonwoo. I never complain when you leave for tours or schedules, or when you come home at night, when you don’t even have the energy to say good night.” 

“You know that that’s not the only issue here, baby,” the endearment felt like poison coming out of his mouth like that. It hurt you more than anything else. 

“It’s not, but it seems like I’m the only one trying here. Do you really want to act like a dick and let our whole relationship go to waste just because you can’t get your shit together?”

That was probably how things would have gone if you had the chance to talk to him. But you didn’t. Wonwoo didn’t try to contact you again, not even through a message or a friend. 

“What did you expect though?” You thought to yourself. He broke up with you over the fucking phone, something you’d never expect to happen with him. 

You’d spend endless nights in the shower picturing how you would have screamed at him, finally letting out how hard it was for you too - how hard it was to fall asleep in a cold bed, how painful was it to see him only over the phone, how all of the unread text messages because he was too busy to read them broke your heart - you’d do all of that just to make him feel guilty, even a little bit. 

You felt like you could do anything under the hot steam of water, but the second you entered your bedroom all of your toughness faded away, and you were left alone in the room that held so many, now painful, memories. 

I try to be tough, I try to be mean But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine

It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss him. Every ounce of your soul and body craved for his touch, begged for a second of time to see even a small bit of his perfect face, crying out to be held by his strong arms. 

And it didn’t help that everything at home reminded you of him, bringing back the beautifully painful memories of all of the times you’d spend together. 

All of his clothes that he never came back for were still in your closet - the hoodies that would keep you warm on cold December nights, when you’d cuddle under a blanket together to watch a movie, his favourite snacks in your cabinet, that he’d always munch on while gaming, the books on your nightstand, which he would read to you on sleepless nights, his gentle voice unburdening you from all of your worries. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to throw those stuff away. No matter how much looking at them hurt, you knew the second you’d throw them away you would break only more. 

You used to get so annoyed by the music that played in the background, as Wonwoo played Animal Crossing, staring at the small screen for hours, doing anything but focusing on you. Now you missed the goddamn sound, and you'd kill to have him next to you on your bed occupied by the cute animation of the game. 

You started to regret all of the times when you tried to persuade him to turn it off and do something with you instead, because yes, he didn’t pay direct attention to you, but he always had an arm thrown over your shoulder or one of his hands on your thigh, and he looked so adorable whenever he’d laugh. 

How pathetic would you be if you bought the game for yourself now? 

You realised that a lot of things that used to annoy you, you were missing now. Like his glasses that would always magically disappear. Wonwoo always forgot where he last placed them, and for some reason you’d always know where they were.

“What would you do without me, hm?” you laughed at his scrunched nose, as you placed his missing glasses on his nose, kissing it lightly. 

“I don’t know. Good thing I’ll have you forever then.” 

This felt like a dream now, like a distant memory that would never come back. 

Because it wouldn’t. 

As you sat down on the sofa under the blanket you used to share, you hesitantly, with a shaky finger clicked on the gallery app, opening another memory lane you weren’t sure you wanted to go down through.

As you scrolled through the album you made specifically for Wonwoo, past all of those months together, you couldn’t help but let out a broken cry. All of your dates, trips, family gatherings, parties - they were all there frozen in the photos, and every single one of them felt like an ice cold dagger to your heart, piercing it with a pain you’d never be able to describe. 

You looked so happy. Wonwoo looked so happy. 

You stopped at a picture that you could clearly remember taking. It was right after he came back from the States and you had one of your first dates after a while of being apart. 

Almost like that Friday in May when he left you. 

You decided to stay at home, to let him rest and get used to the time change, so you chose to play some video games that you always sucked at, but played nonetheless, because you knew how happy they made Wonwoo. You lost for the hundredth time and you couldn’t help but let out a whine out of frustration. 

“Are you happy? I lost again, this sucks!” you whined, throwing the controller on the table, before burying yourself in the blanket. 

“You almost had it baby, I promise you’ll win the next round,” he laughed, and reached for you under the blankets, caressing your back. 

“Mhm, sure,” you murmured angrily. You knew Wonwoo was smiling, and you were sure he was amused by your sulky behaviour, but that always meant one thing. 

“Will you feel better if I give you some kisses?” he asked, and giggled at the way your head immediately peaked up from under the blanket. “Yes, that will work, thank you very much.” 

But instead of leaning in as you anticipated, he lunged his body at you, caging you in a tight embrace of his strong arms and wide shoulders. At this point you both were a laughing mess, so you quickly reached for your phone and opened the camera. 

You stared at the photo now, with tears in your eyes and an empty heart. The way you were both smiling, so genuinely happy, made your heart clench with pain. His dark hair, that grew out enough to curl a bit at the ends, his glasses that slid down his nose, and his smile that you could stare at for days. 

You’ve lost all of it. 

It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet

You were sure that some day, in a distant future, you’d be able to forgive him, to look him straight in the eye and say “it’s okay, I forgive you.” and move on with a smile on your face. 

But you were not there yet. 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin

#seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #svt reactions #seventeen kpop #seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen carat #seventeen angst #svt angst #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #seventeen reaction #seventeen fic

[sunnyskiesscareme]

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Jack and Y/n meet in French class, and Y/n quickly finds out how fond she is of her annoying classmate

Warnings: a bit of angst, mostly fluff

Notes: this is my first fic! Please be nice lol. This was poorly and quickly proofread

“You are asking to leave, again? You got back to class 2 minutes ago!” Her teacher scolded.

Usually, Y/n’d roll her eyes at one of Jack’s many interruptions. She didn’t want to be in French class any longer than the rest of their classmates, and Mrs. David had started to keep the class in during break for one minute each time she was interrupted. At least this time she’d have a few extra seconds to scribble down the rest of her notes.

“But Mrs. D!” Jack started, a sudden urgency in his eyes, “Water is a basic human need! I’ll be back in 3 minutes, tops.”

“And somehow, Mr. Hughes, I don’t believe you.”

“Why? You can trust me, Mrs. D.” He wrapped his arm around his friend Trevor, who sat beside him, clearly amused. “You can have Trevor escort me!”

The teacher hummed, tapping her index pointer against her lip, as if she were considering it. “Y’know, that isn’t such a bad idea!”

Both Jack and Trevor’s eyes widened in surprise.

“But I won’t send Trevor.” Jacks smile fell just as fast as it rose. “I think… Y/n would be good for that job.”

Y/n’s eyes snapped up and away from her paper at her name, glancing behind her at the boy who stared right back. She sent her teacher a pleading look, her eyes wide and head slightly shaking.

“Uh, are you sure? She seems to like this class. She should stay.” Jack said, and Y/n shot him an annoyed glare.

“Just the reason to rush you right back! Go on.” Mrs. David ordered, and Y/n stood from her seat with a sigh. She stood at the door, watching as Jack smacked Trevor across the back of his head for something he’d whispered in his ear. Y/n didnt know they knew how to whisper.

She let Jack lead her, not believing that he’d actually left to get water from the fountain, but not a snitch. She was almost surprised when he did end up walking to the fountain, and she leaned against the wall and checked the time. She furrowed her eyes when he immediately started to walk back to class.

“Where are you going?”

He stared at her. “Narnia.”

She hummed, scrunching her nose at him in annoyance. “You said three minutes. We still have two.”

Jack looked at the clock she pointed at, and then back to her. “You don’t wanna get back to class and finish the love note your writing to Mrs. D?” He mocked.

“What?” She scoffed. “You really think I want to spend my lunch hour in French class because two idiots think they’re funny? I want to be there less than you do, I bet. At least you have your friend.”

“Please! You are Mrs. D’s friend. You’re probably the only one in that class who actually does the work.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry that the teacher likes me more than you.” She crossed her arms. “Plus, won’t you get kicked off of your hockey team if you don’t do the work?”

He paused, squinting his eyes at her. “How do you know I play hockey?”

Y/n stared at him, checking his pupils in case he were concussed. Who didn’t know Jack Hughes played hockey? “Look at yourself.” She said, and almost apologized for it sounding so mean.

Jack actually did look at himself, looking down at his clothes and his hands. He immediately whipped his head back up, as if he hadn’t meant to actually look in the first place. “What?”

“I mean,” she waved her hand up and down at him, “look, listen.”

“Are you trying to be mean right now?”

“No!” She insisted, genuinely. “Really! Put your hat on your head. Talk like a normal person!”

“You are being mean!” He stressed. “What’s wrong with my hat?”

She sighed. “Nothings wrong with your hat. I’m sorry. Just… actually wear it. All you hockey boys just, just put it on your hair. Put it on your head.” She reached out and tapped the top of his hat so it hugged his head comfortably, wiping away a stray lock of brown hair that poked out of it. “Now it won’t fall off every time you move, and you don’t look like a douchebag.”

Y/n finally began to walk back to class as Jack looked at his reflection in the window of an empty classroom. He caught up to her, quickly. “What’s wrong with how I talk?”

“Listen, stop calling girls ‘smoke-shows’ and ‘puck bunnies’ and I promise you’ll get more of them.”

“Hey! I get plenty.”

“Okay.” She put her hands up. “None of my business anyways. Be a douchebag whenever you want, just not in this class. I don’t really want walking you to the water fountain to become a daily thing.” She sighed.

—

Jack was quieter for the rest of class, even hissing a ‘shut up!’ to Trevor sometime during it. All he could think about was the girl who put his hat on his head properly and pushed the hair out of his face. He hoped she didn’t see the blush that burned on his cheeks. He hoped she didn’t really hate him, either.

