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endlessthxxghts · 5 months

Text

Animals

DBF!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite songs is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

MASTERLIST

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID.

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.”

“But you’re not anymore, right?”

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call.

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible.

“Who called ya?” your dad asked.

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you.

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can.

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it.

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are.

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood.

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction.

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number.

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?”

Silence.

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where.

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again.

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure.

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable.

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.”

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth.

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat.

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess.

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him.

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him.

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin.

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that.

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length.

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance.

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you.

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth.

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts.

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer.

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass.

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge.

“Joel,” you cry out.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window.

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside.

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions.

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum.

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit.

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal.

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back.

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle.

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit.

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss.

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed.

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye.

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest.

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you.

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took.

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals.

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @akah565 @pedrostories

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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joelmillers-whore · 7 months

Text

I'll Be Here In The Morning

summary: after a heated argument, you try to go to sleep alone, but joel knows you can’t and he doesn’t like not sleeping next to you. he comes back and the next thing you know, the two of you can’t keep your hands off of each other.

Recommended Song(s): Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Word Count: 4.2K

Series or One-Shot

Warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, no outbreak, slight relationship insecurity, they have a fight but it’s not shown, SMUT, joel calling reader darlin’ because why not, joel reassuring them and being sweet, also age gap i guess, canon divergent, praise kink, unsafe sex (don't be like joel, use a condom)

A/N: hey ya’ll! this is my first TLOU fic and i am so excited to post it here (also my first time posting on here). i am an AO3 user through and through but i thought it was time to broaden my horizon so to speak. i was so overwhelmed with how many of you wanted to see this type of fic, so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think or request anything you want to see. i’ll try to get to it/ i’m trying to be more active. i’m not sure if my asks are open so let me know if that works lol. anyway, i hope ya’ll enjoy this!!

Slamming the bedroom door behind you, you crossed your arms over your chest. You were angry, furious even, mostly with yourself but also with your boyfriend. Anger was coursing through your veins, pumping white-hot rage through them that made your chest constrict when you thought back to the petty fight you’d had with Joel not ten minutes ago.

It was mindless, stupid bullshit but you’d gotten angry over it anyway. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure just how it started, but you did know that you had been a simmering pot, ready and waiting to explode. So you had needed to get out of there, away from him. You didn’t fight with Joel often, even though your clashing personalities would beg to differ. When you did get angry though, there was no holding either of you back.

You and Joel each had your own way of dealing with anger and most times, you chose to walk away, not wanting to accidentally say the wrong thing or to say something hurtful that you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. So, here you were. In the bedroom. Fighting back against your racing heart and rising body temperature.

You had come back home after a long day on your feet and something mundane had set you off, and Joel just happened to be in the line of fire. Before long, you and Joel had gotten into it and not in the fun and sexy way you found yourself always wanting from him, regardless of what kind of mood you were in.

You thought back to the argument and how dark and endless Joel’s eyes had looked, how they seared into you when you were fighting, keeping you locked in and firmly in place. A shiver ran up the length of your spine as you imagined how he had crossed his arms, clearly in frustration, but how even when you were angry, you hadn’t been able to look away from his broad chest or how the material of his shirt had been pulled so tautly over his bulging muscles, making you bite your lip.

That annoying little flutter in the pit of your stomach made you groan in exasperation because even when you were upset with him, you couldn’t deny the sexual chemistry you and Joel had.

You shook your head, trying to shake yourself from your lust-induced daydream. You were overtired from work and clearly still reeling from an argument that you hadn’t been expecting to come home to. You glanced over at the clock; it was later than you had realized it was. How long had you and Joel been fighting for?

The all too familiar feeling of regret settled into your bones. You hated fighting with Joel, with the one person you considered to be more of a family to you than your actual family. But what was done was done and there was no going back now.

Neither one of you held onto anger for long, both of you deciding a long time ago that if either one of you were still angry in the morning over what had transpired the night before, you would agree to sit down and hash it out. That rule had probably saved your relationship more than once, and anger between the two of you never lasted for more than two days at most.

Rolling back your shoulders, you held firm to the idea that holding onto what you had said and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you now, so you thought about something else instead. You thought about how your muscles ached and how a migraine was slowly forming. The only cure that could help you now was sleep.

You knew that come the morning you and Joel would be back to bickering lovingly with each other and laughing over breakfast, just like how it always turned out. He was bound to forgive you, you hoped. But what if this fight was the one that tipped him over the edge? What if when he left, he wouldn’t come back?

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach like a thousand-pound boulder. You bit back the sting of tears and honed your hearing, listening for anything in the darkness that enveloped you. Disappointment manifested quickly when you heard nothing, except for your harsh breathing. Fuck.

You had fucked up royally, laying into him like that. And he wasn’t even there so you could fix it, there was really nothing you could do at the moment. You debated for a minute about calling him but you decided against it. He needed time to cool off— you both did. And you wanted to give him that time.

With a heavy heart, you started getting ready for bed. Maybe if you went through the motions, pretended like everything was fine, and sped through the night, Joel would be there when you woke up, smirking like you were his whole world again. So you rid yourself of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable; one of Joel’s shirts that went down to your knees and some sleep shorts. You lifted the hem of the shirt to your nose and inhaled, getting lost in the scent of him that still lingered.

It was warm and clean with a faint hint of coffee. It was Joel to the core and you rubbed your thighs together when you thought about how that scent crowded you when you and him made love, or when you had first started seeing each other, you had stayed up during a rain storm and just talked for the whole night, staying awake on black coffee and powdered donuts.

Mindlessly, you climbed into bed and settled in, trying to fall asleep despite the gnawing feeling in your gut. You sighed heavily, flipping over the pillow and then fluffing it, repeating the motions until you made your head spin. You never could sleep alone. Even before you had met Joel, you hated it. And right now, you hated it even more, especially when you reached over to his side, feeling for him.

But there was nothing there except the coldness of the sheets. You grew annoyed at yourself for how needy you felt without him snuggling next to you, his body heat warming you up better than any blanket could. You wanted Joel here, not anywhere else. And he knew it, which was why he almost never left you to sleep alone if he could avoid it. Almost never. Until now.

You closed your eyes and tried to count sheep, thinking that it could help. You tried not to concentrate on how alone you felt or how you missed him so much it hurt. Counting sheep must have helped because before you knew it, you found yourself in a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning for the majority of the night. Your ears pricked up when you heard a noise, thinking you heard the bedroom door open. You stiffened, attempting to remain calm and closing your eyes tighter.

Whoever it was moved around in the dark, their shadow fidgeting with the dresser before they climbed into bed next to you. They nudged themselves closer to you and relief washed over you when you recognized their scent. It was Joel. He came back. Just like he always did.

He shuffled his body closer to you, his solid front melding to your back, as his face snuggled into the crook of your shoulder, just how you liked it. It confirmed that he was there and he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“You still mad?”, Joel mumbled, his Southern drawl coming out gruffer as he tried to keep his voice low. He nuzzled your shoulder deeper, planting a soft kiss there.

You shook your head, as best as you could in the position you were in. You were well past the anger stage. And right now, you just wanted him beside you, with you. Right here. You felt Joel’s growing hardness rest against your back and a dull throbbing started in your cunt, making you squirm.

“I thought you weren’t coming back”, you croaked, the shroud of darkness acting as a shield against how scared you were at the thought of Joel not coming back at all.

Joel held you tighter, his arms flexing as he wrapped them around you in the same way you were used to. His gesture of keeping you close was more of a comfort to you than any of his words could. You craned your neck slightly, trying to make out the expression that was on Joel’s face, but it was hard.

The bedroom was mostly dark except for a tiny sliver of moonlight that shined through the window, and even then, it was tough. You could make out the tiniest of details in the low light; like the imperceptible way that his eyebrows creased when he was focused on you, or how you could tell that he was still smiling because of the way his eyes crinkled, despite being unsure of your mood. God, you loved this man.

Joel was there for you and you let out a tentative and shaky breath, grateful that he came back to you. You let any remaining tension drain from your body, and shifted your hips, which earned you a sharp groan from Joel, his hand flying to hold your hips in place.

“I’ll always come back to you, darlin’”, his voice was gruff and came out strained. His hot breath fanned over your ear, “Always”.

“Promise?”, you asked, grinding back into him again. It was the last confirmation you needed and then you would drop it, let the argument fade away.

You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice, “Promise”.

The tightness that had been sitting on your chest was no more and you were feeling bold, and a little more than turned on. The idea that Joel would always come back to you made you wet, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the pressure you felt between your legs.

As if sensing your arousal, Joel’s hand wrapped around your middle, pulling your ass flush with his erection, his hand splayed across your clothed stomach, holding you to him.

You felt his short stubble run along the side of your neck, and your jaw, the abrasive sensation making your pussy flutter with the idea of that stubble rubbing against you harshly, until you were swollen and red down there.

“Baby...”, Joel protested weakly, his half-hearted attempt at drawing out the tension between you two. But there was tension and it was a string that was being pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.

You grabbed Joel’s hand that was on your stomach, guiding it lower and lower until you stopped at the waistband of your sleep shorts, your chest on fire from your choppy breathing.

“Please, Joel”, you whined, grinding your ass back into him and moving your hips in slow circles, spurring him on. “I want you to make me feel so good like you always do”.

You were back to guiding Joel’s hand past the waistband of your shorts, into your underwear where he could feel how wet you were for him. He groaned, the vibrations from it making your skin tingle. An almost non-existent fuck was whispered as Joel’s hand found your soaking cunt, his deft fingers sliding through your folds.

When you removed your hand from his, letting him take charge, he hesitated. But when his thumb found your clit and you moaned, throwing your head back, he continued, not stopping for even a second.

“This good?”, he asked, as he teased your hole with his thick digit, pulsing the finger in and out, just enough to taunt you with pleasure and then rip it away when it felt too good. It was frustrating but you figured you somewhat deserved it for the fight from earlier.

You hummed, “Mo-more”, and you bucked into his hand, gyrating against it as you searched for more friction.

Joel sucked the pulse on your neck hard and you groaned, your head rolling to the side in pure ecstasy as he licked the spot when he pulled away. Fulfilling your command, he continued to work you over, work you to the edge. Your moans mixed with the sound of his finger, which soon became two fingers, pumping into you, a squelching emanating from you with every pump.

He was stretching you out, trying to prep you for his cock. Even this far into the relationship you needed some prep, he was that big. But you wouldn’t want it any other way. You loved his size and his girth and how deep he could go.

“Can you come for me, darlin’?”, Joel asked, as a groan slipped past his lips.

You flinched when his fingers curled, bringing you back to the moment as a tingle started low in your belly, the pressure building and building until it was too much, it was all too much.

“Fuck—”, you cried, cutting yourself off as your orgasm slammed into you, making you see stars. It was searing and hot and violent.

Your hips stuttered as they rocked into Joel’s hand, finding comfort in the fact that he was still lazily pumping into you, helping you ride out the aftershock.

“That’s my good girl”, he praised, thumb whispering over your swollen clit. You whined from the added pressure, feeling another orgasm start to build.

You had just cum and yet Joel was ready and willing to give you another one. Even when his engorged cock was nestled into your back, twitching with the need for his own release. He wanted— no, needed to give you your pleasure before he could seek out his own. Joel teased your clit again, pinching it as you yelped.

He removed his hand from your underwear and brought it to his mouth. You still weren’t facing him but you could hear the obscene sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked his fingers clean of your juices, not letting a drop go to waste. Fuck, you were so turned on already it was positively insane.

Joel gripped your waist and turned your body toward him, positioning himself so that he was slotted in between your legs, his upper body resting on his forearms, so as to not crush you with his body weight. Both of your chests were heaving at this point as another shot of excitement and arousal shot through you.

You brought a hand to Joel’s cheek, thumbing over his scruff and savouring this tender moment between the two of you.

“I’m sorry”, you said, swallowing your nerves.

In the softness of the moonlight, Joel’s eyes glimmered when they looked down at you. It wasn’t quite lust or amusement in them, but something else, something closer to love and adoration.

He dipped his head down and kissed you. It was tempered and subdued but sweet as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance into your mouth. You granted it to him, letting him explore your mouth like it was the first time. A swallowed-up moan left you and Joel pulled back.

“Me too”.

It was simple and yet he meant it with his whole heart, you were certain of that. Picking up where you left off, Joel palmed your breast through your— his shirt, making you tremble beneath him. He pinched your nipple and it made you arch your back off the bed, both to escape and chase that feeling.

“Let’s get this shirt off, hmm?”, Joel mused, playing with the hem of it. You nodded and lifted your upper body off of the bed as he helped you out of it, tossing it somewhere behind him.

“Your turn”, you said, almost breathlessly, and Joel obliged. He sat up on his knees and stripped himself of his own shirt.

You couldn’t help but pause and appreciate him and his physique. He wasn’t insanely built like an athlete or someone who stuck to a strict diet all so that they could get a six-pack. Joel’s body was sculpted from years of manual labour and although some might not be turned on by a broad chest and a toned stomach, you certainly were, and you were enamoured by it.

Your hand seemed to have had a mind of its own because you were raking your fingernails along his chest and stomach, drawing a line all the way down to his waistband. You watched as his muscles tensed from your touch, his eyes snapping shut like he had to concentrate on restraining himself.

Your hand remained on his waistband, your index finger playing with the dark line of hair that led all the way past the pants and to the straining member, you knew awaited you.

“If you don’t quit staring at me like that, darlin’, this might be over before either of us want it to be”, he drawled, quiet and low.

Your eyes snapped to his, which were dark and endless pools filled with lust. He looked like he was ready to devour you and your thoughts came to life when he gripped your thighs forcefully and spread them apart, making quick work of peeling you out of your shorts and drenched panties.

Joel groaned above you, “Such a pretty pussy, and ‘s all for me, ain’t she?”. He bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you jump. But you didn’t go very far, his grip on the back of your thighs holding you close to him and keeping you in place.

You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to hurry up, “All for you”, you whine.

Joel chuckled, but didn’t tease you for much longer, answering your silent prayer as he dove into your cunt, lapping and sucking like he was a man starved. You writhed beneath him as he continued, not letting up as he brought you to the edge of another orgasm.

“How you feelin’, baby?”, Joel asked, as he came up for air. You nodded fervently, feeling like you could die if he didn’t continue what he was doing.

He chuckled as he went back in, the vibrations making your head swirl and your toes curl at the sensation of his tongue fucking into you. You were so close it hurt and Joel could tell.

He shushed you before bringing his thumb to your clit and massaging it in tandem with his tongue, making you mewl and bury your hands in his short hair, pulling at his scalp as you begin to grind yourself on his face, practically riding him as you chase your high.

“I’m gonna—”, and you do.

