#planning is hard but you know what is even harder? sticking to a plan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eoieopda · 8 months

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tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind.

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you.

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright.

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response.

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you.

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you.

You don’t reciprocate.

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope.

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk.

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so.

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw.

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access.

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?”

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat.

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…”

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it.

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound.

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life.

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic.

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.”

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you.

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed.

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist.

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him.

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you.

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before.

Christ.

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you.

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you.

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

1K notes · View notes

ktittycat · 1 month

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regulus black x female reader | sleeping beauty

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* somnophilia, perv!reggie, masturbating, basically non-con, innocence kink, cuz reggie’s like a brother to you :( he calls u good girl, p in v, unsafe sex …. if there’s more tags tell me

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you were a deep sleeper. it would take more than 5 alarms to wake you up— and if someone were to slap you across the face… you might wake up, but would immediately go back to sleep. it’s 12 AM when your best friend, someone who you view as a brother, enters your dorm room. it’s just you in there, since all your dorm mates had gone out that night.

you don’t even notice, deep asleep and snoring quietly. he smiles lazily at your hello kitty shirt., and fuck, you aren’t even wearing shorts. you’re wearing these cute hello kitty underwear to match. his pants tighten at the sight.

he knows it’s wrong. you’re sleeping and completely unaware of what he’s about to do to you. and regulus knows you view him as a brother. but with your cute frame and those doe eyes— he’s bound to fall in love. he moves a piece of hair out of your face.

“you’re just so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek, tugging up your shirt to reveal those perky boobs he’s been dying to see. “fuck.”

he fondles with them for a bit before pulling down his sweatpants, his hard cock popping out. it’s tip is throbbing with a bright red. he so desperately needs you. he holds your chin gently, positioning your face so he can see you. and he strokes. strokes to the sight of your boobs and your unconscious face.

“fuck,” he lets out a low groan. he squeezes his cock harder. you whimper in your sleep, and turn back around. he smirks and cups your breast, still jerking off to the sight of your body. he moans quietly until he reaches his high, shuddering as his cum spurts all over your chest. he chuckles quietly.

“such an innocent girl,” he whispers. he peppers small kisses down your body as he moves your panties to the side. “you’d be such a good girl for me.”

regulus grunts quietly when he sees your pussy. he’s immediately hard again. his tip teases the entrance of your cunt. he bites his lip. “you won’t mind if i stick it in just a little bit, hm?”

you’re still fast asleep. as he enters just the aching head of his cock inside of you, you unconsciously spread your legs wider. he lets out a small chuckle, rubbing your thighs. he grinds against you desperately, whimpering like a bitch in heat just from your virgin pussy.

oh my god, he thinks as he thrusts, pushing himself inside even more. i’m taking her virginity and she doesn’t even know.

“so fucking tight,” his breath hitches as he bottoms out, his large cock reaching deep inside you. “pretty little virgin.”

he pounds into you desperately, and you stay asleep during all of this. his moans become hoarse as his orgasm comes close. he knows he shouldn’t come inside you… but the way your pussy clenches around him and how warm your insides feel— he spills inside immediately. his head throws back as he comes, mouth wide open and he’s gotten completely reckless. he’s moaning loudly.

regulus pulls out. he takes out his phone and takes a picture of your disheveled state. it’s wrong, and he feels an immense amount of guilt, but oh, he’s gonna jerk off to that later. he spends the next few minutes using his fingers to scoop his cum out, and cleans your cum-covered boobs. just a few minutes later, and you’re back to normal. he kisses your lips softly before leaving your room.

he sees you in the morning, eating breakfast in the great hall. you smile and wave at him, regulus immediately walks over to you.

“hi reggie,” you smile as you eat your food. “how’d you sleep?”

“good…” he chuckles nervously. “and you?”

“i slept good but,” you frown. “i must’ve slept wrong because my legs are so sore.”