Jack wouldn’t have been able to count every time his older brother, Quinn, made fun of the way he wore his baseball cap even if he tried. Still, he never listened until now.

Jack had bragged to Quinn that despite being younger, he was the stud of the family. He’d relish in the attention he got and in the pretty giggles he’d receive if he smiled at a girl in the hall. He told a girl once that he preferred it when she wore her hair down, and to this day, he hadn’t seen her put it back up.

Y/n was different. Some days he wished she sat the other way, so he could see her much-too-pretty face during class instead of just the back of her head. Still, he assumed it was for the best, for if he could see her, his ego would probably be blown by the many eye rolls and head shakes she preformed because of him.

He had never called Y/n a ‘smoke-show’, even though he probably would have if she didn’t seem so unimpressed with his very existence. Why would she mention that? He had never called her a puck-bunny. In fact, he had never once seen her at a hockey game. Why?

Jack tried to fool himself into thinking she had just been jealous that he never called her any of those names, but he was kidding himself. He took out his phone and texted a girl who had asked for his number a while ago. Maybe she’d pet his ego. That’s what girls usually did.

It was proven true. Pretty compliments filled his screen and to each one he sent a heart emoji back. He went to bed feeling worse than he did before.

—

Her knee was starting to hurt from holding it up so it wouldn’t touch his. The table was too small for two people to sit at, yet here they were, half of the tables empty as Mrs. David put each student into a pair. Y/n had gotten a warning that she’d be with Jack beforehand, and a peppermint candy as a thank you, for Jack had been far less disruptive since their walk. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t listen to the instructions her teacher was spouting when Jack was beside her, looking at her. Why was he looking at her?

He fiddled with his chain necklace as he did so, completely oblivious to the fact that she could see him out of the corner of her eye. How could she act so normal around him? How could she look so pretty? How could she be so smart and do so well in a class she hated?

God, she hated French class.

She fiddled with the corner of her paper, pinching and curling the corner and immediately scolding herself afterwards for ruining what was once so pristine. She tapped her fingers on the table, distracting thuds coming from underneath them. Quickly, she ripped that corner off, and put her pencil to work.

She didn’t need to pass him the note, for she knew he was peeking over her shoulder anyways.

Sorry for being mean. I like your hat better this way but coulda been nicer

Jack grinned.

-

Jack didn’t need to invite her to his house. He knew that. All that was required from the pair was a performance of them talking to each other in French, pretending to meet each other for the first time. He invited her over anyway, and she accepted.

If he asked, she’d tell him that she’d only accepted because he said she could stay over for dinner, or so she could see his hot older brother. She’d never tell him she accepted because she wanted to spend time with him. See where the jack Hughes slept, where he got dressed, where he ate breakfast.

That would be embarrassing.

#jack hughes x reader #nhl players #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes #quin hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #sunnyspouts

[mitch-the-silly]

Hi I’m new to your blog so I apologize if I requested anything wrong in this ask

Could I request a vox x reader where reader comes crying to vox and as he is trying to comfort her someone walks in which makes him switch up to kind and soft to mean and unfair towards reader at one point even pointing out her insecuritys on accident which makes reader cry more and kinda distance herself from him. How would vox feel and comfort ready after this?

Thanks and have An amazing day!

No no, it's ok! You'll find that I LOVE writing angst. It's honestly my area of expertise. And I LOVED this idea so much that when I was looking through my asks just now, I was like "Eh, lemme go to sleep" but I saw your ask and knew I could afford to sleep a bit later!

Anyway, mean Vox is very much real to me (mayhaps even canon)-

For extra angst, The one to walk in will be Valentino and some other Overlords (but mainly Valentino because I hate his goofy, bald ass).

Vox x fem!reader

Angst!!!

Warnings: Valentino (EWWWW)

"Roses are Made of Thons"

You felt distressed, only one person in this world could console you and you knew it. So you ran to his office and buried yourself in his chest. Your lover, Vox, held you close to him. He was caressing your face with gentle care. He was always so gentle and loving with you, so when he asked you what was wrong and you told him about your sorrows, you confided he’d keep to himself and help you.

“I… I tried my best, and I think I still look terrible! I mean, look at me… I just…” You sniffled, hiccupping from how desperate you were.

“Hey… hey… what did we say? I love you just the way you are. I think you’re cute, you don’t need to try to look good when you already look good.” He spoke, kissing your cheek.

“Really? Are you sure…? I just… I see all the models in your shows… and… I just…” You mumbled, tears threatening to stream down again.

“It’s just a show. And it's meant to appease those dirty fuckers who look like ugly fucking losers with absolutely zero contact with women. It’s not based on my standards…” He reassured you, kissing you again.

However, this would soon be gone, because the door to his office opened without a previous announcement, and storming in came Valentino along with some other overlords. “Ugh, Vox, I need you to settle something- Oh. Are you getting taken care of by your little putita?~” Valentino cooed at him, making fun of your relationship.

You knew he had a thing for Vox, and were very much aware he was salty that Vox had decided to be loyal to you. So it was obvious Valentino hated your guts despite you not really interacting with him.

“It’s nothing important, what do you need?” He smiled, wiping your tears and placing you on his lap. He held your head to his chest, trying to hide your lack of composure.

“Well, look, I had a few drug deals with these two, and I thought you’d paid them but- Vox… why is she moving like that?” Valentino paused, lowering his sunglasses and squinting at you attempting to see better.

“I already told you it was nothing. Are you gonna speak or not?” Vox scoffed, nudging you to stop it.

“She’s distracting me, Vox. Control your bitches or I’ll teach her how I control mine.” Valentino huffed, lighting his cigarette and rolling his eyes.

“Y/n, stop crying, I’m busy right now, go and cry somewhere else please.” Vox spoke, turning towards you, and pushing you off his lap. You tried to wipe your tears, but they kept rolling down your cheek.

Was this really what he was acting like right now? “V-vox but…”

“What is she even bitching about anyway? I bet it’s that outfit she had on. It’s not doing her any favors. I’d cry too if I was in that rag.” Valentino joked cruelly, the other overlords laughed… Vox did too.

“She’s just crying over her not looking good, cut her some slack!” Vox chuckled, and then he turned towards you. “Come on, I’ll get back to you once I’m done with this. Meet me in my room, sweetie.” Vox spoke casually, dismissing you completely.

You couldn’t believe it… he was just shoving you to the side. Giving you the cold shoulder over Valentino and the other overlords… He was making fun of you and even told them the one thing you told him not to say.

You felt hot tears roll down your cheek, and you ran out of the room. Ignoring Vox’s request to wait for him in his room. Matter of fact, you stayed in your own room for a couple of days, sulking, desiring to never see him again after what he’d done to you. You could hear him knock at your door, and try to make amends, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to open the door.

After a few days, you finally decided to come out of your room. Vox had been watching your hallway’s cameras for the past few days, and the second he spotted you out, he zapped to where you were.

“Y/n! Please! Can we talk?” He asked as you turned away form him, still mad at him.

“Please, I know I acted like an asshole, but… I just… If I showed them a soft side they weren’t gonna take me seriously! My whole business is a fake image of myself! If I don't uphold it, I'm fucked! My whole empire falls apart!” He cried out, almost groveling at your feet.

“You… you didn't have to tell them that about me… what I was insecure about…” You mumbled, tears threatening to creep in again.

“I know! And… I… I’m sorry, I was a fucking idiot and I was just feeding Valentino’s little games. I’m way too used to it, but I… I need to work on it, just please… Please don’t leave me! I fucked up, ok? I’m human, please don’t leave me over something I regret doing!” He pleaded, walking closer to you and taking your hand. Begging you for forgiveness.

“I… I need a bit more time… but… I accept your apology…” You mumbled, looking away. “Don’t do that again…”

“I won’t, I promise! I’ll give you your time, just… please don’t cut me off… The days you didn't talk to me were miserable… Please… I can’t live without you…” He begged.

“I heard you the first time… I’ll text you, don’t worry…” You mumbled back, reentering your room.

It was sort of a win for Vox, but he’d gotten too carried away. He’d already made sure to cuss out Valentino for his behavior. But he really had to get his life together. He just knew that if he pulled another one like this, he’d lose her.

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #vox header #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox angst #vox x reader angst #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin angst #vox is just so bbg i swear #man-child vox is so real #man-child vox #valentino #valentino hate #valentino hazbin hotel

[scarasbaefy]

when they lie

he lies, not knowing you already know the truth.

chars; kazuha, wanderer/scaramouche

; mentions of cheating, f.reader but can be read as g.neutral, not proof-read

note; DOING SOMETHING NEW!!!!! REQUESTS R OPEN BTW!!!!

;join taglist

Ⰶ

.kaedehara kazuha

“i’m so sorry, y/n. i wish i wasn’t the one telling you this, but i wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if i didn’t say anything. i’m extremely disappointed in his actions.” beidou said with a sorrowful look on her face.

she had explained to you moments prior about what she had seen on the deck of the ship while everyone was unloading cargo. kazuha had been kissing another passengers cheek as they held each other lovingly.

“i need to talk to him. thank you, beidou. i know you would never lie to me about something like this, but i have to hear from him myself.” you told the captain before heading to the location kazuha had told you he’d be at.

you arrived at the top of the hill. kazuhas back was facing you, but he turned to face you once he heard you approaching.

“i knew it was you,” he said with a smile, “my love, i’ve missed resting on land with you. come sit with me. the air feels lovely.”