You cum hard and quick, this orgasm ripping into you like a hurricane. The blinding wave of pleasure had all of your inhibitions clouded, as a light buzz started coasting through your body, leaving you sated. Your mouth is agape, a mix of a whimper and a shrill moan escaping you.

You felt as though you had just run a marathon, your body was on fire and yet there was a calm as you came down. You revelled in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling drunk off of it. There was a slick layer of sweat that coated your whole body, but you didn’t seem to care. Your mind was quiet as you listened to your breathing, your heart hammering below the surface.

Running a hand through your hair, you felt the mattress dip when Joel shifted his body weight, his beard glistening with your slick. You reach down and grab his face with both hands, bringing him to your lips. You groan when you taste yourself on him, the tang fueling your growing desire to be filled deep with him.

Joel murmured something against your lips but you couldn’t hear, your heart beating too loudly. “What?”, you asked.

“I need to be inside of you”, he whispers again, and you moan as he ruts into your bare core.

“Then do it”, you said, looking at him through hooded eyes.

Joel bit his lip, shaking his head as he stripped out of his jeans and then his boxers. His dick was thick and angry, the tip a bright red as it leaked pre-cum. You followed a drop with your eyes as it trailed down the shaft and you licked your lips at the sight.

Joel chuckled, the noise shooting straight to your needy core. You sat up slightly, reaching out for his cock but he stopped you, “Not tonight, sweet thing”, he stated, “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last if you start suckin’ me off”.

You keened at his words, desperate for some sort of relief. You snaked your hand from the pillow all the way down your chest, rubbing your nipple as you moaned, Joel’s eyes never leaving you. His eyes on you felt right, like you were putting on a show just for him, and in a way, you were. He watched your hand slide lower down your stomach and finally disappear between your legs.

“Goddammit”, Joel hissed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “What’d I just say?”.

He ripped your hand away from your aching cunt, pining it above your head as punishment. You let out a choked sob, “Please...”.

Joel’s cock twitched against his stomach at your plea, and he released you. He gripped his length and tugged harshly, letting beads of pre-cum dribble all over his hand.

You watched him throw his head back as he panted above you, finding a rhythm. As you opened your mouth to whine and tell him that you needed him, he grabbed the back of your legs and folded you in half, thrusting his hard cock into your pussy.

The force of him slamming his cock inside of you without much warning was enough to make you cry out. You couldn’t focus on much more than the pleasure that he could provide. It was as if you could never be fully satisfied, not when it came to Joel. You would always want him as desperately as he wanted you, each and every time. His hips snapped into yours, almost to the point of pain as he set a demanding pace, burying himself deeper and deeper into you.

“So”. He grunted with a thrust. “Fucking”. Another snap of his hips. “Needy”. Thrust.

Joel was never one to deny you, and you knew that. You might have been needy but he was willing to give you whatever you needed. And most times, all you needed was him. Him and that fucking delicious cock. So, he made sure he delivered you another orgasm. You chased your release, the desire striking you like a bolt of lightning— fast, powerful, and all-consuming.

It started in your toes and rushed in. Joel’s thick cock pumped in and out of you hungrily. He was both providing you with another orgasm and trying to find his own release. Each thrust was more punishing than the last, each angle hitting the right spot, and guiding you both to your release.

“That’s it, baby”, he groaned, manhandling you until you were basically straddling him, his hands on your back, holding you steady.

“Can you gimme another one?”, Joel purred into your ear as he fucked up into you, his hips losing their rhythm and you knew he was close.

“I’ll try”, you said, snaking a hand in between your bodies, and rubbing your cunt in time with each pound of his hips.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good”.

He barely finished his sentence before you were shaking in his arms, finding your orgasm from his praise.

Drunk on only two orgasms, you didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, too sensitive and too sated at the same time, “Mmm, love when you make me come”.

Joel laughed with adoration as he continued fucking you, chasing his own release. “And I love makin’ you come, darlin’”.

You felt your walls clamp around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. With a final few pumps, he groaned, letting his head fall against your shoulder. Joel tensed slightly and his body shook as he deposited ropes of cum deep into you.

Your head lolled to the side, feeling his body grow slack against yours. His was flush against you, trying to control his breathing as you did the same, your arms wrapped around him as you stroked his back.

A long moment of comfortable silence passed before he lifted his head up, scanning your face. You smiled tiredly at him as he kissed you, letting the bliss wash over you both.

Joel kissed your forehead and slipped out of you. You in turn whined at the loss of being full of him. Your limbs were heavy as you melted into the mattress, feeling Joel collapse next to you. His arm drifted around your waist, pulling you into his side.

He kissed your temple affectionately, “‘m sorry about our fight”.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I know”, you bit your lip, contemplating your next words, “I just worry that one day we’ll really get into it and you’ll never come back”.

Joel stiffened for a moment, before he turned to you, whispering into your hair, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout that ever, darlin’. Because I’ll always be here in the morning”.

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gr1mstar · 3 months

Text

Timeless lover

notes: i don’t know why but tumblr is just annoying. when i try to edit things they disappear and just… the algorithm is shit. i thought i’m shadowbanned but i don’t think so anymore. whatever, i hope things get better.

content: sukuna ryoman x f!reader, reincarnation, past lovers, curse words (not a lot of them), sfw, human sukuna (from that time when he was actually human), flashbacks, lovers to strangers, mentions of death, sick reader (in the past), sorcerer reader (present time), sukuna has sentiments?, sukuna is soft for reader, past sukuna looks kinda like itadori yuji, not the same tho, but very similar, mention of pills, slightly an au because sukuna will never be this nice, reader is older than yuji but sukuna is older? that makes sense? mentions of blood.

word count: 1.9k

i also have an official masterlist, so check it out here

also now we have a part 2 - here

all your life you felt a very strong sensation of deja vu that you could not explain. you tried meditation, yoga, different activities you thought you were never able to do - but the feeling was still there. so you had to live with it, even though it bugged you every day.

“remember me, because i will never stop searching for you.”

after you discovered you were a jujutsu sorcerer a few years back, you thought that all the things finally were in their place, but you were wrong. after you discovered the world of curses, you started having dreams.

"nightmares" you would tell other people when they asked, but for you, they were never nightmares. a nightmare was supposed to describe an ugly monster, someone evil with blood thirst, so why were you dreaming about a charming man with a beautiful smile and enchanting red eyes?

at first, these dreams were strange, short, and out of context, but then they started to take shape, lasting longer, and having a coherent narrative thread. but you still haven't managed to figure out who that man was. it was strange really, dreaming about someone you hadn’t even met before. you felt a connection with him, your heart telling you that you have to be close to him, but your mind was telling you to run.

you thought you were going crazy at some point. you remembered every single detail from every single dream, but deep down you enjoyed your little “nightmares”, because unconsciously you were waiting for your man with red eyes. you were waiting for him to come back to you, even though you never met him.

they were different every time, the dreams. but one thing was the same in all of them.

him.

the eyes that looked at you lovingly, his soft voice when he was speaking with you, a hand over your waist just to keep you close. you never knew his real name, always calling him nicknames and him calling you ‘princess’.

“kuna, come here!” you shouted, making a hand gesture at the man. he smiled when looking at you, making his way over.

he took a seat beside you, under the cherry blossom tree. the spring season just started and the scenery looked breathtaking. blue clear sky, pink petals, and red, beautiful eyes.

“why are you here so early, princess? you were supposed to rest,” he stated, his hand making his way to your hand, playing with your delicate fingers. you could see he was concerned.

but why? you did not remember. that was the moment you woke up and that was all you recalled. but now, every time you saw a cherry blossom tree you thought about the sweet dream you had.

“kuna, you think we will be together forever?” you recalled telling him one day when the two of you were cuddling under the well-known tree. he was reading a book with one hand, the other playing with your hair.

“i’m sure, princess, that we will. i’ll make sure of that” was his reply, smiling sweetly at you.

“they don’t give me that much time, though.”

you were slowly dying, or better said, your dream version was. the few dreams you had about this were very sad and painful, a strong feeling of recognition being present in your gut.

“when i’m no more, please take good care of yourself.”

the dreams started being more unsettling, more dark, and very apathetic. you started taking pills just to be able to sleep a few hours a day, but after some time you stopped taking them, not working anymore.

and so when gojo satoru asked for your help regarding a cursed object, you agreed.

‘maybe working hard on this boring thing will make me sleepy enough.’ you thought on your way to tokyo, ready to help the handsome sorcerer who proposed the mission. it was not your cup of tea, but knowing him, he would never shut up about that and in the end, you would still help him.

“you remember the first time we met?” he asked, taking a small piece of your hair in his hands, and proceeding to kiss it a moment after.

“you mean the time when you almost killed me?”

“fuck, you know i regret that princess.” he hissed, leaning forward to brush a flower petal that was stuck in your hair clip. “just pretend that was not the first time we met.” he continued, looking away.

you giggled softly, taking his big hands into your cold ones. it was summer now, but you were getting colder as the days went by. you lover was concerned, but he had enough hope that a miracle would happen and make you healthy again.

you never believed in hope.

“how can i do that, my love? that was the time i fell in love with you.” was your response, now your turn to kiss his knuckles.

“i still find myself asking how such a wonderful person as you fell in love with a crazy and broken person like me.” the red-eyed stranger muttered, letting his head rest on yours.

“maybe because i’m too, crazy and broken.”

as you walked your way to jujutsu high, a school that took you under their wing to teach you how to control your power, memories started flowing inside of your head. unfortunately, you had to move right after graduating and never had the time to stay in touch with your childhood friends: shoko, satoru, and… suguru.

you felt bad for what happened because you weren’t there for them and chose to leave them behind when they needed someone to cry to. you would never forgive yourself for that.

“yo, [name]. long time no see.” a white hair shouted in your direction.

“indeed, gojo. i would say i missed your crackhead ass, but i would be lying,” you responded to your long friend, making your way to him to hug him. letting his infinity down, he took you into his arms, spinning you a few times,

“relentless as usual, it's good to know that you haven't changed at all” he added, putting your weight down back on the drown. “still having problems with sleep?”

“yeah. stopped taking the pills too, made the dreams worse.”

“tell shoko that, she started having the same problem.” was his response, but he continued, never letting you adventuring further into the conversation. “let’s go to yaga, i’m sure he is waiting for us. also, you need to meet megumi, he heard a lot about you.”

“i hope good things-” you asked, but seeing gojo’s face making a grin you let out an annoyed sigh, “satoru!”

“good things, very good things. the only thing i told him was that you were in love with sakura flowers.” he laughed.

“you look so funny, ‘kuna” you giggled, eyeing the handsome man in front of you.

“you and your damn flowers, my love. when did you have time for this?” ‘kuna asked, taking his flower crown from his head and putting it on his lap.

“last night. i thought about your pretty pinkish hair and how the sakura flowers would look through it.” was your answer, making your way to steal a kiss from him.

”i wish i could look at this every day and night.” you continued, looking at his frame with admiration and affection.

“be my wife”

“what?”

“be my wife. fuck it, no. be my queen,” he repeated himself, placing the flower crown that stood on his lap onto your hair. he made you speechless. his what?

the high school was packed with kids, remembering you about your childhood before becoming a full-time sorcerer. you and megumi had the task to identify where the cursed object was and bring it back to the principal. simple as that, right?

“fucking hell, where the fuck is this thing?”

it was not simple. not at all. you spent almost all day looking for what? a finger? you regretted coming back to tokyo now.

“cheer up. we will find it.” megumi comforted you, giving you a soft look. he was right, you just needed to look a bit more.

“i don’t want to die” you confessed, looking down at your bloody hands.

deadly. you had a deadly sickness.

the cough you've had all your life suddenly got worse one day, and now, standing in your childhood bed full of blood you coughed up a few minutes ago, you could tell that it was not a pleasant sight at all.

you wanted your last moments to be at the cherry blossom tree, with your lover, watching over the moon at peace, not in your blood-covered bed surrounded by doctors and crying women.

‘please, god. give me strength to remain alive just enough to see my lover again. the beautiful man i fell in love with.” you prayed, closing your eyes and letting a tear glide down on your cold cheek.

the situation was very fucked up, the curses were everywhere and you and megumi had no idea where the cursed object was anymore.

earlier, you two met yuji itadori, a high school kid able to see curses, but now you did not know where he was either. you and megumi were separated and even though you searched for him you could find him anywhere.

‘maybe the roof?”

and so you got there, and oh man, you did not like the view. a gigantic, ugly-looking curse and yuji, in between his fingers. that was a moment your heart stopped for a minute, looking for megumi a few seconds later.

“megumi. where is the finger?”

“yuji. he has it” and at that moment, you saw something that you were never imagining to witness.

yuji ate the fucking cursed finger.

“sukuna” your voice was low, almost like a whisper.

“princess. what in the world happened? how? i-”

“no. ‘kuna, let me say goodbye-” you wanted to tell him, but the red-eye man in front of you interrupted you harshly, taking your cold hand in his warm one, giving it a lovely squeeze.

“no. i’m not going to accept that. what goodbye, my princess? you would not die.” he started lying to himself, almost too afraid to accept the situation.

“it’s not something new, sukuna. i knew this would happen eventually… so i’m not surprised. but i wish, for one thing, my love. please, let me wish for just one thing.”

there was a silence. now, in the peace of the night with your lover, you were obligated to give your last breath, and so you wanted no regrets.

“i love you. i will always love you and i will be born again. i know it’s selfish for me to ask this, god please forgive me, but i wish to be selfish one time in my life.”

the moon was shining bright on the black sky, and the stars were screening for another sister, ready to give her a peaceful death.

“sukuna… let me be your queen in my next life.”

looking now at the man in front of you, you could see a familiarity that yuji didn’t have before. yuji was yuji, but the yuji in front of you, even though he looked like himself, was not the high school boy you met earlier in the day.

red eyes.

the red eyes looked at yours with a familiar feeling, as if he already knew your eyes and had already looked into them a million times by now. the same eyes ‘he’ looked at you on your deathbed.

“sukuna”

the pictures were taken from pinterest

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realmofimagines · 1 year

Text

Don’t Make A Habit of Dying (Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader)

follow @cowboybxtch (my other account) for more ghost content, as i will not be posting on this blog anymore <3

Wordcount: 3241 Content: swearing, near death, graphic depictions of gore, blood, injury, ghost is in love with u, soap is oblivious, heroic ghost, pre existing relationsip, tension Request: no Note: *just wanna preface this by saying it is not proof read lol* i am absolutely unashamed to be jumping on the ghost bandwagon. i finished the campaign yesterday and honestly i sort of rushed through it bc it was a lot of fun so this is sort of based on one of the missions but it’s all from memory so if anything is wrong or out of place just ignore it and lets call it canon divergence AO3 version here

“Fox, how copy?”

You grunted, clawing at the rain-soaked concrete and grit beneath your fingers as you stretched to reach your communications device. Your head was still spinning from the impact, and your eyes blurred as if you were lying underneath a moving river staring at the wrinkled water surface above. A high-pitched whine resonates in your ears, and you are intensely aware of the urge to vomit.