“oh. that’s weird. you want reggie to massage your legs for you?” he smiles, feigning innocence. you nod and make plans for him to come over to your dorm later so he can massage your thighs.

pt 2 pt 3

masterlist

#regulus black #regulus black smut #marauders era #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #perv!regulus black #james potter smut #marauders fanfiction #james potter x reader #marauders x you #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin x reader #harry potter fanfic

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

midnights, 6 * mv1

a thunderstorm keeps you up at night, the same way it kept max up

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: i was going to post and update my fem!driver but tumblr keeps reverting back to an old version and idK WHATS WRONG WITH TUMBLRRRR!!! i pUT MY WHOLE PUSSY INTO THAT BRO

(prev) // (next)

you sigh, hanging your towel onto the rack. the thunderstorm had been building up to what it is now the entire time you were out for dinner with alexandra and charles.

luckily, charles had offered to drive tonight. you weren’t given the hard task of navigating the streets late at night in the rain.

as much as solitary was what you craved all night, your mind seemed to change every time the thunder got a little too loud for your liking. suddenly, you were crying for help in your head that the night wouldn’t end too soon.

alas, here you are in your apartment while the rain raged on outside.

you try your hardest not to let the thunder get to you. but it’s almost impossible when the lightning lights up half of the room and the thunder rumbles in your chest.

it’s mind numbingly empty, being in your apartment during a thunderstorm without max by your side. even when he’s away, he always finds a way to stick by your side when the rain is pouring. all because he knows how much you hate it.

you’ve always felt bad keeping him up late when the weather decides to act up. he claims that it’s no problem, because your wellbeing is what matters the most, but you can’t help it.

you always note the way he struggles to keep awake on nights like these, his responses delayed by seconds at time when the gears in his head are slowed. but you also realised that he’d gotten better at staying up just to make you feel comforted and heard.

he eventually found different ways to keep you company during the long hours of a rainy night, the sounds only bothering you mildly when he’s there.

when he's away, it got harder to deal with. his voice over the speaker on your phone is too soft compared to what it is when he's in the room with you. it's the lack of a comforting embrace as well that made it that much harder to deal with.

jimmy and sassy often helped with coping with a thunderstorm a lot. they would snuggle up into your waist and purr when you cover them with a blanket while you're on the call with max.

but now you're all alone.

it's just you and the shadows of your poorly lit apartment.

you turn around and sigh loudly at the emptiness. it's a cold evening, so you're now by your dresser as you search for a sweatshirt to warm yourself up with.

you thought that you'd disposed of everything that screamed max, but you're immediately proven wrong when you notice a dark-coloured sleeve poking out of your bright-coloured selection of clothes.

dark coloured clothing means one thing. it only ever leads to one person - max.

your hands shake by your side as you stare at the sleeve, not finding the strength in yourself to grab it. you'd forgotten that you had one of his jackets from way before you moved into his apartment.

every breath you take feels heavier, the grief of losing max weighing you down once more. tears fill your eyes as you try to remember how the red bull jacket even ended up in your closet in the first place.

typically, you'd remember like it was yesterday. but for some reason, you can't remember it. and you want to be able to remember it. forgetting max and everything you've been through is never part of the plan.

you want to remember every single detail about that relationship you shared. it was the happiest couple of years you've had, the highs and lows of his career affecting you just as much while you tried your best to be there for him. you'd been there for most of it.

it feels odd now that you're not there anymore. you wonder if he feels the emptiness without you too.

when he started his career in formula 1, you entered his life months after that. you'd been there when he was promoted to the main racing team and you were there for every single podium finish thereafter. you'd even been there for every single crash and hospital visit.

you were there and suddenly you're not showered in champagne every weekend, reeking of the alcohol that soaked your clothes and hair.

a loud rumble makes you flinch, hands flying up to cover your ears. it doesn't get any easier dealing with it - the rumbling in your chest that accompanied the loud roar outside the window.

but you can't resist. you grab the jacket from your closet anyway, throwing the hanger back inside. you jump onto your bed and wrap the blanket over your shoulders and grab your phone from your nightstand.

you dial a number unconsciously and hold the phone up to your ear as you await an answer. you choke up when the ringing stops, knowing well yourself that this is not the person you meant to call. it's just to stick to your principle of backing up the break-up that you never wanted but brought up.

"hey."

"mum, i miss him," you sob into the phone, your hand coming up to your chest as you feel it close in on itself. "i miss max."

"i know, baby." you hear some shuffling from the other side of the line, then a hushed whisper from your father. the door shuts before your mother says something to you again. "but this is for the best, isn't it? you guys have not been happy for so long."

this makes you sob even harder, your wails being tuned out by the rain that has gotten stronger in the past second. the roaring in the night sky barely bothers you now.

you just want max.

"we are happy," you defend yourself and the relationship. nobody knows what happened. nobody knows that even if you fought endlessly, you were still happy when you pushed it all aside. you were happy with max. "we were happy. i ruined it, mama."

you resort to putting a hand over your mouth as you start to sob harder. if you'd known the rain was going to be such a trigger, you would have just gone to sleep the moment you stepped foot into your apartment.