“kazuha…” you ignored his request, “i feel as if something is wrong. is there someone else thats taking your attention? perhaps someone you’ve grown to like better than me?”

kazuha softly gasped, taking a step back before collecting his composure. he didn’t think there was any way you’d find out about him cheating. he loves you— but he loves this other woman as well. he had taken great precautions to make sure no one knew anything.

“of course not, darling,” your heart sank at his words. you didn’t know he was capable of lying. especially to your face. although you looked like you were going to be sick, he continued, “why would you even ask a silly question like that? you know i’d never do something like that to you. i love you and only you.”

“beidou told me everything.”

this time, his heart sank.

scaramouche

scaramouche is big on betrayals. he’s the last person who would commit such an act on you. or so you thought.

you and nahida were secretly looking out for scaramouche as he had left sumeru city to join a research team on their exploration. it’s something nahida had persuaded him to do so he wouldn’t be cooped up doing nothing.

the two of you giggled as you watched your boyfriend walk along the river, unknowing of yours and the archons presence. the laughter immediately came to a halt when nahidas eyes widened, a look of horror replacing what was once happiness. you followed the direction of her eyes, your smile dropping as you saw scaramouche greet another wanderer with a passionate kiss.

nahida was quick to release the spell on your out of body experience. tears flooded both yours and her eyes as the realisation started kicking in. who was that other person? why did neither you or nahida know a thing about this? did he really keep this under the radar to the point neither one of you grew a single speck of suspicion? a million questions flooded your brain, but nahida was there to comfort you.

the day scaramouche returned, you were ready to confront him. though, nahida had convinced you to put him to a test. would he lie to you or would he confess everything and be honest?

“hey, i’m back.” scaramouche hugged and kissed your forehead, “did you miss me? you better have. i missed you while i was away from you, so it’s only fair that you missed me as well.”

when you didn’t respond or reciprocate affection, he knew something was wrong. you bit your lip, contemplating on how to ask him about everything. your trust on his honesty wearing thin the more you would think about it.

“i doubt you missed me!” you faked a playful smile. “i bet you were out kissing other people or getting another girlfriend or something.” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you.

he laughed at your words as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “as if. you’re the only person i need. everyone else… i can’t trust.”

it was your turn to laugh. “don’t amuse me. you? can’t trust anyone else? i should be the one who can’t trust anyone. including you.”

scaramouche looked confused, so nahida cleared up his confusion by replaying his memory of the stranger over and over.

“you’re such a hypocrite.”

taglist;  @ulquiorraswife @yevurin @lovingveliona​ @i-luvyuu​  @x-aloeveraa-x  @mf-619lans

#genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #gi #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x you #kazuha x you #angst #fanfic #genshin fanfic

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 1 Part 3

It was an easy decision, proposing to Steve. Party because Eddie has been daydreaming about it since they got together, but mostly because he knew there was no way Steve would say no.

No, when a guy almost dies for you twice, chooses to move into a shitty apartment with you vs maintain financial security with his rich parents, and literally says he wants to be with you forever, it's a pretty safe bet that he's not going to say no to the idea of marriage.

All Eddie needed to do was get a ring. Easy.

Except it was anything but.

At the rate he was going, the proposal was never going to happen. He had gone through four jewelry stores in a span of three days, and he hadn’t found shit. They were all…wrong. Either too big and fancy, or too plain and generic. Nothing that Eddie could see his Steve wearing everyday.

In general, Steve just wasn’t a jewelry kind of guy. The one time he tried out Eddie’s rings for fun, he hated them. He was too hands on for anything clunky, and it was actually impressive how often he got them caught on his clothes in a twenty-four hour period.

But the simple bands weren’t right either. Maybe Eddie was just an obsessive sap, but…they weren’t special enough for someone as wonderful as Steve, and Eddie was running out of ideas.

So he called who he always did when he was stuck. He picked up on the third ring, and Eddie went straight into it, “Waaaaayne, I need help. And I needed it like yesterday.”

Wayne chuckled on the other end, the sound automatically bringing a smile to Eddie’s face, “What have you done now?”

“I’m in ring hell. I’m trying to ask Steve to marry me but-”

“Don’t tell me you already bought one.” Wayne interrupted, voice stern, “Did you?”

Eddie frowned, confused. He didn’t…he didn’t think Wayne would disapprove, not after all this time. Eddie swallowed, trying to hide the hurt in his voice, “Why Wayne, is that disapproval I hear? And no, I haven’t bought anything yet.”

Wayne sighed, catching onto it anyway, “Son, I don’t give a shit about what you two decide to do. If anything, you should have locked him down years ago.”

The knot in his stomach instantly disappeared, Eddie grinned, relieved, “Okay, first of all, rude. Second, if you don’t care, why shouldn't I buy a ring?”

“Because I have one already.”

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the phone, “Huh?”

“Eddie, I know you, and I know Steve. I knew this day was coming and…I’ve been ready for it. It was my grandmother’s, but it’s from the 30s so don’t worry. It’s not too flowerly or anything like that.”

Jesus, Eddie was tearing up. He hadn’t expected that. It’s not like Wayne had ever had a problem with their relationship, he was beyond supportive. But Eddie hadn’t realized just how deep that support went, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything. I’ll send it to you and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But I think he’d like it.”

Eddie nodded, forgetting that Wayne couldn’t see him,“Y-yeah, sounds good. Sounds perfect.”

“Good, I’ll send it tonight. And you’ll tell me how it all turns out after, right?”

“Of course. And um, hey Wayne?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you man.”

He couldn’t see it, but Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “I love you too kiddo.”

Eddie hung the phone up on the high, nervously excited to see thing. He watched the mail like a hawke for the next week, grateful that Steve was out when it finally arrived. He tore into the small package, like a kid on Christmas morning. Rose gold and engraved, and already re-sized. Wayne really had thought of everything.

It was the exact kind of ring that Eddie hadn’t been able to find anywhere. Pretty but subtle, perfect for his Steve. He loved it, and he was almost sure Steve would love it too. And he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, because he was going to do it the second he saw him.

Eddie didn’t care if it was corny, he was going to be on one knee the moment Steve opened the door. He sat infront of it, his stomach doing flips as he waited. There was really no reason to be nervous, Steve couldn’t have made it clearer that he was going to get a yes, but he still was.

Steve just had that effect on him.

An hour later, the tell-tale sound of keys in the door hit him. He scrambled into position, heart racing, as he waited, stuck between being intensely excited and vaguely wanting to throw up.

“I’m home- what are you doing?” Steve stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the sight of Eddie kneeling on the floor, ring in hand.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie laughed, nervous as he watched the emotions flash across his face. He had a hand over his mouth, eyes sparkling as he looked down at Eddie, waiting for him to continue.

Words, right. He had those. Eddie took a deep breath, shaking himself out of his staring to speak,

"Stevie, you are my whole world. And I don’t go a day without thanking the universe for letting you in my life, because you made it complete. I…I never thought I would ever be as happy as you make me. You were my first love. And I want- no, I need you to be my last because there is no one else in this world that I want to be with. So…baby will you marry me?”

Eddie should have seen it coming, but that didn’t stop the surprised oomf he made when Steve tackled him to the ground. The next thing he knew he was being kissed all over his face, a manically thrilled Steve on top of him.

He grinned down at him, happy tears already falling, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #pg versions from that one fic #adjusted into oneshots #kinda #uncle wayne #number one ally #im so obsessed with fluff im basically a pillow at this point

[barbarianprncess]

annabeth chase and her many losing dogs: an (incomplete) anthology

read on ao3

or

chapter one: a (brief) introduction to the game and it's players

She gives Cerberus her red rubber ball.

Because he’s a monster, but she doesn’t think he means to be.

Because he’s a lonely dog and she is lonely the same way. The kind that doesn’t know how lonely it is until a person shows up and reminds them. The kind that wishes to just be left in loneliness long enough for companionship to be forgotten altogether.

The ball will make him happy. He will destroy it within minutes, it will disappear after he does nothing but be himself.

(She does that sometimes too.)

First Round: Frederick Chase

Bet Type: Blind Faith; awarded via mass tradition.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

Annabeth is four years old and hungry. 

She hasn’t eaten since dinner last night. 

Dad is playing with his planes again. The fancy small piece ones that Annabeth is not allowed to touch, ‘not now, not ever.’ She’s not supposed to bother Dad when he plays with his planes. 

Plane time is Dad’s very special ‘by himself’ time. He’d explained a while ago that he has lots of very hard work to do, and then he has to take care of her which is even more lots of hard work,  and sometimes he needs his special ‘by himself’ time, because Annabeth is a big girl now who can read her books and not touch the sockets. 

(She wonders why he doesn’t do his special ‘by himself’ time when she’s taking her naps. That way they could have their together time when she’s awake.)

This would be fine, but she just ate the last of her super secret dad-is-in-his-study snack stash that she hides under her bed last week. 

She wants to go in and ask, but the last time she’d interrupted him, even though he smiled at her, his eyebrows got all scrunched up together. He was not happy to see her.

(Sometimes, she wonders if he ever is.)

Annabeth is really very hungry.

There are bananas on top of the fridge.

Annabeth creates a plan. 

The plan goes south almost immediately and she ends up dangling from the top of the white mountain with glass and bananas all over the ground. 

“Christ! Annabeth!” She is being yanked from her very small cliff and carried into the living room and Dad’s voice is very loud and his face is more than scrunched eyebrows and Annabeth is ashamed.

“What were you doing?”