With a sharp breath, you are able to level yourself onto your knees. Your hand closed around the slippery radio, and you pulled it toward your mouth whilst collapsing your back against a slick brick wall. Your free hand pressed against the sharp, pulsating pain in your abdomen.

“(Y/N), I repeat, how copy?” Ghost’s voice crackled.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, before pressing the voice activation button on the radio. The strong rush of adrenaline burned in your chest, but it didn’t match the wash of relief upon hearing and recognising Simon’s voice. You closed your eyes and relished in the sensation for a moment.

“I read you.”

He audibly sighed. “Thought I lost you there.”

“Nearly did.”

“You injured?”

You stared down and shakily inspected the palm pressed against your wound. Your fingers came away glistening with rain and blood, and your undershirt was soaked a deep red around the site of the injury. You replace your hand on the wound, applying as much pressure as you can muster with a heavily clenched jaw. As much as you wanted to be honest, you knew that due to the personal obligations Ghost felt toward you because of your secret relationship, letting him know just how hurt you truly were could compromise his position. He would, without a doubt, make his way straight toward you.

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not what I asked, Sergeant.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Good. Are you in sight of the church?”

You blinked hard to clear your vision and glanced around your surroundings. Through a rusted, paint-chipped iron gate, you could see the distant glow of the religious building and gathered that it was about half a mile away. You weren’t sure how much steam you had left in the tank, but you sure as shit were going to use every last drop to get your ass to that church.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“We’ll RV there. Johnny’s on his way now.”

“Copy that.”

“Do you have a weapon?”

You fumbled with your gear, cursing to yourself when you found nothing but empty holsters. All that remained on your person was a singular, small combat knife hidden within your boot, and you silently thanked yourself for taking such precaution.

“A knife.”

“That’s all you need. Stay safe, Fox.”

“Sure, Ghost.”

You released the radio trigger and clipped it back onto the front of your tactical vest. With a deep breath, you managed to pull yourself to your feet with the solid support of the brick wall. Your bloodied hand mixed with the rain, dripping down your chilled fingers and spreading the blood down your arms. You looked like a damn mess. You felt like a damn mess.

You first attempted to push through the iron gate but found it chained and padlocked from the other side.

Never the easy way, you murmured to yourself.

Turning back on yourself, you stumbled through a fruit market. Bruised and trampled limes and apples rolled across the puddled floor, seemingly abandoned in a hurry rather than packed away in their crates. Upon leaning on a stall for aid, you noticed that the civilians, presumably the shopkeepers, had been shot dead in their stalls. It was bloody and gruesome and told the tale of just how relentless the military-for-hire group were.

Your wobbly vision was clouded, and your lashes were thick with rain droplets concentrated with the blood dripping from your head. Your lips and fingers were icy cold, and each breath felt like the air was taking shots at your lungs like they were punching bags. You pressed onwards, however, knowing that if you wanted a chance at living that you needed to make it out of the Shadow’s web, and you could only do so by pushing yourself forwards.

The detour through the fruit market leads you to a couple of Shadow mercs, who chatted idly amongst themselves as if they weren’t standing upon the consequences of their war crimes. Families, including children, cried and screamed in the distance. Gunshots followed, and you tried not to flinch against the sound.

The mercenaries were armed, and they were blocking the only route you had. There was no easy way around this, but you had to improvise given your lack of weaponry and physical power. Your body was betraying you, and try as you might, you’d never be able to take these men in your current situation.

You tossed a beer bottle down the alleyway, hoping to distract them enough to get the upper hand. The left merc stubbed out his cigarette with a sizzle under his boot, before trailing down in the direction of the smashed glass in pursuit of the sound. Noticing your chance, you steadily crouch-walked your way over to the lone hostile and plunged your knife into his side and then into his neck.

“Just an empty bottle. It’s nothing,” the other merc stated, then turning on his heel with a final glance at the broken glass before he whipped his head around with a double take to notice his friend in a gargling heap on the floor, and you standing above him. “What the fuck?!”

He raised his gun toward you, leaving you no choice but to slam straight into him to throw off his aim. His gun flew upwards as he pulled the trigger, spraying an arc of loud, bright bullets into the air whilst you attempted to disarm him. He retaliated with a hard shove, though not before you were able to get your hands on the pistol in his hip holster. You flew to the ground with a thud and splash, but before he had the chance to regain composure and take aim at you again, you’d blasted two rounds into his chest, and then his throat. He collapsed on top of you in a heavy heap.

Another soldier rounded the corner, but you didn’t quite have the energy to recognise the threat before it was a second too late.

You were just lucky that Soap barged through the cafe door on your left and took him down with a clean shot straight through the temple. He turned his gaze from the man on the floor after confirming his death and reached over to you on the ground. He heaved the dead mercenary off of your chest and offered you a strong hand. You grabbed onto him and groaned as he yanked you upright, a firm hand on your shoulder to steady you as you fell towards him. With a concerned eye, he straightened you with a gentle nudge.

“Christ, Fox,” Soap murmured, eyeing the wound on your side. You immediately clutched at it defensively. “You’re not lookin’ so hot.”

You wheezed a breath and mustered a smile. “I’m running on fumes, but I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to that church.”

“Aye, Sergeant. I’ll take front.”

“Be my guest.”

You trailed sloppily behind Soap, cursing yourself for your inability to be as sharp as you usually were. You hated being a burden, but you hated letting the team down more. Your carelessness in the fight that broke out with Graves had cost you a life-threatening injury in a team that refused to leave anybody behind, even if it got them killed. You only worried that if you weren’t going to make it, you wouldn’t be able to see Simon before you went and that you wouldn’t be able to tell him you were sorry.

Your heart ached at the thought.

You and Ghost had been dating, briefly. It happened slowly. First, there were inside jokes, and then there were gentle teasing pet names, and then more than friendly touches… until one night the tension seemed to break, and you slept together, which was just a week ago now before everything went to shit. You almost regretted doing so, for fear that now you’d never get to see him again, to touch him again.

You stumbled to your knees and caught yourself barely by planting your hand solidly on the gravelled floor. Soap spun around and cursed under his breath before reaching for his radio.

“Ghost, we have a situation here.”

He leaned forward and grabbed at your biceps, throwing your arm over his soldier for support.

“What situation?”

“Fox was WIA,” he grunted with a low voice, pulling your body towards cover as a squadron of Shadows passed by in pursuit of the gunshots from only a few moments prior. Any second now, they would find the bodies and be alerted of your presence.

“Don’t piss around the bush, Johnny. How bad?”

Soap studied you with an uneasy glance. “We’re gonna need backup if we’re gonna get the lass outta here.”

“What’s your location?”

“Uh—” Soap paused and checked for any noticeable landmarks. “We’re at the coffee shop just a ways from the fruit market—”

“Hang tight. I’m on my way.”

“What about the RV?”

“Stay put, Serg.”

“Yes, sir.”

The distance from the church to the market was about ten minutes, but Ghost cleared the distance in about four. His eyes were cold and steely behind his mask but became soft and expressive upon noticing your strained face and bloodied abdomen. He was gentle when he leaned for you.

“Jesus Christ, Fox,” he murmured, his tone an edge softer than usual. He leaned toward you to help stabilise you on your feet and apologised under his breath when you yelped in pain. “Who did this to you?”

You grunted and leaned against one of his large arms for support. You blinked the rainwater away from your eyes and maintained eye contact with him. Even now, at a time like this, you felt your stomach flip. You were so in love with him and that somehow made everything scarier.

“One of Graves’ boys. Not sure who. Didn’t get a good look before I killed him.” You answered.

“Atta girl,” Ghost praised. Your heart clenched.

Soap stared on with a worried look, his back tense with stress.

“Hold up,” Soap said, raising a fist before lifting his gun to level his eyes with the sights. mercenaries stormed past the windows, and there was a sudden series of heavy bangs on the cafe door that Soap had barricaded with bar stools. “We’ve got company, Ghost.”

Ghost nodded, and then turned to you with an urgent look in his eyes. “Can you walk?”

You cringed at the stabs of pain and clenched your jaw. “Simon, I’m a liability. Leave me here and I can hold them off—”

“I am not leaving you here!”

You blinked in shock at the intensity of his tone. His eyes beyond the mask seemed desperate, and he clutched your face in a gloved hand as if uttering his silent pleas through his palm. You truly believed him and his words, for there was no reason for a man like himself to lie to you at a time like this.

“I said, can you walk?”

You nodded stiffly.

“Then let’s fucking walk,” Ghost answered, tossing your arm over his shoulder to carry the most of your body weight as he essentially dragged you toward the exit point of the cafe. His other hand gripped his pistol so hard that his knuckles began to numb beneath his glove. “Cover us, Johnny!”

Soap tailed your backs with a raised gun, and Ghost was just able to tug you out of the door before the hostiles blasted through and started swarming the place with bullets. Ghost seemed to lug you along with desperation, as you were practically limping at this point.

“You stupid girl, getting me all worried like this,” he cursed, turning briefly to shoot one of the incoming adversaries before continuing onwards. “Do you know how lucky you are that I’m here?”

He was acting characteristically sharp and dry, but you knew that it was just to glaze over his worry. Ghost didn’t often lose his cool, but you were certainly shaking his faith. You couldn’t judge him for his words and simply offered a weak smile in response.

You heaved a laugh. “Let’s just say I owe you one.”

He seemed to soften. “Let me take you to dinner when this is all over. Call it even.”

“It’s a date,” you wheezed, your words accompanied by laboured breaths. The pain was intense and radiated in waves of white-hot pulses and aches that made you limp and shudder in the agony. Your feet and hands were starting to feel numb, and your head felt like it was full of TV static. You just needed a short break, and then you would be able to continue.

You began tripping over your feet, and albeit he tried to keep you upright, Ghost’s strength wasn’t enough to counter the sudden push of gravity as you slumped to the floor.

“(Y/N)!”

Your face was white, and your eyes rolled back. He was immediately at your side, grabbing your face in his hand to inspect your breathing, and then the pulse on your neck with fingers that he’d torn a glove from. He was momentarily relieved when he felt the feedback of your heart, regardless of how faint it was. It was enough to keep going, to revive the easily extinguishable flicker of hope.

Soap rounded the corner, seeming urgent as he fired shots down the alleyway.

“Ghost, they’re gaining on us!”

“Shit!” He cursed.

Without a second thought, he unsheathed his pistol and handed it over to Soap who took it without question. Simon scooped his arms under your legs and back and held you securely to his chest before nodding at his comrade.

“You keep us safe. That’s an order, Serg.”

“Sure, LT, but we need to get a move on— now.”

“Let’s go!”

You jostled in and out of consciousness. It was soft and gentle, like a slow beat of butterfly wings. You would open your eyes momentarily, but there wasn’t enough adrenaline supply in the world to keep you awake, and things would quickly return to darkness. Your grasp on reality started to slip when the blood loss became critical, and the only thing you were aware of was the bruising grip Ghost had on your flesh and the overwhelming fear that you were about to die.

You vaguely notice the sensation of cold marble on your body, and then the tightness of gauze and tape being wrapped around you.

Ghost was manic as he watched your pale, lifeless body show little to no reaction to his movements. He’d torn your battle vest off and inspected the damage beneath your vest. He’d swallowed his anxiety and wrapped you up as best he could with what little supplies himself and Soap had scrounged from the village and proceeded to perform CPR on you when he noticed your breathing had come to an abrupt stop.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You couldn’t move.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Crack.

A blooming pain in your ribs.

A warm press of lips on your own, and the uncomfortable sensation of being filled with air.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The thrum of helicopter blades. Distant shouting. Ghost’s voice.

Ghost’s voice.

“Simon…?”

——

When you next woke, it was a slow and unpleasant sensation. White, fluorescent lights pierced through your eyelids, which felt heavy to open. The sharp sensation of the gunshot in your side felt dull, and you could tell by the swimming sensation in your head that you were drugged. You vaguely recognised the sound of a beeping monitor, and you flinched. The smell of bleach filled your nose.

“Good mornin’, sunshine.”

Your eyes fluttered open, wincing against the harsh ceiling lights. You turned your gaze to the figure hunched over in a small brown chair— a heavily-built man, adorning a balaclava with a skull painted on it. Ghost.

“Simon.”

“(Y/N).”

You attempted to lift yourself into an upright position, and immediately felt a flare of agony that had you coughing out a broken sob.

“Hey, hey, take it easy there, Fox,” Ghost murmured, immediately reaching forwards to settle you back down. You grit your teeth together and blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears that were born from the shock of the pain. He tried to sit back down, but you caught his gloved hand before he could leave and he didn’t have the heart to pull away. His stature immediately softened, and his thumb smoothed over your fingers and knuckles in an attempt to comfort you.

“They outta put more drugs in you. They sure did a number on you. Surprised you’re still with us.”

“I thought I was going to die.”

Simon huffed through his nose and tugged the chair closer so that he could sit beside you and hold your cold hands in his. “I thought you were, too, sweetheart.”

“How the Hell did you get me out of there?”

You couldn’t see it, but by the wrinkle of his eyes, you knew he was smirking. “This old dog still got his ways.”

A concern suddenly popped into your head as bits and pieces of memories began to slot together. “And Soap?”

“He’s fine, unfortunately.”

You smiled gently, feeling yourself relax a little. You turned to him and held his gaze, suddenly feeling intimidated by his sharp eyes. The heart monitor next to your bed began to beep at an increased pace, and your cheeks flushed.

Ghost seemed bemused. “Am I makin’ you nervous, darlin’?”

You buried your face in your hands and only dared to peek through your fingers when you heard him start to laugh.

“Don’t hide from me just yet. You still owe me a date.”

You threw your hands down to your sides and smiled. “Look who’s gone all soft. I wonder what the boys would think of you right now.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret saving you.”

“Don’t kid yourself, LT, you loved playing hero,” you retorted, a glimmer of mischief sparkling through your grin. You suddenly felt the atmosphere become slightly tense and heavy with the weight and reality of the situation. You could’ve and likely should’ve died back there. You weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to remember just what Ghost and Soap went through to get you out, but you could only imagine.

“Thank you, Simon.” You said, more serious this time.

He glanced away as if embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

You reached closer and grabbed his masked face. In private, he would remove his balaclava just for you. You felt the selfish desire that he would do so just now so that you could kiss him but swallowed your urges for you knew he couldn’t compromise himself in the med-bay. Too many prying eyes.

He grabbed your hand from his face and kissed it, the warmth and pressure of his lips still present even through the fabric on his face. You were butter in his touch, practically melting through his fingers.

“Just don’t make a habit of nearly dying, you hear me? Nearly gave me a bastard heart attack.”