"i love him," you manage to whisper. you close your eyes as the tears continue to fall, leaning your head on your headboard. the picture frame on your bedside table still stands tall, making you contemplate if you should hang up and call max instead. "i don't think i'll ever get over him."

but your mother will always be looking out for you. she doesn't encourage you to call him. she just says, "get it off your chest, baby. i'm here."

and you spend the next 3 hours crying over max, your framed picture sitting by your knee as you talk about him. you only fall asleep when the thunderstorm stops, wrapped in his jacket that weirdly still smelled just like him.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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sameheart-sameblood · 1 year

Text

Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand.

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life.

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask.

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather.

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before.

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out.

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn.

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again.

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs.

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.”

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.”

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?”

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?”

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.”

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.”

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic.

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower.

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood.

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in.

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope.

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state.

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.”

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on.

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.”

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?”

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it.

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.”

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying.

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to.

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.”

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.”

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers.

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms.

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over.

******

#im on a mission to make joel as soft as possible lol #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #allie writes

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recklesssturniolo · 6 months

Text

Bet - C.S

As per request for a no nut November bet Chris and reader make (: but I also tied in another request for public sex w Chris in it too!

*FYI MATT FIC IS BEING POSTED LATER*

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

“Y/N you know what November is?” Chris asks.

“What are you on about now?” You retort.

“November is no nut November, therefore no sex for the entire month” He explains.

“You can barely go a day without sex, never mind a month” You laugh.

“Oh yeah? Want to bet on it” He smirks.

You roll your eyes knowing this is the easiest bet ever, Chris was horny 24/7, he’s out of his mind if he thinks he’d last a month.

“Sure, first person to give in loses” You say sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal” He replies shaking your hand. “Be prepared to lose”

It’s been a week. Quite possibly the longest week of your life. Chris’ non-stop teasing was driving you insane. Constantly having his hand on your thigh rubbing it up and down, whispering all the things he wants to do to you in your ear, grabbing your ass, going as far to grinding on you while you two make out which made you ache for him. You’d decided you were going to tease him back, but worse.

You were getting read to out to dinner with his brothers, Nate and Madi. Chris and you both in his room as you finish your makeup. Standing up you go to figure out an outfit but knowing you purposely but on a lingerie set that you knew made Chris go insane, you take off your shirt and sweatpants. You feel Chris’ eyes on you as you search through the closet, making sure to take your time.

“What about this dress?” You ask showing it to him.

“That one’s nice” He replies, barely even looking at the dress and instead looking at your body.

Knowing your plan was working you walk closer to him.

“Are you sure? You think the colour is okay?” You knew the dress was fine, you just knew getting closer to him would only turn him on more.

“I know what you’re doing Y/N” Chris says to you, ignoring your questions.

You bend over so your face is hovering above him as he lays on the bed, pushing your chest closer to his face, “Yeah? Is that why I can see your hard on and I haven’t even touched you?”

“Put the dress on before I fuck you so hard you can’t walk to dinner tonight” Chris replies.

“But then you’d lose the bet, wouldn’t want that would we?” You smirk at him, going further and straddling him. There wasn’t any denying that the feeling of his hard on was turning you on, but you focused your attention back to just him.

Chris groaned at the contact from you sitting on him, placing his hands on your hips and slightly pushing you down harder on himself.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself now, I’m not losing the bet sweetheart. I might like what I see but I’ll have you begging for it” He smirks.

Not sure of what to respond, you connect your lips and begin grinding yourself on him, causing both of you to moan. You knew even by just doing this you could get him close, and that was exactly your plan. You continued grinding on him, honestly enjoying it just as much as he was but when you could tell he was close, you got up.

“Now I should probably put this dress on so we can go!” You smile.

“Fucking hell, there’s no fucking way you just did that to me” Chris says.

“Did what?” You reply innocently. “Can you zip this dress for me?”

Chris stands up and walks towards you, “Don’t act all innocent, I could feel how wet you were. You want me just as badly as I want you”

You shrug in response, kissing his cheek before leaving the room to leave for dinner.

Now at dinner, Chris is on some tangent about god knows what, and you decide to place your hand on his thigh. Instantly causing his body to tense up, and his eyes to flicker over to you.

“No Chris continue I get what you’re saying” You say, wanting to see just how much you could get away with.

Chris continued talking, and you began palming his dick through is pants.