“I was climbing on top of the fridge. I knocked over a vase.” 

That was the wrong answer because somehow his face gets even angrier. “Yes, I can see that. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted a banana. They were on top of the fridge.” 

He pinches his nose. That wasn’t the right answer either. “You just had breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You had the fruit circles.”

“That was yesterday.”

He hesitates. “Okay, well you did wake up late, you couldn’t have waited until it was time to eat lunch?”

The clock on the microwave says 4:13 pm. “It is lunch.” 

He looks at the clock. Closes his eyes. When he opens them, he still looks angry but not at her. His voice is much quieter. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“Last time you got sad. You were in a groove, you said unless it was an emergency not to come in. I thought I could reach it.”

She watches his face change. His eyebrows are still scrunched up but his eyes get gentler and sadder all at once. He sits down on the couch and lifts her up into his lap. It’s been so long, she sits on his knees like he’s a chair. He turns her around in his arms. 

“You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth. Sometimes I forget you're here.”

She doesn’t think he said it to make her sad, but it does anyway. Which is irritating because she didn’t do anything wrong and she feels bad anyway. 

“I was a quiet kid too.”

She doesn’t want to be quiet. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to hit him. She wants—

“I’m gonna clean up the glass and then we’ll have mac and cheese.”

She nods and lets herself be sat back on the couch.

Second Round: Ms. Helen (from Dad’s work)

Bet Type: Good Faith; awarded via proxy.

Made with no experience. 

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned. 

The first time her father forgets to pick her up from daycare, she is too young to remember. She was also too young to remember the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th times. 

She remembers the sixth.

Ms. Helen, dad’s work friend that has come to dinner  every wednesday for four weeks, shows up at school wearing black yoga pants and a messy-on-purpose bun.

(The kind that always looks strange in the bathroom mirror when she tries it on her curls in the morning before they leave.)

She smiles at her teacher, tight and pinchy. She does that laugh/talk/sigh thing adults do when the words they're saying don’t really matter. And before Annabeth knows it, she's staring at the backseat of a minivan.

“What’s that?”

Ms. Helen raises an eyebrow. “The car seat?”

Annabeth nods but looks down. She said it like it was obvious. Annabeth knows obvious things.

“Don’t you sit in one of  these to come to daycare?” 

“No.”

“You just sit in the seat?”

“Yes.”

“You're too little. It’s not safe to sit by yourself.”

Annabeth doesn’t know what she's supposed to say. This happens a lot. Adults do this thing where they ask you a question that they want a specific answer to. Annabeth has developed a skill in which she can always tell when the truth is not what an adult wants to hear. It has, so far, been a pretty useless skill because she has yet to master the skill of knowing what it is that they actually want to hear. 

(Sometimes, she figures it out and tells the truth anyway. Those times she doesn’t really mind getting in trouble after.)

“Your father must’ve put you in one of these.”

Annabeth shrugs. Her talent has deduced that Helen does not want Annabeth to say that she has never been in one of those, and figures nonverbal is the safest option because she would like to go home.

Helen crouches down and gets way up close to Annabeth's face. Her grown-up face-paint is smudged around the corner of her left eye. She smells like dish soap. 

“I borrowed this from my friend when your father called, so we have to get you your own. From now on, you don’t get in a car without one of these. Understand?”  

Annabeth nods.

Helen is looking at her with something strange and sad in her smudged up eye. She takes a deep breath.

Annabeth crawls into the backseat and waits to be tied in.

Fourth Round: Thalia Grace, Grover Underwood & Luke Castellan

Bet Type: Calculated Risk; awarded to an individual after carefully evaluated outcomes

Made after a great loss, in which perceived benefits outweigh potential detriment. 

Trust earned after a win. 

Thalia is frowning at her. 

Annabeth hasn’t been with her and Luke for that long, but she knows that this is not cause for too much concern because she’s usually frowning. 

Luke is the one with the smiles, and the cuddles, and the soft spot for the helpless strays—dogs and girls alike.

Thalia is the one with the frowns. 

(Annabeth can tell she has a soft spot for Luke though.)

Before she can muster up the courage to ask, Luke beats her to it. “What’s up with you?”

“Her hair.” Thalia has a talent where she can frown and speak at the same time. Annabeth wants to learn how to do that.

Luke smiles at her before fixing his eyes on her puff. She gets that feeling in her stomach she used to get when her teachers asked her questions about her house, like she should be hiding behind her fathers legs. 

(The last time she tried, Helen had snatched her arm and told her she was being rude.)

“Her hair.” He repeats in a way that tells both Annabeth and Thalia he has no idea what the problem is.

Thalia ignores him, and scribbles something down on his arm. “I saw a beauty supply store down the road. I need you to figure out a way to get this stuff.”

Luke frowns over her shoulder. (Uh-oh.) “That’s gonna be a bit of a stretch.”

“So stretch.”

“Thals—,”

She looks up at him and her eyes are all intense like when she’s fighting a monster. “They weren’t combing her hair. I took the hair tie off and it’s staying put. She’s only been on the run for 3 days.” Thalia looks back down at her. “Right? That’s how long you were by yourself?”

“Yes.” Annabeth nods. One of her favorite parts about being with Luke and Thalia, is that the truth is always enough.

Thalia looks back at Luke with something in her eyes that’s even softer than when Luke sleeps. “They weren’t combing her hair.”

Luke nods, a new kind of frown. The one he had when they found her. “On it.”

He winks at Annabeth and tweaks her nose which makes her laugh. Then he’s gone and it’s just the two of them. 

Annabeth and Thalia have never been alone for that long before, except for bathroom trips and when Luke gets them snacks.

Annabeth knows it wasn’t Thalia’s idea for her to join the two of them. Annabeth doesn’t think she wanted to leave her there, but she knows Thalia liked it when it was just her and Luke.

She’s looking up at the sky muttering something angry in another language. “What’s Luke going to get?” 

Thalia considers her for a moment and then sits down leaning against the brick alleyway. “Some hair stuff. Basics.”

“I thought we only took risks for food.”

Thalia smiles a little and it makes Annabeth's chest feel fuzzy. 

“You’re a smart kid.” She pats the ground next to her and Annabeth goes to sit next to her. 

“My mother…had a bad time. Things that aren’t supposed to be hard for mortals were very hard for her. And sometimes that made her not very nice to me.” She pauses and Annabeth waits patiently, doesn’t dare speak a word.

“She couldn’t really take care of herself. So, she couldn’t really take care of me either. My hair is curly like yours. And hair like ours needs special attention. When you don’t give it the care it needs, it gets stuck like this.” She takes Annabeth's hand and brings it up to her head, lets her tug on one strand gently. 

“I like your hair a lot!”

“Thank you. I do too. But, it wasn’t my choice. My mother let my hair loc up so she didn’t have to comb it every day. You should get to decide whether you want your hair like this. Did you ask to have your hair up in a bun for that long?”

Annabeth could tell her how her Dad used to braid her hair on Sunday nights. How they would sit and listen to music and he would spray and comb and braid until she fell asleep on his leg. How when he and Helen got married, he suddenly had no time to do anything that Helen could do instead. How her slick, shiny, and smooth haired stepmother would wrinkle down at her curls, yank a brush through her head and tell her she was ‘impossible’. 

But, she doesn’t. She looks down at her shoes and doesn’t say anything at all.

Thalia, even smaller than before, says, “Your parents weren’t very nice to you either. Were they?”

She doesn’t answer. 

She doesn’t have to. 

‘You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth.’ 

(When Luke gets back, he and Thalia spend three hours spraying and combing and braiding until Annabeths hair isn’t stuck anymore.)

(In a few months, a satyr named Grover will take them to camp. 

Thalia will not make it across the border.)

(Annabeth will refuse to let anyone touch her hair for a year.)

Final Round: Perseus Jackson

Bet Type: Wild Card; awarded to an individual that fails to qualify through conventional procedure.

Made with gut feelings, no logic, and excruciating human defiance. 

Trust is given without measure.

Annabeth's first thought when she sees him for the first time is, “He must be the one.”  

She’s sure of it. She says it out loud. Chiron tells her to hush, and she doesn’t even care. 

He's the one. 

She's not sure how she knows. She's waited for so long, seen so many campers. Many were far more promising than he is.

That's her second thought. He's skinnier than she thought ‘the one’ would be. Skinny and pale and more gangly limb than person.  

He’s blinking up towards them but his eyes are unfocused and hazy. That's her third thought. He's fading. They’ll have to carry him. 

‘Percy’ Chiron calls him. It’s a hero’s name. 

She wonders if whoever gave it to him knew he’d be the one too.

‘He’s the one.’, she thinks again. It feels strange and tingly in her head. 

Strange, but not false. 

Hello, Percy Jackson. It's nice to finally meet you.

#SHEEEEEES BAAAACCCCKKKK! #it's been a while! i evolved and got a life and the show humbled me and took over my life. #for the percabeth induced insanity gc on twitter (love you) #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fic #grover underwood #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #pjotv #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo tv spoilers #luke castellan #thalia grace #frederick chase

[xiamentshoneypot]

Heart stopper

Angst no comfort

Not proof read

Everything went wrong so horrifically wrong, everything else horribly wrong, felt wrong the air that had been pushed into your lungs replacing the air that had been knocked out of you when you realized you’d been ambushed and the comms had been intercepted and he couldn’t hear you. How you heart was so erratic you’d bet it had to rock it’s self and count to ten to calm down after everything had settled. All the air that passed thought shallowly after you’d made your choice. Bold

Now here you were aching and screaming at the top of your lungs at the man you’d die for at any minute it didn’t matter. “fucking answer me” you said calmly trying to soothe your aching arm and heart. This felt like when you had did somthing bad and you thought someone knew and you were just waiting for the shoe to drop the anxiety you felt at the bottom of your heart and to the tops of your soul and being in every form it could possibly take.