You smiled, staring at him dazedly. “Yes, sir.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #x reader #angst #injury #pining #ghost is in love #soap mactavish #john mactavish

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suashii · 4 months

Text

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝐼𝒩𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝒲𝒪𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐿𝒜𝒩𝒟 — christmas-y and winter-esque activities with the hq boys !

info ⭑ includes: sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, & iwaizumi hajime ﾉ 2.2k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff

note ⭑ this is part two; you can find the first part here! also considering doing one more part with oikawa — anyone else you'd like to see?

❆ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

“woah!” your hand tightens around sakusa’s and the other flails in search of the railing you swore you were ready to let go just a minute ago. if your loss of balance is evidence of anything, it’s that the confidence you had built up in your ice skating was misplaced. when you suggested the activity a couple of days ago, you didn’t expect that it would be so troublesome.

“you okay?” sakusa speaks up to ask from beside you.

you carefully turn to face him. his cheeks are painted a rosy hue and the dark curls hanging over his forehead contrast the fluffy, white earmuffs situated atop them. just like he has been all night, sakusa’s steadily standing on the blades of his skates. the fact that you’re the only one struggling makes you frown. “if being moderately embarrassed is okay, then yes, i’m peachy.”

he smiles at your sarcasm but gives your gloved hand a comforting squeeze. a puff of cold air is visible as you let out a dramatic sigh. “how the hell are you so good at this anyway?”

still sure to hold your hand, sakusa glides along the ice so that he’s in front of you. his change in position makes you wobble a bit but you’re able to stay upright. “my sister used to take me when i was younger.”

the thought of a little sakusa being guided around the rink by his sister brings a small smile to your lips. you wonder what he was like back then—did he stumble and frantically look for aid or was he born with a natural talent on the ice? you’d like to think that he was once in your shoes but you wouldn’t be surprised to find out he excelled from the beginning.

sakusa can practically see the gears turning in your head. he can’t help but think you aren’t having as much fun as you thought you would on this outing, with all the staggering and whatnot. he’s no expert himself but he is skilled enough to make your time here more enjoyable. “give me your hand.”

you look at your hand gripping the railing and then back to sakusa. “this hand?”

“yes, that hand.”

you think about how you’ve been floundering like a fish out of water since stepping foot in the rink and grimace at the thought of further making a fool of yourself. you tell sakusa as much. “i think i’m good here. i’d rather not risk hitting the ice.”

“i’m not going to let you fall,” sakusa assures you, inching forward to lessen the gap between the two of you. he holds his unoccupied hand out to you and meets your eye. “trust me.”

your boyfriend is nothing if not a man of his word. with a nod to encourage yourself, you loosen your grasp on the metal pole. you falter for a brief moment after letting go of the railing but your balance is quickly regained when sakusa takes your hand in his.

you look at him with widened eyes and sakusa swears he can see sparkles in them. “i’m still standing,” you excitedly tell him through a smile.

“told you.” your smile is infectious and is mirrored on sakusa. “i’ll pull you forward now.”

the dark-haired man gives you no time to protest before he’s skating backward and dragging you along the ice with him. a high-pitched squeal marks your initial surprise but the wail turns to delighted laughter when you realize, for the first time tonight, that you’re actually skating. sure, it may be with the aid of sakusa giving you momentum and keeping you on your feet, but you’re more than happy to not be struggling anymore.

after a couple of laps around the rink, sakusa slows and lets you stumble into his chest. your less-than-graceful slump is cushioned by the fabric of his scarf. you wrap your arms around him and tip your chin up to look at him.

sakusa pulls you impossibly closer to him, leaving a kiss on your hairline before asking, “are you having fun?”

you hum, snuggling into him. “yeah. thank you, kiyoomi.”

❆ AKAASHI KEIJI

even with gloves pulled over your hands and a hat protecting the tips of your ears, the cold is beginning to get to you. you should have expected this much would be a consequence of being outside for so long, but upon seeing the fresh, untouched snow left in the courtyard of your apartment complex after getting home for the day, you couldn’t help but abandon your plans and beg akaashi to help you bring some festivity to the small community by building a snowman.

you’re busy rolling the ball of snow that will become its head and the wetness of the snow is starting to soak through your pants. the clothes you had worn to work aren’t suited for this sort of weather but once you’ve started something, you make it your mission to see it through until the end.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t ready to get into the warmth of your apartment and a pair of cozy pajamas, though.

you tasked akaashi with running upstairs to put your things inside and to retrieve some materials necessary for putting the finishing touches on your snowman. he seemed reluctant to leave you out in the cold at first but his drawn-out absence is starting to make you wonder if he’s taking a few extra minutes to warm up inside.

even thinking such a thought is enough to make you giggle to yourself under your breath. he would never consider leaving you in this bitter weather all alone if you didn’t ask him to. you’re not sure what’s taking him so long but you do know he’ll be back as soon as humanly possible.

you’re humming a tune to keep you distracted from the cold while you pack the snow into a ball.

the melody you’re vocalizing is interrupted by the sound of the external door opening. you don’t bother turning around to see who it is—people are constantly coming in and out of the building. you just hope no one looks at you strangely for constructing a snowman by yourself at this hour.

“don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

the proximity of the voice makes you flinch but you relax when you register that it’s akaashi’s. you clap the snow off of your gloves before standing up and turning around to see what he means.

“we’re almost d—” you start, but the sight ahead of you makes you stop in your tracks.

you expect to see the supplies you sent him to go get in his hands but two cups—the good ones he uses to take his coffee to work—are in his grasp instead. he holds one out to you, gently shaking it in a silent gesture to urge you to take it. “hot chocolate.”

you poke your lip out in a pout as you reach out with both hands to take a hold of the travel mug. through your gloves, you feel the heat of the metal. that combined with akaashi’s gesture are enough alone to warm you from the inside out. you bring the mug to your lips and take a cautious sip. the warm beverage on your tongue makes you sigh in delight. somehow, it's always better when akaashi makes it for you.

“good?” akaashi asks after taking a sip of his own.

“delicious,” you nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “and very much appreciated.” you see now what was taking him so much time upstairs. of course he was thinking of you and your wellbeing the entire time he was away. he’s often told you that you’re always on his mind and he’s made that much clear through the heartfelt action.

you hum when you realize that you sent him inside for things that weren’t hot chocolate. “did you get the other stuff, though?”

akaashi nods, unzipping his coat just enough to pull out the santa hat he tucked in there. you laugh as you take it from him. inside, he’s stuffed a scarf and a singular baby carrot. you look at him with a wobbly smile, jerking your head in the direction of the almost-finished snowman. “shall we?”

your teamwork makes the process go back twice as quickly and in almost no time, your festive snowman is complete. rocks make up his eyes and mouth, the tiny carrot his nose, and a couple of sticks shoved into the middle snow sphere act as his arms. one of your scarves is wrapped around his lack of a neck and he sports a santa hat atop his head.

the two of you snap a quick photo with your creation—one where akaashi pretends to eat his nose while you stand by and watch in shock—before hurrying back inside to cozy up in bed for the rest of the night.

❆ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

it doesn’t snow in california, not in irvine, at least. iwaizumi has only had to spend the holidays there once, but he vividly recalls how homesick he felt with the lack of snow that year. he’s never been a huge fan of it, but he’s grown a newfound appreciation for the wintery weather since then—so much so that he’s sure to enjoy some activities with you in it whenever he’s visiting home for the few weeks at the end of the year.

you’re usually more than happy to oblige because the activities are innocent and lighthearted enough. though, this year, the stakes seem to have risen.

you don’t remember the snowball fights in your childhood being this… intense. it had started harmlessly enough with the two of you playfully chucking the poorly packed masses of snow at each other but somewhere along the way, after you both started taking the game a little more seriously, you had run off to take cover from iwaizumi’s assault.

you’re stationed behind a tree now, on your knees and upping your supply of snowballs. it’s only a matter of time until he makes his way to your place in the park and you want to be prepared to fight back when he does. you may be his lover but you’ve learned quickly that the title doesn’t grant you immunity—he doesn’t plan on taking it easy on you.

the crunch of snow beneath boots makes your ears perk up. iwaizumi is close by and you don’t plan on getting caught like a deer in headlights. quietly gathering up your ammunition, you rise to your full height and take a deep breath before darting off in the opposite direction of the footsteps.

“hey!” iwaizumi’s voice rings throughout the air as he picks up his pace to chase after you. you must have abandoned your stealth tactic because you’re screaming like you’re being pursued by a maniac. if he wasn’t so hellbent on catching up to you, he’d be keeled over in laughter due to your theatrics.

as you run to nowhere in particular, you can hear balls of snow just missing you and falling flat on the ground. you wonder how many snowballs iwaizumi has wasted trying to sling at you in motion and if you'll have the upper hand soon. maybe it’s not the best idea to turn around while you’re running but you do so to see how close he is and to get a glimpse of how much snow he has left to throw.

you aren’t able to get a good look at either before your foot catches on something—likely a lump of snow—and you tumble to the ground. your fall knocks the breath out of you and you’re pretty sure you crush all of your snowballs upon landing.

“holy shit,” you faintly hear iwaizumi call out as he approaches. just a few seconds later, he comes to kneel down beside you. “you okay, babe?”

you are. nothing hurts too bad and you’re sure you’ll feel a little sore from your spill but it’s nothing to warrant worry. despite that, you’re willing to milk this for a little attention. you paint a look that you hope comes across as pain over your face. “it hurts.”

“where?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing with concern. “show me.”

weakly lifting your arm, you point to your lips. the concern drains from his face and is replaced by faux annoyance when he sees that you’re only messing with him. his swift change in reaction makes you grin but you don’t drop the act. “kiss please.”

iwaizumi plays along, not wasting a moment before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. the bitterness of the air has chilled both of your lips but they warm up in no time being pressed together like this. he pulls away just slightly to ask, “all better?”

“almost.”

he’s about to ask what you mean when chilly snow smashes against the side of his face. you throw your hands up in victory, earning an eye roll from the man hovering above you. “headshot, i win!”

salutations from sua! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #sakusa x reader #akaashi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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circeyoru · 2 months

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Surprise, Surprise, I’m Here to Watch = Requested

[Hazbin Hotel x 3 Powers Granted!Reader]

Did you think it was possible? No way. Did you embrace it? Oh yes baby

That random lamp you ordered off the internet to fill your cart to get some discount was not garbage. 3 wishes. Anything. Oh, you didn’t want immortality, no, living is a pain. Wealth, you’re not putting a target on your back. Perfect health, that’s like immortality, so no. More wishes, come on, don’t think you can lie your way with this. Don’t be greedy

“First one. Power to travel between universe, and I mean that as in non-fiction and fictional worlds. Second one. Shapeshifting powers, like I don’t want the pain that comes along as well if you can. Third one. Uhhh. Perfect stealth? Like no one will be able to know I’m here until I let them.”

“Are you sure you want to use all your wishes in one-go? I’ll be gone once it’s granted.” The genie blinked at the swiftness. Usually people would think forever or save them up for extreme cases

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up and grant me my wishes. I don’t imagine you like to entertain me for long anyways.” You waved the genie off and in a poof and a snap (should have been “A wap! Bam! Boom! Alakazam!”) you were granted those exact powers

Now being a hardcore shut-in addicted to all things fiction, you tested out your powers first to see if you were dreaming. Then you trained yourself a bit with them and tested their limits. In the meantime, you debated on which universe to go to officially. “Has to be Hazbin Hotel.”

You were obsessed, like majorly obsessed with the show. The moment news came about season 1, you prepared yourself and watched them first thing! You watched more than once, having to remember the lines and songs by heart. Nothing beats watching it unfold in real life or fiction life

Maybe it was because you were kind to the genie (being quick about your wishes) that when you traveled to other universes, time in the real world, your world stops until you’re back. You thanked the genie mentally and honest feel a bit guilty that you shooed them off so quickly. But you’ll make it up with fully using your powers

You figured out everything, a demon and angel form (check the ask) and when to go. You did like Lucifer’s entrance to the show. So why not episode 5? You snapped your fingers, opening a portal before you. You closed your eyes to imagine your demon form, a ring appeared over the top of your head and travelled down, shifting your form to what you pleased. Then you got your bag with your phone and charger and you were ready!

You activated your stealth before entering. Like some fanfiction written about the environment, it was that horrid. If you were in human form, you think you’d die like not even pass out but straight up die from inhaling whatever was in the air. You don’t think any human can survive a second here

Like when traveling to other universes, you weren’t where you wanted and have to travel around. You went straight for the Happy (Hazbin) Hotel, noting the various shops and demons around you, taking out your phone, you recorded your way to mark down locations since this was no longer a fictional place the moment you entered

While you shapeshifted into a demon, you can die. Your body acted on the laws of your world no matter where you went. Your powers of shapeshifting gave you the physiology of a demon and maybe some common powers that other demons have. That was if you traveled to this world first, during your testing period, you went to other worlds and ended up with other powers, though they can’t compare to the ones the genie granted you, it was still power. You can confidentially say you weren’t human anymore

Humming with interest, you climbed into the hotel lobby through an open window so as not to alert the demons inside. Well, you didn’t even need to when you saw everyone preparing for Lucifer’s arrival. You looked up to see Alastor’s annoyed look as he observed the situation in silence. Everything was on track

Delightfully, you recorded everything on your phone, keeping quiet as best you could. Even more excited when you found out that Alastor could be captured on your phone. You followed the plotlines as it was intended, but you have to say witnessing Alastor threaten Husk into silence was more terrifying than you thought. You almost dropped your phone from your shaking hands

You were tempted to help Husk, but you decided against it and went to where Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer would be. You watched everything for there onwards. Since that balcony would be the perfect place to record Alastor’s Radio Demon show. But you made it down in time to see Lucifer agreeing to get that meeting with Heaven

Before you followed the couple to Heaven, since there was time, you lazed around town without your stealth active. You had the pleasure of testing your demonic powers and appearance. Sinners and demons alike were hooked, you happily showed them not to mess with you. Soon rumours came about saying a mysterious demon was cruelly killing any that dares to address you. Perhaps you should have kept things on the down low

That little hiccup didn’t stop you from following Charlie and Vaggie to Heaven, you went as far as to appear angelic with another form to travel around without your stealth. It was safer in Heaven after all. You having more wings allowed you easy access to the courthouse as well, you seated gracefully among the other angels and watched the scene untold like the script

You noticed the angelic beings near you start to eye you questionably as you recorded the scene below you without a care, even giggling and chuckling at some moment like you were watching a show. Thing is, it was a show, they all were characters of another’s creation and they didn’t even know it! Your odd actions were nothing compared to the drama happening

Proved that you were only noticed officially when the song came to its end and your giggles were heard out and clear. Your wings fluttered as you stood in front of Charlie and Vaggie, the two smaller wings by the side of your head covering your face

You elegantlly mocked aloud, targeting at Adam and Lute. “I always wondered why angels were given a free pass to everything, including the use of unholy words like a demon and committing action like a demon. Perhaps,” Your smaller wings parted for your golden eyes to stare and glare at Adam, “You are the one that belonged in Hell instead of that poor soul.”