Silence. It was infuriating “fucking answer me now” you screamed your sweet voice now high pitched and bare utterly agnostic on the eyes of everyone. Good you wanted him to suffer as you heart is…

“Luv’ m’trying to help” Simon bowed his head scared not from a physical threat or anything like that, scared of your tone you’d never spoken to anyone like that before not when you were barking orders at subordinates and not when interacting with the enemy for information. He’d much rather those voices than this. “Then fucking answer me then! Are you in love with Her”.

Bitter

“Love m’sorry” he tried to plead with you it felt like a firefighter trying to talk someone down from a cliff after the ink dried on all there notes stamped and in route. “Yes or no” you sour voice asked eyes narrowed and soppy. Hoping a quick nod would free him a swift yes of the head stepping forward trying to touch you. Bluntly stepping back chest rising and falling hard.

“Why? And don’t give me no bullshit about how you can’t help who you fall in love with that’s bullshit!” How could he love her she’d done nothing toe arm his love she wasn’t there for him how you were.

“She- she what huh what the hell did she do to deserve that?” You interrupted her was taking too long and it was pissing you off like he had a long list of reasons he was considering. “Please I don’t want to hurt you” he pleaded he never begged like this. “Mission failed bitch what is it huh” you needed a reason and he was stuck.

“She wasn’t there for you, she wasn’t the one who stood by you through the last ten months, the night terrors the ptsd. You didn’t fuck and make love to her for seven months straight sleeping next to her, waking up with her breakfast all that shit.” Did you mean nothing to him did all of that mean nothing.

“I would die for you I just took a fucking bullet for you, not because I had to but because I love you that’s not nothing there aren’t many people who would do that for love.” You had just jumped in front of a bullet to save him to make sure he didn’t die in the face of the enemy.

The coms had been jammed and there were more and more people approaching him, in a stupid act of love you raced over to his aid to see him down but fighting as well as fading into death. Fighting for him, beside him ready to give your life to save or die with him once the gun smoke cleared and you drug his limp body on one good leg and shoulder to the evac site shedding tear after tear for him praying to a god you were sure had domed you years ago. Pleading with him not to fade away in your arms an “I love you” on the top of your tongue when he asks for her.

“it’s everything” he whispered hearing how your heart broke right in front of him love gone like he had almost been.

“I hate you Simon”

#simon riley x reader #141 x reader #cod x black reader #ghost cod #ghost x honey #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x black reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #ghost smut #angst #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort #cod angst #simon riley angst #john price angst

[flightfoot]

Miraculous Enemies AU fanfic recs

So I was just thinking about one of my favorite Miraculous tropes, enemies au. Whether it's Marinette getting the wrong idea about Adrien from the beginning of school, or Chat being cajoled into working for his father, I adore most fics with these tropes, and I'm betting that a lot of other people do as well, so here's a list of some good ones for people to peruse!

Note: I am only listing fics that are currently completed, so you don't have to fear any of these being abandoned. They are in no particular order (or rather, they're in the order in which I was able to track them down in for this list).

cruel youth by @anyxnka

Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.

---

i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

---

Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl. “Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses. “Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?” “I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

---

one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every Miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

---

with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

---

Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

---

home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

---

The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it' The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation. At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe this war is not entirely what it seems.

---

Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth. But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known? Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone? Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

---

call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

---

oh, look, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can't escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn't mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn't... who will?

---

Redemption by JamieHasCatEyes

Papillon has been defeated and imprisoned, but his accomplice, Chat Noir, was given a second chance. Marinette's time as Ladybug may be over, but she still has work to do if she wants to help Adrien reintegrate back into society.

---

The Son Of My Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

---

metamorphosis by @peachcitt

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.” or three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

---

Stealing Freedom by @rosie-b

Adrien Agreste was a good person. Marinette knew this to be true, of course; she wouldn’t be marrying him if he were some irredeemable villain. No, her fiancé was practically the opposite of evil. He cooed over babies and kittens, literally stopped to smell the roses, and always brought large bouquets of them to dates. He had trouble killing spiders and bugs, begging his partner to take on the task whenever she was around to save him. Adrien was the sweetest person Marinette knew, the most kindhearted, the most forgiving; he was almost too perfect for her sometimes. But now, Marinette knew that the same Adrien who still blushed when his fiancée kissed him was also the well-known terror of Paris, Cat Walker.

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #enemies au #ml enemies au #lovesquare #ml lovesquare

[sanjisblackasswife]

When They Cum Too Fast…(NSFW)

Ft. Sanji, Ace, Shanks, Law

CW: Sex.

Black Fem Reader

Sanji

He actually can hold off from cuming better than the other guys listed .

He knows what to think about or what different moves to make to make sure you cum at least twice before he does

Except today he has been getting teased by you all day

You both went shopping and stopped by a clothing store and Sanji seen a beautiful two piece lingerie and he held it in awe imagining you in it.

He bought it for you with the last bit of money he had and haven’t stopped thinking about it since. He was mentally excited to see you put on the thin fabric just so he can fuck you in it

Well it was finally time and he was a bit too excited…

“Fuck!” He strained out a moan into your chest panting. He only did a couple thrust and you could already feel his warm seed pool inside you letting you break out a small moan yourself from the tingling sensation.

“I’m—im so sorry sweetheart I—“

He was on the verge of tears but you kissed him, you didn’t mind at all. You were actually happy to know your boyfriend was feeling good like you always were.

“Don’t apologize. It happens, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Y-yeah but I—I didn’t want to cu—-“

You rolled over on top of his damp body running your finger down his chest and placed his hand on your slightly exposed breast barely covered by the lingerie .

“How about I make us both feel good tonight? Hm?” You bit your lip seeing his pink face squeeze your chest in admiration.

Ace

You finally allowed him to have sex with you raw and the new warm feeling overwhelmed the poor boy.

You both have been practicing safe sex for a while now but today you were just really impatient and Ace has been such a good boy for you you decided to grace him with your bare walls tonight.

He of course was absolutely more than ready to fuck you with no stupid plastic in between you both

He completely under estimated the pleasure he’d feel sliding in between your tight wet hole so he got a bit carried away with fucking you from the back

“A-ace Baby! Slow down ah!” Your whines went towards deaf ears. He was in a drunken bliss inside your pussy, you felt wetter than he is used to and tighter than he remembered and not to forget how comfortably warm he was he needed this release.

“C-cumming!” His thrust became sloppy, but his grip on your hips became tighter. He came inside you crying out your name like a melody before he hovered over your back panting on your neck and ears.

“I’m..im sorry.” He huffed. You didn’t even care you found it funny yet hot how Ace couldn’t control himself. “You feel…really good down there.”

“Yeah I can Tell.” You giggled and he just laughed with Ace slapping your now wet ass.

“‘M not ganna fall asleep ‘m ganna make you cum…too…”

“Ace! You bet not fall asl—“

Asshole fell asleep right on your back with his cock still deep inside you.

Law

Completely your doing

You just had to grip the life out of him when he told you to slow down

You know that man can’t handle you riding his cock

“WAIT—shit! Y/N stop!”

He kind of pissed you off today by how he was spoiling Bepo way more than you lately so you kinda was in a petty mindset

You didn’t even care that you wasn’t close to cuming that asshole made you mad

“Y-you…bi—-“

“You finish that sentence I’ll start bouncing again.” You held your hand up to his panting mouth feeling his cum slide out of you, he looked down to noticed and you felt his cock twitch. “You like cumming inside me huh.”

“Mmmfff—“

“What?”

Law swatted your hand away huffing and puffing with his kimono now sliding off his upper body, you smirked at his annoyed face and sat up, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“You know why.” You crossed your arms pouting like a child completely unfazed by you being butt ass naked and his cock still inside you pumping you full to the brim with his cum because you keep clenching down.

“No, I don’t know why!—-fuck —you feel too good get off me!”

“No. I didn’t cum yet.”

“YOU COULD HAVE IF YOU WOULD HAVE SLOWED THE FUCK DOWN!”

I mean the man is half your age his stamina is still there but sometimes cums like a damn touch starved man.

However he came right as he inserted himself into you which was something that shocked the both of you

You didn’t mind it but Shanks with his dramatic ass began to question himself and his worth as a man

“Baby I told you it’s fine just come back to bed…” You groaned seeing this 40 year old man walk back and fourth naked having a fit.

“No why the hell did I do that? I mean you don’t feel THAT damn good—“

“Excuse me?!”

“I—okay that’s not what I mean you do feel that good but ALL I DID WAS PUT THE TIP IN?”

“You exhaust me Shanks I’m going to bed—“

“Nope!” He pushed you back down on the bed as you were reaching for your robe and opened your legs exposing your cum filled pussy. “You’re ganna cum and I’m ganna make it happen I still can make you cum!”

“Shanks I know you can I—ah!”