Enraged, Adam sent you three back to Hell with the threat that he’d attack the hotel first. Your wings hid your face again the moment you three were back in the hotel lobby. As Charlie remember you being sent to Hell with them, she turned to you to apologize, only to find you in demon form. Her eyes confused as you turned to look at her. “No harm done, princess. I was never a soul in that place anyways. I had to say something to that piece of work known as the first man.”

Using their shocked and confused moment, you actived your stealth before they could question you anything else. You was fun to watch them fret over your disappearance like you were a child and they a parent, you stuck around since the battle was drawing closer. You’d follow the plotline to go into Charlie’s room, but she needed her privacy and you only went when Vaggie did

Later on, you went with Charlie to Cannibal Town. You wanted to see Rosie! The lovely demon that only officially made her debut much later. You had to record the song as well, though you missed Camilla’s sadly. You also took note of the VoxTech drone that watched the scene, you couldn’t help but shot it out of the sky with a rock

When the battle happened, you were away from Alastor in the beginning and helped out behind the scenes, shooting down exterminators that breached the ‘front line’ or threatened to harm/kill Rosie’s people. You (for the first time) didn’t record a moment since it was intense and you didn’t want to accidentally die or get hurt

You nudged Niffty in Adam’s direction when it was sprouting nonsense that you want jump out your skin for. Then you recorded the stab moment. A scene that many loved after the episode was aired. There was another that you watched, Lucifer’s comment before his and Adam’s ‘fight’ began. You honestly couldn’t hold yourself and laughed like you did when you rewatched the episode so many times

Then you were moving in the speed of light to record their final song. Even going to Alastor’s destroyed tower to get his part. And you rushed back to to hotel later to get the rest of it. You had one hell of a leg work and accidentially dropped your stealth due to tiredness

“You’re that demon that was angel but not!” You heard Angel’s voice shouted and saw his four arms pointed at you.

“Yeah, I have a name, so…” You trailed off, wanting to not be in the spotlight, you’re honestly scared to be involve because the later seasons were not released and you didn’t want anything to be affected. “Bye?”

“No way! We’re celebrating with us!” Charlie quickly wrapped her arm to hook one of yours, Vaggie followed and stood on your other side as her girlfriend continued, “Don’t think I didn’t notice some exterminators falling and dying for no reason!”

Yeah, people saying Charlie was more powerful than she led on was right on the money, even in that chaotic scene she noticed your involvement

You sighed and gave in, no turning back now, “Fine. Fine. I guess I deserve some celebration too.”

Note: I’ll be completely honest, this one, I had no idea how to write. Plus it was different from what I usually write. This is more like a Reader Insert than anything. Hope you enjoyed it though!

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

Taglist: (requested individual)

@no1sillybilly

#SurpriseSurpriseI’m Here to Watch #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #Circe's requested writings #Circe's Nighty Writings #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

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natashatrace · 3 months

Text

birthdays || 12/365 || also on ao3

He’s thirteen and Mav buys him his first leather jacket.

There are patches on the sleeves already - old squadron patches that Mav’s collected, sewn into the fabric by his mother. Her smile is just as bright as Maverick’s, her laughter infectious as she squeezes Bradley in a hug.

“Isn’t it sharp, baby? Looks so good on you.”

“I love it,” Bradley gushes, turning to hug Mav for the third time since unwrapping the box. “Thanks, Mav. This is awesome.”

Mav’s eyes are shining, his hand ruffling through Bradley’s curls. “You’re welcome, Bradley. Happy birthday.”

He’s sixteen and Mav takes him up in the Mustang for the first time.

The sky feels like home. Bradley realizes he shouldn’t feel hurt anymore by Mav leaving so often — how could Mav be kept from this? How could anyone?

Bradley feels the phantom thrum of the controls underneath his hands. He can see his future, knows instinctively that this is where he’s meant to be.

“I’ll be a pilot,” Bradley says into the headset, confident despite the slight crack in his still-changing voice. “Just like you, Mav. No backseat for me. I’m gonna fly.”

“I know you are, kid,” Mav laughs, guiding them back toward the hangar. “Can’t wait to see it.”

He’s seventeen and he realizes his mom isn’t going to make it to his eighteenth.

She’s tired. So goddamn tired. Bradley wishes he could do more, but he isn’t prepared for this. All the time in the world couldn’t prepare him for this.

He’s living in a world that constantly refuses to equip him. It isn’t fair.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Carole whispers, smiling as best as she can manage, her frail fingers tangled with his. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” Bradley whispers, hugging her close. “I bet — I bet I’ll be able to hear you, y’know? Up in the sky. The way Mav hears Dad.”

With his head resting on her chest, he can’t see her expression, but he feels her fingers tighten around his reflexively.

“You don’t have to be in the sky to hear me, baby,” Carole says, and it’s the strongest her voice has sounded in weeks.

He’s nineteen and he’s alone.

Shitty food network reruns, cheap beer, the low thump of music from one of the apartments downstairs. There are messages on his answering machine that he’s ignoring and a card left in the mailbox downstairs.

“Happy birthday, Bradley,” he mumbles to himself, popping the tab on another can of beer. “What’s one more.”

He’s twenty-four and swaying in the middle of a dance floor, tequila thrumming through his veins, when the realization hits him.

He’s officially reached an age his father never did.

Bradley thinks he mumbles an apology to the girl he’s been dancing with, but he isn’t sure. He walks on unsteady feet to the bathroom, ducking into one of the stalls and slamming the door shut, resting his sweaty forehead against the metal as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

He doesn’t know what a Bradshaw man is supposed to look like at twenty-four. He’s never seen it. It makes his stomach roll. The tequila burns even more on its way back up.

He’s wiping his mouth with a towel at the sink when he catches sight of his own reflection, sweat shining on his skin and stubble grown in around his cheeks. He brushes his fingers over his top lip, scratching against the hair there, and distantly remembers the way his dad’s mustache would scratch against his cheek.

When he shaves the next morning, he leaves the hair on his top lip alone.

He’s thirty-two and there’s another card in his mailbox, but there’s a text from a new number this time, too.

Happy birthday, Bradley. Heard from Ice about Top Gun. Congrats.

Bradley reads the text multiple times throughout the day. Blocks the number. Unblocks it.

At 11:58pm, annoyingly sober and exhausted, he finally replies.

Guess I didn’t need your help getting here after all.

Maverick doesn’t text him again.

He’s thirty-six and officially retired from active duty. Maverick’s hangar has become a second home to him again, just like it was when his mom was at her sickest.

“I’m older than her now,” Bradley says quietly, seated on the couch and watching the sun as it sets over the desert. “You realize that? I’m officially older than momma ever was.”

“I know, kid,” Maverick says, reaching over to clink his beer bottle against Bradley’s empty one. “It’s a hell of a thing, huh? Feels — undeserved, almost.”

“Does it go away?” Bradley asks. “It hasn’t with my dad. Guessing it won’t go away with her, either, will it?”

Maverick smiles, meeting his eyes. “Not completely. But your parents - they’d be so proud of where you are now. You’ve given them a hell of a legacy.”

Bradley’s quiet for a bit, long enough for Maverick to grab another bottle for them both. He speaks again when Maverick’s settled back with his book.

“I’ve hated my birthday ever since Mom died,” Bradley says. “Tried to avoid it, usually. Preferred spending it drunk or alone.”

Maverick glances at him. “Well, you aren’t drunk. Certainly aren’t alone.”

“Nah,” Bradley says, shaking his head. “And this is the first time in years I haven’t wanted to be. It’s the best birthday I’ve had in years, Mav.”

Maverick grins. “Wanna make it better?”

“How?”

“My birthday gift.”

Bradley snorts. “You get me another jacket?”

(Because he still has the one Mav got for him at thirteen. Treasured it even when they weren’t speaking.)

“Better,” Maverick replies. “Thought I’d let you fly a loop in the Mustang.”

Immediately, Bradley’s jumping up and heading toward the plane to get her ready to fly. Maverick follows him, laughing the entire way.

The sky feels like home. And just like he thought, he hears his momma’s voice in the roar of the wind.

Don’t you look sharp, baby. Thirty-six looks good on you.

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #carole bradshaw #mywriting #daily2024 #reiverreturns #userbells #userfrench

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mrwavellswaps · 6 days

Note

Possess, Hypno, TF:

Ched Uzor, Dane de Bruin, Brandon Harding

😘😘

Mmmmm three incredibly hot options here. All ones I’ve thought about a lot so it’s gonna be difficult to decide between them but I’ll do my best 😈

First of all I think I’ve gotta Possess Ched Uzor. I mean come on how could I not!? He’s an absolutely massive hunk of a man who’s tall as fuck and has biceps that look bigger than his own head. Speaking of which, he’s incredibly handsome with strong masculine features and a great beard which I always love in man. Not to mention I’d love getting to become someone of a different race and getting to see what it’s like to be an enormous black stud. All that said, how could I possibly resist stealing all that??

I would probably wait until he’s at the gym to do it. Hopefully at a time where there isn’t too many other people around to see what I’m about to do. Then when he least expects it I’ll jump straight into his body. Running up to him and allowing myself to slip inside his body like a ghost. He’d probably grunt and convulse for a moment as I takeover but it won’t be long until I’ve suppressed Ched’s consciousness and assume full control of his hulking body. From there it’ll be a challenge to not get a massive boner with my new fat black cock in the middle of the gym while I finish off his workout. But knowing me I probably won’t be able to resist slipping into the changing room cubicles or the gym showers to bust a huge nut.

Now as for who I’d hypnotise, once again it’s a very tough choice between Brandon and Dane. Both are hot hunks that I would love to have under my control. However I think I just have a tad bit of bias towards Dane. Anyone that’s followed me and my stories for awhile will know why. In the end I can see myself using Ched’s influence and identity to get into contact with Dane to set up a meeting and gym session the two of us can do together for Instagram.

Once the two of us meet up however, instead of shaking Dane’s hand, I’ll grab his head and immediately implant the hypnosis inside of him. Watching as his expression goes from shocked, to dazed, to blank as his eyes glaze over and his body relaxes. His mind and free will crumbling at my touch and permanently turning him not only into my perfect gym parter but my personal fuck toy as well to test out Ched’s cock on. Or rather my cock heheh

But that said, it looks like I’m going to be transforming Brandon Harding. Once again I’d probably use my new online status as Ched to get ahold of him and as soon as I do I know exactly what I’m gonna do. Brandon is of course a huge muscle monster as well like Ched. Dare I say he might be even bigger. However that won’t be the case for much longer. As soon as Brandon and and meet, I’ll plant a secret little bit of transformative magic inside his body that’ll activate as soon as he falls asleep. When he heads home or to a hotel later that day, he’ll find himself yawning excessively until he falls asleep on the couch.

That’s when it’ll happen. All of that huge ridiculous muscle will begin to shrink and soften as a mild layer of fat takes its place. He still retains some muscle but now he’ll look more thick than buff. However I’ll make sure to a little extra fat to his ass to make it huge and bubbly. Can’t wait to see what he’d think when he wakes up afterwards. I hope he at least appreciates the fat ass I’ll grace him with.

That said, it would be a shame to let all that muscle I drained from him go to waste. Maybe I’ll have it transfer over to my new body instead. Making the one and only Ched Uzor look even more massive than before. Hopefully knowing that I’ll put his muscle to good use will be enough to put him at ease but somehow I doubt it hahahaha!

#asks #swap hypno tf #male possession #male body theft #permanent #identity theft #male hypnosis #male hypno #male transformation #ass growth #jock #muscle transfer #male muscle growth #muscle loss #magic

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raphaelsrightarm · 4 months

Note

Hi ! can I request a (dating) Donnie x Fem!reader ? just a fluff one shot with the two doing something cute and wholesome up to your choosing such as a movie marathon, making brownies together, his comfort when you have bad cramps etc.

Breathe

Is this corny? Maybe. Actually yes it absolutely is. It's a selfish piece of mine and I make no apologies

Once again I apologize for a long wait and I have multiple old requests that I am still working on so stay tuned haha

My first Donnie fluff let's get it

Words: 2031

Warning: None

You were laying on his chest when you realized he would match your breathing.

It was a rare kind of morning when he had left his lab behind and joined you in his own bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could. You folded into him so perfectly that it was hard for him to believe that there was ever another path for his life to take without you in it.

There were times when he would tease you when the swirls across his plastron would put indents on your face, but not today. Today he ran the tips of his lithe fingers along your spine, your shirt pooled at the back of your neck.

It was so rare to have these moments with him. To pull him from his desk and for him to let you do it, for him to leave behind his safe space. It wasn’t that he didn’t love these moments, he did. More than anything he did. But he was always worried about falling behind. His role was important, one that placed a weight on his shoulders that only you seemed to be able to free him of.

He was trying to force himself to sleep, you figured out. He hadn’t spoken since he made his way in here to you, pulling you against him and enjoying how warm you were from being wrapped in his comforter all night.

You inhaled deeply against him, feeling him do the same. You had been rising and falling slowly against his plastron all morning, not yet noticing the synchronization.

He didn’t seem to realize he was doing it, either. His rolling hand along your back had slowed to a stop, his eyes were gently shut. He had finally managed to fall asleep, his warm arm laying limp across you like a quilt.

His breathing had taken on its own rhythm then, but that didn’t stop you from attempting to further prove your theory.

He appeared in your window the next evening as you were baking cookies. Everything was set out, scattered across the countertops. His eyes took in the explosion of baking supplies before him before finding you in the middle of it. Your expression a mixture of determination and frustration.

“You know,” He started, reveling in the smile you had when you saw him. “People say baking is supposed to be a relaxing activity.”

“Well, the people who say that are the people who are good at it.”

He moved closer to inspect your workstation, his finger running a line through a patch of what might either be flour or baking soda, both of which you had spilled.

“I know it’s a mess.” You started, but before you could utter an apology at the state of the place, he smiled, shaking his head.

“Who are these for?” He walked behind you, grabbing dirty measuring spoons and bowls and moving them closer to the sink.

“They could be for you, if you clean up after me when I’m done.”

He made a show of looking around the kitchen, turning his head to the mess he had congregated to the sink, as well as the surfaces of the counters covered in powder. “I’m not sure I’ll be having any.”

You scoffed. “It’s not that bad.”

“Is this supposed to be on?” He gestured toward the oven, and only then did you realize you meant to begin preheating it when you started. The grin on his face meant he already knew the answer, so you turned your head back toward the bowl. Yet still grateful as you heard the oven beeping behind you as he set the temperature.

After a few minutes the batch of cookies was in the oven, leaving nothing but 15 minutes to glare at the destroyed kitchen which, as part of the deal, Donnie had begun helping clean up.

“I don’t understand how you can make a mess like this.” He said, picking up another measuring spoon, adding it to the pile of others to be washed. “Why did you need so many of these?”

“Need is maybe not the most accurate word.” You had the bag of flour in your hands when the possibility came to your mind. It was more of a thought that wouldn’t go away, one that you want to act out even though you knew you shouldn't.

Before you could stop yourself, you hand drifted into the bag, gathering up a small pinch of flour as you walked closer to him. He glanced up to you, unaware of what was coming, just before you flicked the flour toward him.

You both watched as it barely drifted against him, yet the challenge that sparked in his eyes

You made a useless attempt to save yourself. “That was an accident,” though saying it through fighting a stubborn laugh didn’t help.

“I’m sure it was.” He took a step toward you, a smile pulling against his lips. You planned on sprinting around into your living room, maybe even making an attempt to lock yourself in the bathroom. You realized just a moment too late just how long his arms were, and they wrapped around your waist before you could register it.

He practically tucked you underneath his elbow, freeing his other arm so he could, to your horror, reach his hand into the bowl of flour.

“Don’t you dare.” You tried to make it sound like a threat, but your breath was short from laughter. Either way, it was a plea that landed on deaf ears as a flick of flour throughout what little space was left between the two of you. You clenched your eyes shut as it scattered across your face. He released you then, laughing so hard you heard him snort.

You feigned offense, slowly reaching into the bowl yourself. You knew well that he could’ve been halfway across the room by the time you threw a handful of the powder back at him, yet he stayed where he was, the two of you laughing like children as the counters and surrounding floor became covered in a sprinkling of white dust.

After a while, you doubled over, holding a hand on the counter as you tried to catch your breath. He placed a hand on your back, and slowly, suspiciously, you straightened out.

You were greeted with a soft smile on his flour patched face, and you knew that if he had gotten hit that you must have been worse. He reached his hand up and ran a thumb across your cheek in an attempt to dust some of it off.

“Have fun cleaning this up.” You said as he laughed again as he pulled you against his chest, your nose pressed to the underside of his jaw.

“That could be a fun thing to do together.”

“Who said anything about us doing it together? We had a deal.”

“We never shook on it.”

The two of you stayed in this moment, ignoring the chaos around you. You searched for it again then, taking in a deep breath, and feeling him do the same. Each breath he took a loving mimic. He felt you smile against his skin, and all he did was hold you tighter.

It was a few days later when you struck a deal with him that if he were to leave his desk behind he would be the one to decide what the two of you do. He had chosen movies, secretly because it meant he didn’t have to stray far from his work.

Though, it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. There had been nights before when you thought you had been able to convince him to leave his lab to get some rest, only for him to sneak away the second you fell asleep. But tonight would not be one of them.

The two of you had taken up the couch, his brothers making themselves scarce, which you were sure was Donnie’s doing, though you didn’t mind. He held you closer when no one else was around, his hands always absentmindedly massaging your skin.

He had decided upon the first Iron Man film, which was playing before the two of you. You were certain it was because he had seen it already so many times, and he would be ready with slipping back to his work.

At least he thought he would be, until you decided you wanted to lay on top of him instead of next to him.

It started with you draping your leg over his. Which he didn’t seem to mind, his hand going to rest easily on your knee.

Then it turned into shifting to your side to place both your legs over his, hanging them between his knees.

“What are you up to?” He whispered, his arm that was wrapped around you moving to run his fingertips across your shoulder blades. You shrugged at him, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, the movie half finished, before you flexed your knees, pulling yourself further onto his lap. He didn’t stop you, instead let out an amused sigh. You dramtically draped over the front of him, legs hanging over his, arms laying out over his sides. His hands went to their usual places on your torso as you felt him relax into the couch, resigning to his new fate.

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

Your smile answered his question. “Now you’re stuck here.” You kissed his cheek. “With me.”

“I guess there are worse things.” His chest rising once again to match yours for a brief moment, his hands pressed to your ribs. “But not by much.”

He laughed as you playfully swatted at his arm.

His laughter had warped into a song to you. You blamed it on sleep deprivation and simply being wrapped up beside him for so long.

He had texted you earlier that night to meet him on top of your roof and to bring a coat. When you had arrived, you saw how he had set up a little nest for the two of you. Blankets piled up beneath the two of you and draped over top. He had set up a projector, and the two of you watched a movie before turning attention to the sky, and what few stars you could see.

The air had bite to it, and you pressed closer to him under the blankets than you were already. You were taking turns pointing out constellations for a while, before you began making up your own. Partly for entertainment, but mostly so you had more reason to stay out here.

“That one looks like Elton John,” He said, pointing to a random cluster of lights in the sky.

“You’ve said Elton John already.”

“No I haven’t.” He traced the shape. “That’s his head, those are his glasses. Stars already.”

You laughed again. “Ok, that one looks bigger than the other ones, that one’s the north star.”

“That’s not north.” He squinted. “And I think that’s an airplane.”

“What?” You noticed then the blinking light tracing behind it, blaming your exhaustion on missing it the first time. “Oh.”

He laughed until he snorted, and you knew he must be tired as well. You found he laughed much easier when he hadn’t slept in a while. You knew the two of you should head inside soon, a safer spot to rest. But this night had been so nice, neither one of you wanted to mention the idea.

“That one is Casseopeia.” You pointed to the same spot you had been pointing to all night, no longer even attempting to be correct.

“Casseopeia also points north, dove.”

“And that’s not north?”

He laughed again, tightening his hold around you. Your eyes became heavy, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of him so close to you.

It was then you decided to confirm your theory once more, taking in a large breath of the chill air. He followed a second behind.

You smiled, drifting off to sleep wrapped within the safety of his arms.

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayversetmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie 2016 #tmnt donnie 2014 #tmnt donnie fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Text

You looked left, then looked right before then hobbling down the hallway, safely making it to the dimly kitchen of your apartment without so much as a peep but just when you thought you were in the clear. The lights turn on and in the doorway, you could clearly see the disappointment upon Adam’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

‘Fuck.’ You hissed under your breath.

‘Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting.’ You grimaced, knowing you’ve tested his patience one too many times with your constant escapades that were birthed from your boredom of being bed bound.

To provide a little bit of context: The most recent mission you and the guardians had partaken in turned out well enough to be considered a success…had you weren’t then later on ambushed by what you had originally thought was the corpse of your slain enemy; leaving you in a state of injury and on bed rest until all sustaining wounds were properly healed over.

During this, Adam had appointed himself your caregiver and would often catch you in the act of attempting one of your many grandiose plans of retrieving a snack from the fridge when your hunger could no longer be ignored or your comfort plushie, before ushering your back to your room and getting what it was that you needed for you. Oftentimes you’d think to yourself that Adam was doing this out of a sense of guilt in not being able to react fast enough but he -as much as the rest of you- couldn’t have known that amongst the dead there would be one still clinging to their last embers of life whilst scheming the ultimate revenge plot.

‘This is the fourth time this week.’ Adam began his chastising.

‘I know…’ you muttered.

‘Your wounds will never properly heal at the rate that you’re going.’ He continues and it feels as though you’ve heard this same rant more then you’d like, but then again you guessed it was kind of your own fault for not actively doing your part in allowing your wounds the time to heal; Even now you felt them scream at you in agreement from beneath the thick gauze as they throbbed in anguish, causing you to wince and bite down your groans of pain as to not alert Adam.

However Adam was more observant then you or anyone gave him credit for and had saw the way your hand instinctually reached for your heavily bandaged side and how the muscles in your face contorts into one of pain and discomfort. His posture relaxed, arms limp at his side, as his face softened; All he wanted to do was make sure your healing went accordingly but he failed to take into account of how restless you’d become from the inactivity, which had lead to your current situation becoming a common occurrence.

‘Your wounds are flaring up again.’ Adam said softly as he made his way to your uninjured side. ‘Let me help you back into bed at the very least.’ You mulled it over but ultimately decided that you should stop making Adam’s job as your caretaker harder then it should be and actually allow your wounds their time to heal because what you were doing wasn’t helping anyone and it certainly wasn’t helping your healing process, only proving in hindering it even more then necessary.

‘Fine.’ You said, accepting that you were loosing this battle, allowing Adam to escort you back to your room and helping you find a comfortable position without irritating your wounds even further then you already have. Before Adam left your room, you find yourself calling out to him. ‘Adam.’ The golden boy looks over his shoulder, ‘I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass. I know you were just trying to help and all I’ve been doing is make it harder on the both of us. I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me.’

‘You could never be trouble for me.’ Adam admits. ‘I find your inability to stay situated an admirable trait as it only tells me that you have a restless spirit that won’t go quietly into the night. So don’t apologise for I’ll always be here whenever you should need me.’ He finishes with a soft smile before closing the door behind him and you found yourself smiling when drifting to sleep.

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jojo-schmo · 2 months

Text

Vent comic.

I just needed to express some of the inner dialogue I’ve been having a lot of lately. I’m trying to process things on pencil and paper so they don’t swirl in my head so much and it does help a bit.

The reason I’m sharing something personal like this is because it feels more genuine to me, to share why I slowed down so much on posts for a while here.

I wouldn’t call this burnout. Because I still have the energy and desire to draw, and I get enjoyment out of it. I guess I’ve been having these moments of self-doubt and frustration about my skill levels and I’m sure others have felt this too, right?

My free time is too short and it makes me angry and sad sometimes. And I get annoyed when the final product doesn’t match what my vision is in my head. I get impatient. I want the end result to be easier to get to. I want to be proud of a fully finished piece of art but I haven’t been able to make one for too long.

I just kinda feel like a nobody that needs to hurry up and learn a skill so I can contribute something worthwhile to the world.

It’s something I’m working on actively. I will be totally fine someday. But I still want to be vulnerable here for a second and just express my feelings briefly in hopes I can get a little closer to feeling better again.

And when that happens, I’ll be able to continue doing my best. I’m looking forward to that.

#negative #just in case.#irl content #jojo rambles

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bbybluemochi · 8 months

Text

bbybluemochi's F.A.Q. ✧･ﾟ

Hi! Arun here! I thought that instead of answering your submissions one by one I’d gather all the frequently asked questions and answer them in a single post (this is a mix of art/OC/commissions related q's)!

Please note that I do read all your messages and I’m so grateful for every one of them!!!! I keep all your words really close to my heart, thank you for liking my art and loving my Ocs as much as I do, it means the world to me <3

What’s the name of your OCs?

They’re called Cotton (the blonde one) and Puppy (the dark haired one). The original idea for them was to make some silly wolf/bunny OCs (that’s why Cotton is called like that, it was supposed to be a joke about her tail…) but somewhere along the way they took over and became something completely different!

Is there a webcomic for your OCs?

Not currently! I don’t have the time or the skills (for now) but I’d love to give it a try in the future!

I was wondering if you mind people using your OC art as character art/inspiration for DnD?Just games with friends that are for fun, nothing for commercial.

Go ahead! I find that really flattering.

Just out of curiosity, are any of your OCs bisexual?

Both Cotton and Puppy are lesbians. That’s what I feel comfortable drawing since I’m a lesbian myself. If I ever do draw a bisexual OC I’ll make sure to mention it! <3

I think you said Cotton was a dominatrix in a previous ask, but is Puppy on the opposite side of the spectrum or is she just glad to be there whichever way?

Puppy is very much a sub. They both switch (Puppy as a service top and bottom and Cotton as a top and power bottom), but the dom/sub dynamic never changes. Also I wanted to mention that these dynamics do not transcend outside of the bedroom that much, there’s more to them than their kinks but I do love to draw them deep in their submissive/dominant headspaces.

Are one of the lesbian fairytale characters trans?

I didn’t design either of them with that in mind, but I’m super OK with people headcanoning them as trans!

May I use your art as a header/icon?

Of course! Remember to credit me tho~

Do you allow people to use your art freely?

I don’t allow reposts of my work (not that it matters that much, since almost all my art has been already reposted a million times ))): but I’d really appreciate it if you just shared my posts instead of reposting my art). As for phone backgrounds/wallpapers or stuff like that, yeah!

Do you have an instagram account or other social media, I would love to follow you there.

My main platform is twitter (same @), I post all my drawings there and I’m usually more active over there. Tumblr is kind of like an archive. I really like the community here but I find it easier to reply/interact with people on twitter! As for instagram, I do have an old art account (same @, again) but I haven’t posted in so long. I may start posting there soon if a certain rich guy decides to keep destroying the bird app tho.

I’ve always thought about this… how do you think it’d look if the aesthetics/styles [of your OCs] were reversed?

I’ll have to explore that in a future drawing, I haven’t thought much about it!

Do you write fics for your characters or has anyone else written fics about them?

Not yet! A couple of my friends have offered, tho! I usually like to stick to drawing because that’s what I do best, I don’t wanna subject anyone to my writing (it’s not very good,,,,). When I share some of my Ocs stories, I think it will be in comic format.

What's the story behind your OCs?

There are several, actually!! I like to put my OCs in different universes. As for now, there’s the Fairytale AU, the modern setting AU (this is the original one), and now the Werewolf/Vampire AU. I also did a drawing of them as spiderwoman and black cat but I don’t think that AU is gonna make a comeback for a while. I’m also planning a scifi AU but I’m not sure I’d be able to pull off that aesthetic with my current art style so I’m still working on it.

The Fairytale AU is the one I’m working on most of the time. I wanna release a small artbook with their story + illustrations. That was my main goal for 2023 but life got in the way, so maybe,,, 2024??? *crosses fingers*

Is your shop down? It’s saying that it’s not available.

I open my shop for 1-2 weeks every now and then, that’s why it’s closed most of the time! My plan is to open the store again in september, if i manage to finish all the merch in time! I’ll announce it on my twitter and tumblr account when I do.

Would you ever share a tutorial on how you make your art?

Yes, of course! I’m not very good at explaining my drawing process but If it helps anyone I’d love to! Just let me know what part of the drawing process you’d like me to focus on, because If i try to make a full illustration tutorial it’s gonna be too long/difficult to follow.

May I ask what brush do you use for your lineart?

I use a different brush almost every time I start an illustration, I’m not very consistent when it comes to that (I think it’s mainly because I haven’t found the perfect brush yet!). But let me know what illustration you’re curious about and I’ll try to remember which one I used!

Do you come up with poses off the top of your head or do you use some type of reference? I always struggle with them.

It depends on what I’m drawing! Some of my drawings are reinterpretations of paintings (I’m obsessed with pre-raphaelite painters and arthurian legend paintings in general), so in those cases I try to adapt the poses to my art style. Even If I’m trying to recreate an already existing painting I end up changing the poses/proportions a lot along the way to fit my personal taste/art style.

Other times, I just sketch from imagination (this is more entertaining, I think, since looking at references can make the drawing process a bit tedious). If I find it hard to draw a certain pose/part of the body I will look up references on printerest, no shame in using pictures! If I still can’t find the pose I need I’ll just take a picture of myself (this is like, a last resort for me. I’m too lazy for this).