He wasted no time using his tongue on you and he most definitely proved himself over and over again.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece smut #one piece x female reader #sanji #sanjionepiece #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #one piece law #law smut #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #ace x reader #portgas ace smut #ace smut #ace headcanons #law x reader #law x you #shanks x you #shanks x reader #shanks smut #one piece shanks #shanks imagine #sanji smut #one piece x black!reader #one piece drabble #one piece scenario #one piece imagine

[byunejoo]

four seventeen p.m 𐦍

pairing asakura jo x fem reader

content est relationship, virgin!jo, inexperienced boyf!jo, big dick!jo, he’s kinda massive, oral (m rec), handjobs, fingering (f rec), finger sucking, kind of dom!reader but not really, virginity loss, protected and mentioned unprotected sex, condom breaking, he’s embarrassed, he lowkey has a praise kink, potential size kink, mentioned pulling out (but only barely)

word count 3.8k

notes not a request! (where are the jo requests </3) lol i told myself when i was writing this that it wouldn’t be long bc i wasn’t attracted to jo like that…..brain said “u wanna bet dani?” also this is not proofread and the ending was rushed so don’t mind any mistakes please

To say that Jo was nervous would be a major understatement.

You’d been dating Jo for a few months now and it was nothing short of wonderful. It seemed that the two of you operated on the same wavelength; you both shared the same hobbies, opinions, interests, and even your differences didn’t clash, but instead balanced each other out. It almost felt like you were made for one another.

On the other hand, though, he felt very nervous for the next step in your relationship. So far, all you have done was minimal affection—a kiss here and there, hugging and some slightly-stiff cuddling. But he’d noticed lately how much more clingy you were, how your touches lingered, kisses were longer, and your eyes wandered. He wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were thinking about.

But the issue comes when it actually gets down to it.

It’s not that Jo is a virgin by choice. Well—his own choice. There were times where he brushed off his nerves with others he was interested in, but once they had gotten his pants down, all plans fell through. In short, Jo’s dick is big. Much bigger than most people know how to handle. And instead of making him cocky and confident about his size, it did the complete opposite. He felt almost ashamed.

So, when you took initiative one afternoon, kissing him a little harder and longer than you usually do, he got nervous. He tried to keep up with kissing you back, but all he could focus on was your hand that dropped past his shoulder, sneaking further and further down his front. When he felt your fingertips brush past his belly button, he gasped and pulled back from the kiss. You, shocked from the abrupt action, pulled your hand away quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Have you done something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable?

“I’m sorry—,” you both started. The two of you gestured to one another to continue, awkwardly laughing.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shared a laugh about speaking again at the same time, but a blanket of seriousness covered the two of you after that. It was quiet and a little awkward. Neither of you wanted to be the one to break the silence after that. You watched as Jo avoided your gaze and fidgeted with his fingers. Those fingers that you often find yourself staring at as of late. Just thinking, wondering, imagining how they would feel—. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous to…do anything.”

You regained your focus, letting your eyes snap back up to look at his face. His cheeks were tinted a slightly pink shade, his ears red, and although he was trying to look at you, he couldn’t stop his shifty eyes. “We don’t have to do anything, JoJo, that’s okay.”

“I want to!” If you hadn’t been staring at him so intently, you would’ve been startled by his sudden burst. “Sorry…. I-I want…to do stuff. I’m just nervous.”

Reaching a comforting hand out, you patted him on the shoulder. “Why’s that, babe? What makes you so nervous?”

Jo finally made eye contact with you. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your gaze yet again. He’s not sure if he could tell you while you’re looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to see the look of disappointment when he tells you “I’m a virgin.”

You snort a little, breathing out a sigh of relief. Scooting closer to him, you pressed right up against him to lean your head on his shoulder. “Thank god. I thought it was something I had done. You know I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not. We can do whatever you want, and not do whatever you don’t.”

He couldn’t deny how he hardened in his pants, thinking about finally having that moment, and with you of all people, being someone he cares about deeply. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the bulge in his pants, but kept your eyes trained on his face as you reached for it. You were searching for any sign of hesitation, any sign he wants you to stop. But there wasn’t one.

And when you finally placed your hand over it, Jo felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but that didn’t matter. In just a matter of time, with the way your hand was now working over his pants, he would be.

“Is this okay?” You could feel the way his thighs tense beside your hand. He was still avoiding your gaze, but you could see that he was looking at where you touch him. He nods. “I want to hear you say it.”

“It-It’s o-kay.” His voice was a little shaky, but it gave you all the confirmation you needed.

You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw. Adding a little more pressure, you cupped your hand more firmly around him, squeezing occasionally. His cock hardened, becoming more solid in your grasp. He gasped, taking shallow breaths as you kissed along his jaw and neck while you moved your hand. “Can I take your pants off?”

Your fingers slipped under his waistband when he said yes, hooking around his pants and underwear, pulling them both down to his thigh. His—now fully hard—cock sprung up, hitting against his stomach with a soft thud. Heat rushed from his chest all the way up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He groaned, reaching for his half-discarded pants. But you pushed his hands away and pinned his wrists to his side. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move. Were you going to laugh at him? Humiliate him and tell him he was too big to do anything with, like everyone else?

No, you didn’t do any of that. “Is this what you were worried about, puppy?” He almost sighed at the petname. “Were you worried that your big dick would scare me away?” He nodded. You couldn’t help but let out another laugh. Not because you were laughing at him, nor making fun of him, but you can’t believe that all this time it was only because of something he has no control over.

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

You coo. “I’m not laughing at you. I think it’s cute that you were worried about this. But I promise it doesn’t scare me. Actually, it’s kind of arousing.” As you spoke, you smoothed over the skin of his thighs, hoping to make him less tense. “I’ll only do what you allow me to do. Can I touch you?”

“Yes. I want you to touch me, please.”

As you move to straddle his legs, Jo feels the bed shift under the movement of your knees, much like the way his stomach turns and dips at the realization that it’s happening. You are about to touch him, you’re going to make him cum, being the first person other than himself to do so. Your steady hands reach out, and after what feels like centuries, you finally wrap them around his cock. Two of your hands don’t even cover him completely from base to the tip. You give him a few experimental, dry pumps first before removing one hand. Spitting into the palm of it, you then used it to lubricate the glide of your hands on his length.

It felt much different having your hands on him versus his own. Your touch, although firm, was a lot softer. Gentler. You moved your hands a lot more slowly, familiarizing yourself with the heavy feeling of him in your hands. Feeling every inch of him, every little vein, and embedding that feeling into your mind. Your thumb swipes over his tip, dragging little beads of precum down, making every tug and twist of your hands on his cock even wetter and more slick. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and let out low moans. He could barely register when you asked if you could use your mouth, which he agreed to, of course.

The contact from your tongue had his eyes shooting open, feeling like all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He managed to let his eyes wander down, and he was met by the sight of you already looking at him, kitten licking over his tip while stroking him. Then, while he kept eye contact with you, you wrapped your lips around him. Only the tip at first. Gently suckling, hollowing your cheeks, then pulling off. After a few moments, you began to take more of him into your mouth. Just a couple of inches, little by little, until you felt you couldn’t take any more. You used one hand to follow behind your mouth so not one inch of his cock went untouched as you moved your head, bobbing up and down, back and forth. Jo could only grip the sheets beside his legs tightly, moaning and sighing. It was a feeling he’d never felt before. One that he could only think about in his dirty fantasies. The idea of someone being brave enough to pleasure him and his big dick was something he thought was too far-fetched, something he thought he’d never experience in his entire life. But here you are, sucking him off and giving him pleasure he could only dream of.

Before he realizes it, a tight feeling spreads from his flexed abdomen down to his toes, where he curls them while trying to fend off his pending orgasm. He knows he can’t hold off much longer, but he selfishly wants to have your mouth around him as long as he can have it. “Ah, I-I’m gonna c-um…” His words were broken from the sounds he’d been making previously. You didn’t stop nor slow down, and instead attempted to take just a little more between your lips. One hand moved to shuffle his shirt out of the way, the other holding his length steady as you moved your focus to rolling your tongue over and suckling what you have stuffed in your mouth. His thighs tensed and shook lightly as you pushed him right over the edge, humming around him. Your tongue laps up every drop he spills, causing broken moans to rumble from his chest straight to your core. You’d pretty much tuned out your own reactions, focusing on pleasuring him for the first time, but you can’t deny how badly it had affected you.

Once you’d swallowed every drop you could, and he was twitching from overstimulation, you climbed off of Jo’s legs and sat by his side. “Was that okay?” You pressed your thighs together looking at him. His chest was heaving up and down with the deep breaths he was taking to regulate his breathing, his hair was slightly tousled from your previous kiss, and the slight sheen of sweat on his flushed cheeks looked all too good to you. Not to mention the faintest of red marks on his neck from where you’d attached your lips earlier and the way his eyes are squeezed shut. He nodded, not confident in his voice yet. Yes, it was good, he wanted to tell you. Better than I could’ve imagined.

A heavy, but comfortable, silence fell upon the both of you as you allowed Jo to catch his breath. However, you couldn't deny that his labored breathing next to you, and the desire bubbling up and finally coming to a head once you’d finally seen what you’d been longing for didn’t make you want more. But you promised, you’d only do what Jo wanted. You’d go at his pace. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, would it?

“Do you want to go…further?” Yet again, his breath caught in his throat at your bold question. “It’s okay if not.”

He nods, seemingly the only reaction he can manage at this point. And with a few more questions, answered with a shake or a nod of his head, you had switched positions. Now you were laying in the spot he previously had been, knees bent and pressed together as Jo sits on his heels, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted him to do. He’d never gotten this far with anyone else, either.