My personal advice would be to use references for the pose and then tweaking the pose and trying to make it more personal

I love the way the armor was designed and rendered! Can you share some tips on designing armor?

Drawing armor is something I still struggle with most of the time. I think I’ve learned a lot in the past year (please don’t look at my armor drawings from 2022,,,,, sigh) but I still struggle to draw certain poses/angles. My advice is: don’t hesitate to draw non-functional armor!!! There’s always gonna be someone like “actually, that armour makes no sense :)” well !!!! it looks cool as hell so who caresssss !!!!!

I think it’s more important for you to get comfortable drawing armor before you start beating yourself up for not drawing accurate ones. It takes a lot of practice (I’m still learning!!!), especially if you’re trying to draw historically accurate ones, so start by having fun, and then work your way up from there.

Most of the tips I can think about are really hard to explain without a visual example, so let me know if that’d be a tutorial you would be interested in and I’ll try to make one (I’m cringing a little just saying this bc I swear, my armor skills are so bad compared to some amazing artists out there………..).

Do you allow cosplays your OCs?

YES…. YES PLEASE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM BEGGING YOUUU ILL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!!! *rattles my cage*

Do you allow fanart of your OCs?

Again,,, PLEASEEEEEEEEE !!! Just tag me so I don’t miss it and remember to give me credits if you do !!!!!!!!!!! :D

I was wondering if you use procreate , clip studio, or similar apps?

A mix of both. I used to draw on procreate only until I got a tablet and now I’m a clip studio user (csp sponsor me please), and now that’s all I use. I’m so used to drawing on PC now that I don’t think I’d be able to go back to procreate, but I still like that app a lot! All my drawings (even the ones I do on csp) always get retouched on procreate because I like some of the effects (*dreamy sigh* chromatic aberration filter,,, love u).

I wanted to know if the marks Cotton has on her waist are tattoos or like a scar?

Those are tats! Puppy is a tattoo artist ~~~ (I’m actually not sure if i’ll keep the waist tats on Cotton or if I’ll end up redesigning them,,,)

I was wondering if you take commissions?

Not right now. I also don’t have any plans of opening commissions any time soon! When I do, I’ll post a google forms on twitter and here on tumblr with the prices and type of comms I do. But there’s nothing scheduled.

Even tho I'm not doing commissions atm, I’m currently looking for illustration jobs (specially book covers), so don’t hesitate to email me at [email protected]

That's all for now, thank you for reading!! I think I covered most of the questions, I'll make another q&a post in the future! Bye~~

#frequently asked questions #faq #ask

231 notes · View notes

0kayblue · 3 months

Text

Choices

A drunken kiss, unspoken feelings, and a nasty argument leaves Leon in a cracked state. Painfully stuck in the crossroads of realization that nothing is going to get better until he starts talking and actively takes the steps to come to terms with his past and his disjointed emotions.

Word count: Almost 5k (not throughly proof read)

Angst. Language. Gun mentioned. Drinking mentioned. Happy ending. Partners to friends to lovers? The timeline is a little funky so let me explain: the events of Raccoon City take place in 2004 and that places this story towards the start of 2011.

A/N: Long time no see, huh? Things got heavy and they got heavy fast. Between vacation, moving, and the holidays; I’ve kinda fallen off the face of the planet. But it is what it is and I’m back for a minute or two.

As far as requests are concerned I’m working on them, but I get distracted with other ideas. My google doc is full of rough outlines and unfinished works in progress. I don’t have any idea when things will come out, they just will. I apologize, but damn, life is stressful.

Anyway, I hope you all are having a lovely day, week, month, and year. Please enjoy!!

“Hey. . .” Leon starts, his voice low and like gravel with uncertainty. A sense of deprecating self-consciousness following in the silence, before he lets out a frustrated huff. “You didn’t pick up, not that I’m surprised. . .but still, it hurts.” He admits as his grip on his phone grows tighter before it loosens and a conflicted sigh leaves him.

“I’m. . .sorry.” He struggles with the apology as he shuts his eyes and another exasperated sigh leaves him, “Truly, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and I shouldn’t have pointed the finger at you. It’s not your fault and it never has been. I need you to know that, I need you to know that I know how I’ve been acting lately is stupid and. . .” He stops as he opens his eyes and looks around the dim space of his empty living room, the loneliness of this moment threatening to swallow him whole. The numbing silence of the room mixed with the silence on the other end of the phone became too much to handle causing him to swallow the confession on the tip of his tongue.

He licks the dryness from his lips as his other hand goes to massage his forehead in a stiff and irritated manner. He sucks his teeth as his hand falls while he lets out a disheartened sigh as the words fall from his lips, “I can’t do this without you here.” He admits with frustrated sorrow, “I need to see you. I need you to look at me. I need you to. . .I just need you.”

The static of the other empty line cuts through silence like a rusted combat knife through brittle sheet metal. Leon’s lips part for another sigh to escape him, but it never does. The air stays lodged in his throat before he painfully swallows.

“Look,” The word came out dry and somewhat short, before he clears his throat. “I’ve got some things I have to deal with, but if you could come over just for a moment—or at least call me back– it doesn’t have to be tonight; but sometime.” He can’t stop it from sounding like a desperate ramble; a plea for your silence to be broken.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it probably won’t be until the early hours of the morning so if you could just at least call me back tonight. Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to give me any other information and I won’t ask, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He explains softly, biting his tongue to keep himself from making the accusations that scream at him.

He opens his mouth to say more, to at least say ‘bye’; but he can’t, so he pulls the phone away from his ear and he ends the call. A frustrated grunt leaving him as he peers down at your contact photo, his gaze softening as he studies the smile on your face. The photo one that he cherishes with every heart string he has; a moment he was able to capture without you knowing. The rarity of being able to capture a genuine smile on your face. He recalls the day fondly and for a moment a smile curls at his lips until he eyes glance at the time in the top left corner of the thin device. He locks his phone as he stands from the loveseat you often perched yourself in whenever you were over, the seat cushion practically molded to only sit your frame comfortably.

Putting the phone in his pocket he makes his way through the kitchen and to the door that leads to the garage; grabbing his car keys from the key hooks by the door and opening the garage door.

The dark of night not holding its usual tranquility as the earthy smell of the heavy rain floods his nostrils. It’s eerily fitting given his current circumstances and it makes his skin crawl slightly as he gets into the driver seat and starts the car. Putting the car in reverse he backs out of the garage, his ears starting to ring slightly as the quietness of the night floods the car. A slight scoff leaves him as he goes to shut the garage door and he heads north towards his destination.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon drives for hours in silence trying to put his head together. Trying to string together what exactly he wants to say while also remaining focused on the road ahead. All his thoughts scattered and disorganized; any sense of pulling it together immediately wiped out whenever his phone buzzed. A thin line of hope is always shattered when he glances at it and it’s just another notification about god knows what. It didn’t matter and he didn’t care because it was never your name on the screen.

It felt as if you were playing this silent treatment thing as if your life depended on it and it was killing him. Suffocating him. Each ping brings him above the tidal wave for just a moment before being dragged back under by the force of the freezing crisp waves. He could almost taste the bitter salt water with each defeated sigh of disappointment.

His glare on the road sharpens as he sees the abandoned gas station, slows, and makes the sharp right turn into the parking lot. The sound of stray gravel gritting against the tread of the tires as the car reaches its destination, Leon on the other hand still has another hour until he reaches his.

A single unmarked cruiser awaiting him parked perfectly in between two faded and barely visible white lines. He parks his own car a couple spots away from the cruiser before he shuts it off and steps out of the car, grabbing his phone and keys sliding them into his back pocket as he takes calculated steps to the cruiser. The rain only becomes more intense as he tries not to be affected by the cold laced into every drop that hits him, soaking his clothes slightly.

“Should’ve brought an umbrella.” He mutters to himself as he opens the driver’s side door of the cruiser and gets in. He shakes slightly in an effort to get any excess water off before running a hand through his damp hair, the water slicking it back for just a moment before his bangs fall back into place.

He leans over the center console and gets into the glove compartment on the passenger’s side. A single car key and a beretta 92fs pistol sit exactly where they were supposed to be. He opts for the cool metal of the hand gun as he picks it up and inspects the weapon briefly, leaving the safety on before he sets it in the passenger seat. He then takes the car key and starts the car, whereas his car was quiet the cruiser engine debates on whether or not to come to life and he almost took it as a sign to give up despite not being a superstitious man; but he digresses as the old cruiser decides that Leon is worth the ride.

Just as he goes to put the car in reverse his phone pings and he immediately takes his hand from the gear shift and fishes for it with a grunt from his back pocket. A moment of relief leaves him as this time the contact that greets him is yours. Quick to unlock the phone he is greeted with a text of only one word:

‘Maybe.’

“Maybe?” He grumbles, “What the hell does that even mean?” He asks no one but himself and yet is met with the low rumble of the cruiser’s transmission. Before really thinking he goes and types a reply, staring at the message with a puzzled expression.

‘Maybe what exactly?’

Surprisingly he barely moved before he got a reply.

‘Just maybe.’

He takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky manner. Stubborn, you were always so stubborn. Of course he was too, but he was the one actively trying not to be this time. He was the one trying to get you to open up and not the other way around. Trying to get you to communicate with him, trying to get you to be vulnerable with him, trying to repair the rift between the two of you.

‘Can I get more than maybe?’

‘Please.’

He knows it’s his fault. He understands that regardless of how you left he still hurt you and you still had every right to be upset with him. Neither of you made anything official, never committed to anything, and he was a fool to think that a drunk kiss meant that his feelings were reciprocated and defined you both as an unit. He should have known that your avoidance of him the next day meant that something was off, but he convinced himself that you understood everything. That you knew everything he’s wanted to say for months. So, when he was informed of you being around someone who clearly was no good for you; he snapped.

‘I’ll be by.’

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A crumb that would subside the ache he felt. He lets out a sigh of relief as a small and soft smile finds his face. It was confirmation to him that he hasn’t lost you completely. He hadn’t lost you.

‘When?’

‘Tonight. Please.’

He stares at the screen waiting for a reply he doubts he will get; so he isn’t surprised as agonizing seconds turn into minutes. Glancing at the time he knows he needs to move, and he will. Just a minute more.

A minute passes, then two, and still no reply. He runs a hand through his hair before it finds the steering wheel, gripping it with force. Trying to let out some of the agitation he felt in the least harmful way possible. He tosses the phone into the passenger seat before taking his leave.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon pulls up to the agreed upon meeting spot, the headlights of the cruiser reflecting off of the multiple ‘WARNING’ and ‘DANGER’ signs. All signs informing the public to stay clear of the abandoned wreckage that was the nightmare that started his adult life.

He clenched his teeth as he parks the cruiser and before killing the engine he scrutinizes the rusted, faded, and graffitied sign that read:

‘Welcome to Raccoon City

Home of Umbrella’

He can’t help the cold unforgiving glare that hardens his features as he stares intensely at that damn sign. A sign that he once was looking forward to seeing, a sign that was supposed to harken in a new beginning for him. A chapter of his life that he never got to write the way he intended too.

He forces himself to look away as he kills the engine. All that anger and contempt in every movement he makes; the emotions barely subtle as he grabs the pistol and makes his leave from the cruiser. Uncleaned debris crunching under the harsh step of his sturdy weight. The former storm subsided to a gentle drizzle. As if the weather was deciding to be gentle towards him, to be kind as he faced the location of so much of his trauma. Dulled screams and flashbacks of all the things he saw that night flashing throughout every corner of his brain. He grits his teeth as he slams the door of the cruiser shut, the heavy bang ceasing the noise. The memories.

He keeps his focus trained ahead as he strides closer to the steel chain fencing with sturdy steps, the dim yellow light from aged street lights illuminating his path with a dull hum. Unclenching his jaw he puts the pistol into the tight waistband of his jeans as he starts to climb the rusted fence that murmurs whines underneath the weight of his body.

Getting to the top he throws one leg over before deciding to make the jump to the other side. A grunt leaves him as the soles of his shoes make contact with the pitch black pavement, a sharp yet brief pain shooting up his legs. Standing up straight he pulls the pistol from his waistband, shuts the safety off, and proceeds forward. Acutely aware of his surroundings as his stomach starts to turn and bile threatens to creep up his throat.

Luckily he doesn’t have to travel far as the person he is set to meet waits in the shadows, the click of her heels against the damp pavement making Leon fully aware of her presence as he points the gun at her out of fear. It isn’t until she steps closer that he lowers his weapon.

“Leon.” Ada says as she looks at him intently. Giving him a once over before she speaks again, “Someone is jumpy, I see.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the location.” Leon says as he stands up straight, his shoulders remaining tense. Ada nods in a sense of understanding.

“You went through it to track me down and I’ll admit I’m impressed; but I have to ask: why?” Ada’s voice is smooth and low, clearly guarded.

“There’s something I have to talk to you about. Something I need to address.” He admits.

Ada studies him, the tension he carries nearly slapping her across the face; and she knows all the blame can’t just be put on the location. The rubble on the street is a physical representation of the crumbs of trust that was shared between the two of them.

“So, then why go through the trouble?” She inquires, her brow raising slightly, “I’m certain whatever it is you are here to-.”

“No, I need you to hear what I have to say.” He says cutting her off. Clearly uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and direct with her; this whole situation reeking of a rotten smell that they could practically taste.

“Different.” She simply states, very different from their previous meeting six months prior in the rural misty mountainous region of Spain. A change that was lost on her is now clearly present. It’s rough, jagged; and not something she is used to when it comes to him.

The two stare at each other in silence, trying to piece each other together. A clear lack of communication ringing out into the night, something that wasn’t uncommon between the two.

“Do you-.” Leon starts but suddenly stops the question in its tracks. He knew the answer and it was pointless to even ask; so he opts for the next question, “Why didn’t you try and reach out?”

The question takes Ada aback and it shows physically as her eyes widen just slightly before returning to that uncaring gaze. She ponders on how to approach this. On what to say. Coming up short she decides not to say anything regarding the subject; so she changes it.

“Is this about them?” She asks and immediately Leon plants his feet. Knowing that her them meant you; and the feeling didn’t settle well in his bones. His teeth gritted together as his jaw locked. Yet, the fact of the matter remained: she was partly right.

“It is, isn’t it.” Ada states as she crosses her arms, a sense of pride finding her as she figured him out so quickly.

“And if it is?” Leon asks, hoping in vain to throw her off the scent by playing this with a harsh coyness.

“You’re still hung up over a kiss?” Ada asks, the question slipping from her lips without thinking. A rarity from her, so much so that it takes her aback as the harshness of her words hits Leon with a pang of disappointment.