“Take off my shorts. Just the shorts.” You stared at him, watching him nervously lick his lips. His plump lips that you can’t wait to feel all over you—but that’s for next time. This time, you wanted the focus to be less about you, despite how his full attention was on you now. This was his first time, and you want the experience to be all about him. But you aren’t sure if you could take him without some sort of preparation first. So you watch as his trembling fingers hook around the waistband of your flimsy shorts, gently tugging them off of your skin. You lift your hips so he could pull them off easier. Then, you moved your feet once the fabric pooled around your ankles, watching as he dropped them to the side. He struggled to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, totally unsure of where he’s allowed to look. “Look at me, babe. I want you to take my panties off, and I want you to see how wet I am for you.”

Jo feels like he’s going to explode with the words you’re saying. You’re wet? For him? These words are so simple yet so new and vulgar to him, but he thinks he likes them. He wants to hear more. So he hooks his fingers around the fabric of your underwear, much like he had done with your shorts before, only this time more confidently. However, he wasn’t ready for the sight in front of him when he’d pulled them off. Naturally, his eyes followed an imaginary line from your ankles all the way down your legs, where he saw what he thinks is one of his new favorite sights. You’d spread your thighs as he slipped your panties off of your legs, and he had a clear view of your gorgeous pussy. It was so pretty, and you hadn’t lied when you said you were wet. He couldn’t help but admire how some of your arousal had leaked into the seat of your underwear, spreading across your folds that glisten now that he’d removed the clothing.

“Give me your hand.” You reached out for him, and without much thought, he placed his large hand in your own. One by one, you curled his fingers down until he had just his pointer finger standing. Then, you guided his hand between your legs. You helped him slide his finger through your slick arousal, wetting his finger and dragging it back up to your clit. “You feel that? All for you.” After that, you let go of his wrist and let him feel for himself.

He timidly ran his finger through your slit like you’d done, then stopped at your entrance. His fingertip breached the opening, being met with little resistance. Inch by inch, little by little, he pushes his finger into you slowly. Pulling it out, pushing back in, he sets an inexperienced, slow pace. Jo was fascinated with watching his finger disappear inside you. “More. Another one, please.” You breathed out. He hadn’t even noticed any of the sounds you were making before. But he obliged and added a second finger beside his first one. The feeling was new to him, having you squeeze around his fingers each time he thrust them in. And every moan and shaky breath you let out was something he could get used to. “Oh, Jo, your fingers are so good. Doing so well.” Every praise sent a shock through his body, and in turn caused him to fuck his fingers into you just a little faster. Twisting his wrist, curling his fingertips—anything to get you to make those noises again.

Suddenly, your hand shoots down to grasp at his wrist. He freezes in shock, halting all movement. “Mm, don’t stop, please. Almost there.” With barely enough time to register the words that slipped past your lips, Jo watches as you begin to grind yourself on his fingers. Whines, whimpers, gasps, all noises floating through the air make him twitch, already getting hard again. You’re fully fucking yourself on his fingers now, taking charge and pushing yourself closer to orgasm. And when your thighs start to tremble and your hips jerk, Jo finally snaps out of his trance and begins to move his fingers. He curls them and drags them against your walls, feeling you clench down on them. His thumb brushes against the spot you showed him earlier, your clit, and starts rubbing gentle circles on it. Your hips jerked, stomach caving in with the pleasure. A few swears mixed with broken moans ripped through your throat at the added sensation, riding out your high until you lightly twitched with overwhelming sensitivity.

He pulled his fingers out of you, covered and soaked by your slick release. Staring, he’s a little uncertain of what to do now; does he wipe them off? What is he supposed to do now that they’re sticky and covered in you? Luckily, he didn’t have to think much before you sat up on weak arms to take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swipes up, down, and between his two fingers, licking him clean of any trace of arousal left behind. His mouth drops open in shock watching you, eyes following your every move closely. You hum around his fingers and pull off with a lewd pop sound. He couldn’t deny that he was hard again, mind racing with thoughts as you stare at him with eyes clouded by lust.

“Can-Can we…keep going?” He’s the one to ask this time. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shakiness in his voice, but you confidently nodded.

You rolled over to your side, stretching to reach your bedside table and pulling open the drawer on it. Reaching in, you fished around before pulling your hand back out with a shiny foil packet. “Have you ever put a condom on before?” He shook his head no and you beckoned him closer. Sitting up, you watch as he awkwardly shuffles his way to you, hard cock pathetically bobbing with each movement. “Watch me do it.”

With a firm grip, you held the base of his cock steady. You pinched the very end of the condom with one hand, and slowly started to roll it down his length with the other. It was a bit hard to do, but you managed to completely unroll it. The entire time, Jo’s eyes were trained on the work your hands were doing, trying to etch it into his memory for later use.

“It’s a bit tight.” He almost chokes on air at your words. “The condom, I mean. Does it feel alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jo looks at where you’re staring, and he sees the condom stretched tightly around his girth. He shakes his head no again, and you lay back, allowing him to continue.

He shuffles between your spread legs and tries to line himself up. When you realize that he’s just a little bit too shaky, you grab his wrist. “Jo. Are you sure you want to do this? You seem really nervous.”

He nods. You shake your head, urging him to use his words. “I’m…okay. I want to…do this. Please.”

“Okay. Okay. Take your time, babe.” You leaned back, relaxed. “There’s no rush.”

To Jo, it felt like an eternity before he was able to calm down enough to do anything. He was nervous, and excited. It was finally happening; he’d finally lose his virginity if he could just—. He presses his tip into you. The stretch was a lot, almost too much, but your slick wetness and the extra lubrication on the condom made the glide easier. Coupled with the fact that Jo was taking his time — he was pressing into you so slowly that if you couldn’t feel how he was stretching you out, you wouldn’t believe he was moving at all.

Jo braced himself on his hands beside your body. He slowly pushed his length into you until you couldn’t take any more. The two of you let out shaky breaths in unison, adjusting to the feeling. Of you being so full and of him being squeezed so tightly.

It was unlike any time he touched himself. For a while, he’d wrap his large fist around his equally long and thick cock, dreaming about this moment. He knew it would feel different. He just didn’t know it would feel this different. Having your gummy walls stretched and squeezing so tightly around him had his head spinning, and before he knew it, he was absentmindedly rutting his hips into you, trying to pathetically bury himself deeper inside you.

You gasped, grasping his shoulders, lightly digging your fingernails in. “Oh, Jo.” Small moans floated through the room. “You’re doing so good.”

He sits up on his knees to better drive his hips into yours, slightly jolting your body with every thrust. He, too, was letting out small noises of pleasure, trying to focus on what he was doing so it was pleasurable for both of you. But all of a sudden, he stops.

It took everything in you to not whine. Instead, you kept your composure. Maybe he didn’t want to continue anymore? This is a lot to take in, going from completely inexperienced to having your first everything in one night. You glided your hands down from his shoulders to his bicep, all the way down to his wrists to squeeze comfortingly. “Are you okay, Jo?”

He nods, shakes his head, then nods again. “I-Um. I’m…fine. It’s just,” you gently encourage him to speak. “I think…I think it broke.”

“The condom?” He nods. “Pull out. Pull out and let me see.” It took some urging, but he did eventually, hesitantly, pull out. And he was right — the condom had split and now had to be discarded. Jo had a pout on his face as he watched you gently pull off the ripped condom and toss it aside. He was fully prepared for you to tell him you can’t continue, and he accepted that. But you didn’t.

He lets out a confused noise. “We can keep going if you want.” You repeat. “Just let me know when you’re going to finish so you can pull out, okay?”

The feeling of being inside you without that extra barrier is so mind numbing that he almost doesn’t pull out. Almost.

#&team smut #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #&audition smut #&audition hard hours #&audition hard thoughts #asakura jo smut #jo smut #&team jo smut

[coleskingdom]

Want Me To Prove It

Will Ospreay x F Reader

Minors DNI NSFW

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

The tension between Will and I could be cut with a knife, the cat and mouse game had been fun, but I had made one snide remark and now you regretted ever saying it. The two of you had toyed with each other for weeks, the innuendos, then he had held a candy bar out of your reach, and the words that now haunted you when you said “ I don’t beg” his eyes flashed at the words, and a new game had begun.

“What do you mean we are sharing a room?” As he handed me a room key. “Why are you so nervous?” as he took my bag off my shoulder grazing my my arm as he did leading us towards the elevator. “ I’m not nervous just irritated, I don’t like sharing “ he stood behind me as he leaned in “Good neither do I” his low whisper felt on my neck I involuntarily shivered at his words.

I walked towards the room using the key to let us in. “ One bed seriously Will it’s one thing for us to be in a room together, but the same bed.” my eyes on his, “You’ve been in my bed before love, are you afraid I’m going to be a bit of naughty boy.” his grin made me weak in the knees. “ You’re not wrong but we’d watch a movie and then I’d go back to my room.” putting my phone down. “ Yeah and what would you do when you’d get back to your room?” his eyes on me, “Sleep Will, I’d go to sleep.” frustration and irritation in my voice, if he’d only knew the things I did and thoughts I had about him. Looking at him now though he looked as if he was reading my mind. “Y/N it’s one night, I’m just giving you a hard time, I’ll be a proper gentleman. I’m just giving you shit. I’m sorry if I took it too far.” his voice softer. “You’re fine, it’s me, I’m stressed and it’s been a rough day. It’s not your fault, I’m going to shower and get ready for bed.” reaching for my bag. “You haven’t eaten all day, I’ll order food, go shower, by the time you’re done. Food will be here and we can watch whatever you want.” he was always looking after me, but to be fair I was always looking after him as well.

I took a long shower psyching myself up that I was perfectly capable of sleeping next to that perfect man without it being an issue. He’s my friend, if I’m honest he’s my person. I put on my shorts and my favorite T-shirt messy bun my stomach in knots.

I opened the door, and there he was shirtless, and in those damn gray sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination. He brought in the food, and set it on the table, turning he sees me staring at him. “See something you want?” leaving the food and walking towards me my back against the wall.

“ I bet I can make you beg” Will’s eyes scanning you, you focus on his lips, where he’s peeking his tongue out a little bit.

“I don’t beg” your voice portraying confidence your body doesn’t feel as he leans in his elbows enclosing you against the wall

“ Want me to prove it then” his words your undoing as he leans into kiss me, his lips softer than I had imagined. He pulls back slightly to see if he’s misread the situation. I close the last inch parting our lips, teasing his tongue for a second before he seizes control, dominating the moment the way he always does.Tasting, sucking, nipping, devouring me. "You think I'll get right into it, don't you?" he humorously hums in my mouth. "Love.. I haven't even started yet. You've no idea what you're getting into with me. I'll make you beg for more even while you're coming undone.”He nudges my chin with his nose, hot lips latching onto the delicate skin of my throat, sucking, pecking, biting between words. My mind focuses on him, every sense starved for his words and touch..

“Will, please" my eyes find his, “Please what? Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.”his mouth on my neck still, “ I want you, I need you, I b….” His hands move so fast that I’m naked and on the bed with him over me my hands on the waist band of the sweatpants tugging them down , he manages to kick them the rest of the way off.

"What do you taste like?" he muses.The question isn't aimed at me. More like he's voicing his own thoughts, twirling his tongue over my pebbled nipple. He toys the other between his fingers, pinching, rolling, and driving me wild.

Satisfied with my hips arching off the mattress, pleading for more, he grips my thighs, pushes my legs back, then rests my ankles over his shoulders. The first tiny kiss to my mound forces the air from my lungs.

"You're trouble," I sigh. "Stop teasing." “Teasing is the best part, sweet girl”

Spreading me with his thumbs, he licks me slowly, bottom to top, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over my clit. And then he sucks. Hard. The move lights up my body and my thighs quiver in time with a surprised gasp.”You taste like mine." I grasp his hair, forcing him back down, and feel him smile against me.

"Greedy... needy... pretty

little thing." He punctuates every word with a thorough lick, and then... the show begins.

"Oh my," I mewl, fisting his hair.

"Will.” He doesn't respond with words.Instead, he slides one finger inside, timing the thrusts with the flicks of his tongue. He doesn't let me come when the orgasm looms close by. He eases off, kissing and biting my inner thigh as his hands knead my hips. He does it again but this time “ Y/N look at me, tell me how much you want to come.” eyes. “ Will please let me come.”His head drops down, torturing my clit with his tongue. I'm so ready for the orgasm it's mere seconds before it hits. I'm vaguely aware I've clamped my thighs around his head, holding him hostage as he licks me through the release.

"I've got you, love."He's suddenly closer, higher, his arms flush to my sides. He kisses me as in one long, slow thrust almost has me coming again. He drives himself home, letting out a low growl that forces my body into high alert.

"Fuck," he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead. "So wet. So tight... so fucking mine.”His movements are slow, caring,tender. So slow so thorough that I feel every inch of him. His grip on my waist is nothing short of possessive. His thrusts calculated to drive me crazy. His light eyes filled with emotion, the pace is not frantic or mindless. Like with everything he does it builds to the moment every nibbling, biting kiss, every time he sinks into me, every push meticulous...as I come hard, tears fall from my eyes as I understand everything so clearly. Not changing the pace one bit as he drives himself home over again. The weight of his big body pinning me to the mattress magnifies how erotic this feels. How close we are. I feel him come inside me, the groan the restraint, the little moan as he buries his head in the crook of my neck.

My arms wraparound him keeping him there, for this moment it all makes perfect sense. I’m afraid of what I’ll see when the moment is over. “Y/N “as he turns his head into the side of my neck. “Yeah” my words not knowing what’s coming next. He rolls off of me , laying on his side, “ hey look at me, you don’t get to hide from me. If we need to talk let’s talk.” His hand brushing my cheek “ what if? “ I began “ What if what?” his tone gentle “ What if all of this just made perfect fucking sense, and I don’t know if I can go back to how we were before?” I hear him let out his breath as I close my eyes realizing the absolute truth and vulnerability in my words. “Y/N please open your eyes. Look at me, I don’t want to go back.”

#will ospreay x you #will ospreay x y/n #will ospreay smut #aew smut #will ospreay x reader #will ospreay fanfic

[saetoshis]

FULL NELSON W MUZAN?? IT WILL NOT LEAVE MY MIND OMGOSKF hes so strong imagine like saying “i bet you cant hold me in the air while fucking me” AND HE TAKES IT AS A CHALLENGE. you’ve never been shut up so quickly in all of your life. he’s calling you a “greedy little slut” for saying that just so he’d fuck you until you’re begging him to stop but even then he wont, not until he’s satisfied now that you worked him up

OKAY IM GONE NOWCMOAMF

YOUR BRAIN??:);)2)($$3 FUCK MEEEE I WANNA MARRY IT.

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

fem!reader, bratty!reader, dumbification, degradation, strength/size kink, he fucks you standing up, shoves his fingers in your mouth, rough sex, creampie, [mentions of multiple creampies]

“i bet you’re not strong enough to hold me up and fuck me… actually, i don’t know if i believe you’re even strong enough to hold me up at all.”

muzan’s eyebrow twitches as that infamous forehead vein bulges out to make an appearance, crimson gaze full of utter disbelief as your words boggle around in his head - what did you just say?

the smug look on your face says it all, and muzan can't possibly choke down his need to prove you wrong with every thrust until you're falling into dumbness on his cock. he could imagine ruining you in so many different ways right now, but the ending always results in his name tumbling out of your drooling mouth like a chant with load after load of his cum stuffed inside of you.

"hm, is that so?" muzan's low tone drips with condescendence, tantalizing lips just inches from yours as his brawny hand grips your jaw. he relishes in the meekness glimmering in your eyes, his grasp on your face forcing your neck to crane up at him. "didn't anyone ever teach you not to bite off more than you can chew?"

your brain was already so hazy and riddled with lust that you barely processed the way he tore your clothes off, his thick fingers digging into your ass as he lifts you up - your knees hooked over his arms.

“okay… so, you picked me up. big deal, but that still isn’t enough to prove me wro-“ your words stifle as his cock pushes inside you to bottom out, one hand holding you up as the other shoves two fingers in your mouth.

“you really don’t know when to stop running your mouth, do you?” muzan’s rasped tone is biting, his brawny grip bouncing you on his cock and driving jolts up your body. “still have something to say? still think i can’t? why don’t you just watch me, then?”

you’ve never been humbled so intensely in your life - every rough rock of his hips drives his cock into the hilt of your pussy with a brash smack, his fingers fully delved in your mouth as you whine and whimper around them.

“you’re nothing more than a greedy little slut, isn’t that right?” muzan sneers out, pearled fangs baring as he watches your eyes flutter and your drool slip down his knuckles. “being a brat isn’t in your favor. i thought you would’ve learned that by now, but i guess i was mistaken.”

your every murmur of ‘m-muzan! too big- too much’ is muffled and incomprehensible, falling on deaf ears as he bounces and grinds your hips and fucks your precious cunt however he pleases. you swear that each drive of his cock makes you see stars, brain foggy as your whole body tingles in euphoria.

“‘too big’, hm? should’ve thought of that before you mouthed off to me,” muzan leers out between heaving pants, brawny muscles flexing from every movement. with every second that his climax ticks closer, his ministrations only get rougher and more unrelenting. “but i guess you were just desperate, weren’t you? go on, admit it.”

“yes, yes, i’m jus’ desperate,” you mutter out onto his fingers, your whimpers and stifled breaths making it sound more like a drunken babble. your wet lashes flutter shut, the raw pleasure pervading through your body like poison as it completely takes over you.

“that’s right,” muzan’s ruts start to get sloppy as they shift into an inhumanly rapid pace, each wet smack and rough growl rattling in your thoughtless head as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. his climax twitches in his cock, each tight squeeze of your cunt practically begging for his cum. “slutty pussy wants all my cum inside, doesn’t it? say ‘yes, muzan’…”

“yes, muzan!” you muffle out, drool smothering his hand as he fucks into you with only one goal in mind - to fill you up again and again, just to watch you squirm and admit that you were, in fact, wrong.

“there you go, so obedient for me,” muzan mutters out condescendingly, a leering smirk on his face as his muscles shudder from the euphoria simmering in his body. with a chuckled grunt and his cock bottomed out in your pussy, ropes of white spill inside you to the hilt and drip down his shaft.

“you’ve learned your lesson now, didn’t you? but i don’t think i’m done teaching you yet.”

2022 MUZANS.

#i ended up omitting the full nelson to offer u THIS CONCEPT INSTEAD 😻😻 #BUT I WILL WRITE FULL NELSON ONE DAY PINKY SWEAR !! #all hail divilyn !!! 🫡 #i wroye thid literally falling asleep btw #[‹ muzan! ›] #[‹ moshi's favs : cadie ›] #[‹ moshi : moshi? ›] #[‹ moshi : writes ›] #muzan smut #muzan x reader #kny smut #kny x reader #cw degradation #cw breeding #cw dumbification