“That’s not what I’m hung up on.” Leon answers, bitterness clinging to each word, “I’m hung up on the fact that after everything I—everything we—went through you didn’t even try to tell me you survived that fall. That you survived and you didn’t bother to at least leave me something to show you were still alive; and don’t even try and say you couldn’t find me. You could have. Easily.” His voice grew stronger with every word he spoke, his conflicting emotions present in each syllable.

Ada is stunned by his candor, the hurt that she caused him present leaving her baffled and grasping for straws. He was being raw here, he was showing her his cards that he held so tightly to his chest.

“That night was the ending to so much. That night—to me— was an unimaginable horror I was not prepared to face; and you…you were right there. You knew so much more than I did and you remained cryptic.” Leon states with a defeated and heavy breath, “It’s easy to direct my anger there; but I know that’s not where it belongs. That isn’t where my heart places it, even though it probably should be because you played it like a fiddle; but that’s not it. Not the way you used me. Manipulated me. What it is in all honesty is the fact that I couldn’t save you. That you slipped from my grip, but yet you still cling to me.”

Silence falls between the two again, but this time it’s different. It’s not a burden even though it remains heavy.

“So you tracked me down to tell me this?”

“I tracked you down so you can let me go.”

The statement left Leon in one breath as he looked at her with a softness to his eyes. A vulnerability in his gaze that swallowed Ada whole. The lack of light behind his eyes shadowing her in a darkness she never expected to feel from him. Her own emotions are becoming hard to keep in check, as her insides start to simmer with an almost forgotten feeling.

The silence clings to their clothes as the night time air becomes lodged in Leon’s throat. Nearly choking him as he examined Ada intently, trying to guess her next move. Trying to put himself in her shoes long enough to figure out what she might be thinking; but all of this was so foreign. So he retreated back into his own head and just decided it was best to let her move from here. He decided it was best to just stop; and that decision flooded his body with relief. His jaw relaxing, his shoulder falling slightly, his knees no longer locked; the utter relief he felt just voicing how he felt was something he least expected.

“Okay.” Ada said, breaking the silence. This newfound development changed something in her that she couldn’t pinpoint. Something half of her refused to pinpoint. This growth she sees from him changes her perception of him.

“Okay.” Leon repeats with a small nod as the subtle rain drops that have been hitting him start to increase. They stand in a tense awkward silence as the wind starts to pick up and begin to howl a broken howl that wavered like a gasped sob. Leon turns to leave before the rain starts to heavily pour again, but the question that falls from Ada causes him to stop.

“Are you doing this all for them?” She asks, crossing her arms. While Leon looks at her with confliction, still not pleased with her need to keep you in the conversation.

“Not completely.” He answers; and that is the truth. He needed this for himself, he knew that; but it would be a lie if you didn’t inspire him to take the leap. That you didn’t assure him that he didn’t have to constantly be fighting this inner turmoil, that he could form some type of peace with it; and most importantly that he didn’t have to do it alone. He deserved to care for himself, something he never considered until he felt the gentle warmth of your care.

“I’d prefer if you would leave them out of it.” Leon says, a protective pitch in his tone that packed a subtle bite. It didn’t catch her off guard, it was him she was dealing with; and she knew that regardless of the strengths she had briefly seen from you in Spain that Leon would still be protective of you.

So, Ada just nods, turns, and takes her leave,“Goodbye, Leon.” Ada says as Leon watches her walk back towards what he assumed was her entry point was located.

As her form disappears into the black of night Leon lets out a deep breath with a slight shake of his head; his limbs heavy from the strain of the stress he carried in them.

“Goodbye, Ada.”

———————————————————--------------------------

It was nearly four in the morning when Leon pulled into his garage. Your vehicle was nowhere in his line of sight as he pulled up to his house. Not that he was surprised, your answer was just a maybe, and he didn’t want you to push yourself out of the realms of something you weren’t comfortable doing just yet. At least he let you know that you weren’t ignoring him completely and that was enough for the time being.

He shuts off the car as an exhausted sigh leaves him while his hand runs down his face. His head starts to gently pound as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The emotional rollercoaster he has been on starts to churn his stomach, reminding him why he didn’t bother with this stuff for so long in the first place. It hurt. Everywhere.

He closes the garage as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Placing his keys back on the hook, kicking off his shoes, and starting to remove his jacket he stops as he hears the muffled sound of a sitcom laugh track coming from the living room. His chest swells with hope as he quickly disregards his jacket and shoes and with large gentle strides he makes his way into the living room. His heart nearly stops when he sees you asleep on the couch.

Stopping in his tracks he watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, you were completely and utterly lost in what he hoped was a peaceful slumber. Your arms tucked close to your chest. Your hair fanned out over the couch cushion and the arm of the couch. He fought back how he wanted to run his hand through your hair. How tempting it looked, how he knew nothing brought you more comfort than the feeling of gentle fingers working their way through your hair. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to comfort you. He wants to give you whatever your heart desires.

His breath hitches in his throat as he carefully sits on the edge of one of the couch cushions. His heart swells with so much love that it is overwhelming and for the first time within all of this his eyes start to glass over. Tears threatening to spill as a shaky hand slowly makes contact with the warmth of your scalp. His fingers intertwined with your hair as his thumb gingerly brushes the top of your head and a small breath of relief leaves him as he watches your body relax. He stifled a sob with a scoff as a smile found his face while he fixed his gaze on you. The person he holds the most dear. The person he would do whatever it took to just have by his side.

A craving to show you the utmost love and affection, a craving to care for you so much deeper than what the two of you already had. He hoped with everything that you wanted more. That the ghost of your past hadn’t swallowed you up. That you would choose him.

He finally sniffs, the sound of distress pulling you from sleep as your eyes open and find his piercing blue ones glassy with tears. You move to sit up as even in your groggy state your arms wrap around him to comfort him.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You coo as your torso presses against him while one hand rubs his back and the other makes its way into his hair as you rest your chin in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay.” You soothe while Leon takes in a strangled breath his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap.

“You came.” He utters, his voice breaking slightly.

“You called.” You answer softly.

Leon’s grip on you tightens as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, fresh hot thick tears starting to roll down his face. You gently mumble sweet reassurances as you rub his back, allowing him to cry, allowing him to let go of all the shit he has been holding onto. The fight. The end. The struggle. He’s letting go of all of it as he keeps a firm hold on you, clinging to you as if his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for- for being with them. I- I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have told you how I felt. I should have-.” He chokes out his apology, the saltiness of his tears finding the pallet of his tongue.

“Shh, Leon, it’s okay.” You coo rubbing his back, “Don’t force yourself to speak when you aren’t ready. Take your time.” He fists the soft fabric of your shirt as he wonders what he ever did to know the comfort of your patience.

As Leon begins to calm down his grip on you loosens, his breathing returning to normal as his chest no longer hitches with quiet sobs. You feel him start to relax and in turn your body loses its own stiffness. You continue to hold him to you, trailing the tips of your nails gingerly up and down a patch of his back. You had no idea where Leon had been, but whatever he did has obviously left him worse for wear.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask in a quiet whisper, concern ever present in your soft voice; and Leon can’t help himself.

“I love you.” He responds as he places a strong hand in between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed against him as he screws his eyes shut trying to commit this moment to memory. The feeling of your body pressed flush against his, the addictive pleasant scent of your perfume, the soft gentle flesh of your neck pressed against the scratch of his stubble.

“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have talked to you directly. I should have seen everything.” He says as he regretfully pries himself away from you to look at you fully, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and hold your face gently in the palms of his hands. He watches the gears in your head start to turn through sparkling big doe eyes and his heart starts to melt. The realization that he wasn’t the only one that needed improvements becoming ever present as he brushes the side of his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you and I am unbelievably sorry. Please, please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads as he studies your face, noting the way your bottom lip quivered ever so slightly.

You both sit there in silence as he admires the sad beauty that are your features in this moment. He allows you to just sit there and feel, and think, and breathe. With all the patience in the world he waits for you.

“I love you too.” You finally say quietly, the words falling from your lips in a hesitancy before you speak up again; but with more strength and convection, “I love you too.”

A soft wide smile finds Leon’s face as he brings your lips to his in a soft, but desperate and passionate kiss. The taste of your lips are so much sweeter without the bitter taste of alcohol on them. Your arms snaking their way around his neck as you kiss him back the way you wanted to the first time he kissed you. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer to him as his tongue ghosts over your bottom lip.

You part your lips allowing him access to explore the warmth of your mouth while crooking your head to the side as his tongue makes its way into your mouth. His tongue runs briefly over your teeth before it coils with your own and he sucks slightly causing a deep moan to reverberate from your chest and up your throat.

The sound causes a smirk to curl at the corner of his lips as he parts from you regardless of how badly he wants to continue. He couldn’t help it, he had to see you; and the sight was worth it. The blissful peace on your face as you opened your eyes to look at him was worth it. A smile plastered on his face as he noted the tiredness in your eyes, the slight bags underneath them, and his hand finds your cheek as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Let's save the rest for tomorrow, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” He says as he moves to pick you up bridal style. He stands from the couch as your grip around him tightens as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“Leon.” You scold him slightly, but with no real seriousness to it.

“Tomorrow.” He assures with a little nod, a playful smirk on his face.

“Tomorrow.” You repeat with a little roll to your eyes.

84 notes · View notes

lxstfathier · 1 month

Text

old jedi texts

Master! Luke Skywalker x reader

Minific

Summary: you’re horny and needy, but luke is busy, so you de decide to have fun on your own… but he didn’t expected you to ride his arm.

Warnings: arm riding, slight degradation, dom! luke (obviously), outdoors activities.

A/N: i still don’t know how, but you guys won the poll!! so here it is, as i promised, the arm riding fic! personally i’m not sure if i like it, it’s probably not my best work lmao, but i hope that at least all of my luke girlies enjoy this! 💗

“Not now, i’m busy” that’s what Luke told you, nearly five hours ago.

It’s a free day at the jedi academy. Most of his padawans are meditating or doing chores, with an exception of the younglings, they usually just watch the holo movies that r2d2 projects all evening. You are laying down on a blanket, in the middle of a bamboo forest, enjoying the last rays of sunshine, and of course, Luke is laying by your side too.

But he’s been reading the old jedi texts all day. Without a single break. And you haven’t been able to distract him, not when you told him to eat some fruit with you, and not even when you insinuated that you could have some fun together while finally alone.

And it’s not that he neglects you, no, most of the time he’s an amazing lover, but today you just can’t get him to stop. He’s stubborn on finishing at least two of those thick books. It doesn’t matter how much you try, if you kiss his neck or if you slightly run your hand over the crotch of his black sweatpants, nothing will change his mind.

Maybe it would be easier if he wasn’t so tempting. How are you supposed to not feel needy if he’s right there, wearing nothing but those sweatpants, with his bare bare torso showing all his toned muscles, while teasing the pages of the books with the tips of his fingers. It’s too much.

The tingle reappears between your legs, and you can already feel the wetness pooling down there. So you decide to try one last time. Maybe it results on him scolding you, or maybe he finally pounds you right there until the blanket ends up drenched in sweat and cum. And there’s only one way to find out.

Getting closer to him, you run a finger through his lips, and then make your way down his chest, drawing circles on the soft skin.

“Please fuck me” you plead, using your most seductive voice, the one that you know makes him melt.

“I’ll fuck you at night” he says, slightly annoyed but at least taking his blue eyes off the book to look at you for a few seconds. “Now, if you’re so horny, you can hump my thigh.”

Your lips form a pout immediately. You’ve humped his thigh countless times before, and even though you enjoy it, you want something different… and that’s when a certain idea comes straight to your mind.

Moving your hand, your finger makes its way to his left arm, tracing his bulky bicep and the vein that runs through it. So masculine, so strong, and so damn hot. You can’t recall how many times you have stared at his arms more than you should, clenching your thighs together at the sight of those muscles.

So you sit up, gently moving his hand away from the book, just to make his arm lay on the blanket.

And for a moment Luke thinks that maybe you want him to finger you, but once he reads your thoughts, he knows exactly what do you want, and how kinky you’re about to get.

“You can keep reading” you say as you lift up your skirt and straddle his arm, pressing your clothed pussy against his bicep. “I don’t want to distract you”.

Well, of course he is distracted now, and he can already feel the blood rushing to his cock. But he won’t fall for it, no, after all these years he is an expert at self-control, so he just lets you do your thing while he pretends to concentrate on his book again.

Moving your panties to the side, you start to slowly rock your hips back and forth, while your hands rest on his shoulder and your eyes close shut. Just concentrating on how good it feels to be riding his arm.

Soft moans escape from your lips, and it’s not long until you find the perfect rhythm, grinding your clit and sticky folds against him at a pace that has you seeing stars.

“Such a needy slut” Luke growls, his book now long forgotten, way too distracted with your lustful actions to be able to read. “Look at you, humping my arm like a hound in heat”.

“Sorry” you whine. “Couldn’t help it”.

You won’t last long, not after you’ve been so pent-up all day, finally getting your much needed relief. And he knows it, so he decides to help you a little bit, using the force to send intense vibrations straight to you clit.

“Ah!- Luke!”.

A cocky smile appears on his lips when he hears you moan his name like that, so pornographic, while you can’t help but move your hips faster and dig your nails on his tanned skin.

He would be lying if he said that it didn’t boost his ego to see you lose yourself in such a pathetic way. Just with his arm.

“Cum for me pretty girl” Luke commands, that stern tone in his voice only sending you over the edge.

The burning fire on your lower belly gets stronger with each movement of your hips, now riding his bicep desperately fast, trying to enjoy the feeling just a bit more, until you can’t control any of it.

Suddenly, your orgasm snaps and you come undone, whimpering as the pleasure consumes every part of your body. So intense that it’s almost too much. Not even noticing that you created a huge mess all over his arm, making it glisten under the evening sun with your sweet juices.

“Yeah, that’s it” he praises you while you ride out your high, running his gloved hand over your thigh. “Are you happy now?”.

“Mhm” is all you can answer.

“Good, cause i still need to finish reading this”.

Luke doesn’t sound annoyed anymore. Actually, he enjoyed the show, it was quite… interesting. But as much as he would love to give you more attention and fuck your brains out immediately, he can’t, he is a busy man and must get back to his jedi studies.

So, with trembling legs, you get off his arm and lay down again, cuddling up by his side. It wasn’t too tiring, but maybe you’re more relaxed now that you got some release, causing you to feel sleepy once the high is over.

“You can take a nap if you want” Luke says, sensing your exhaustion as he runs a hand through your hair. “I gotta study a few more chapters”.

You don’t even answer, you just close your eyes and rest for a while, hearing the beating of his heart and the soothing quietness in the middle of the bamboo forest.

And he keeps reading. Or at least tries to. His mind is still thinking about you, occupied by the image of your pretty pussy rubbing against his bicep, and the cute noises you made while doing it. So now you’re going to pay a high price for that distraction.

Actually… he’s already planning all the things he’ll do to you at night.

#luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker smut #star wars smut

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