“Well yeah b-but” Chris stumbles on his words, not being able to fully focus on what’s he’s saying from what you’re doing.

Nick takes over the conversation. You now put your hand under Chris’ jeans on top of his boxers, continuing to palm him.

“Fuck sakes” He mumbles.

“You okay baby?” You smirk up at him as you put your hand under his boxers, grabbing his dick and swiping the tip with your thumb noticing the pre cum that’s there.

Chris let out a moan, immediately covering it up with a cough. No one else really paying any mind to it.

“You know, I took off my parties before we left” You whisper in his ear.

That was Chris’ final straw, he didn’t give a fuck about the bet any more. He needed you.

Cutting Nate off Chris tells the table that you aren’t feeling well and that you’re both going to get an Uber home. You apologize for ‘not feeling well’ and you both say your goodbyes. You knew what this meant - you won. You started walking towards to exit before Chris grabbed your hand.

“Not a fucking chance, bathroom, now. I’m not waiting any longer. Fuck the stupid bet” He demands.

You were surprised by this, Chris had never been so needy that you did it in a public space. Getting into the washroom he pushes your back against the door and immediately starts making out with you.

“God you’re a fucking whore, doing that to me in front of everyone” He says with his hand wrapped around your throat. You moaned back in response.

You were getting exactly what you wanted, you loved seeing Chris like this. He’s wasting no time, he bends you over the counter and pulls his pants down and pulling up your dress.

“Chris” You whine out as he rubbed his dick against your entrance, teasing you.

“Oh what? You don’t like being teased?” He replies.

“Please just fuck me” You reply.

“Oh I’m going to, and you’re going to watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you like the whore you are, got it?” He says while lining himself up.

“Yes yes just please” You moan out.

With that Chris slammed into you his pace already fast.

“God I’ve missed your pussy, so fucking tight” He groans out. Continuing to slam himself into you, each thrust hitting you in the perfect place.

“Chris you make me feel so good” You whine out, feeling your legs starting to tremble.

Unaware that you had even closed your eyes, Chris grabs your hair and lifts your head back up, “I told you to watch yourself get fucked by me, keep your eyes open”

“Yes yes I’m sorry, please keep going” You slur out, now watching in the mirror as Chris picks up his pace even more.

“You miss this baby? My dick deep inside you?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

“God fuck yes Chris I’ve missed it so much” You whimper, “I’m close”

“Good, come for me like the whore you are” He replies and moves his hand around you and starts rubbing your clit.

Any sentence you tried to get out from that point on was incomprehensible, the pleasure not allowing you to focus on anything else.

“Oh my god, I’m coming Chris don’t stop” You moan out. Not caring how badly your legs were shaking or how loud you were being, letting yourself ride out your high.

Chris too was about to come, meaning he was going as hard as he possibly could now, well aware there’d be bruises on your hips from how tight his grasp was.

“Such a pretty girl, you gonna let me come in you baby?” Chris asks.

“Yes” You whisper through slight pants.

You feel Chris’ dick twitch inside of you and him release himself. His pace slowing down as he moans out in pleasure.

After helping you clean yourself up, Chris stops you momentarily, “we are never doing a bet like that again, I’m never going that long without you, I’ll go insane”

“Agreed” You laugh.

You walk out ahead of Chris, him waiting a couple moments before leaving himself. What you both weren’t expecting was for the group you told you were leaving due to you ‘not feeling well’ to be standing at the exit.

“What the hell you guys are still here?” Nick asks.

You and Chris both look at each other, your cheeks heating up as you both tried to come up with an excuse.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader #fem!oc #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit

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repulsiveliquidation · 6 months

Text

Nightmares and Hot Chocolate

Leah Williamson x Reader

warnings: angst, nightmares, soothing the loml.

11PM, Friday Night

Leah just got home from a night out with the Arsenal girls. Team bonding was important to the captain and the girls decided on going for a spot of dinner after late practice on Friday. The hard rap of her shoes on the hard wood floors rang through the apartment and the jingle of her keys signaled you of her return. You didn’t want to join them for dinner, deciding to have a little time to yourself while Leah enjoyed herself. You had a movie going, big bowl of popcorn and a little facemask on. You’ve been stressed at work for a while, when you told Leah about your little self-care plan, she was a little jealous to say the least.

“Hello, love.” Leah said softly as she walked into the bedroom, dopey smile on her face.

“Hi baby, how was dinner?” You looked up from where you were snuggled into her side of the bed, popcorn laid forgotten on your side of the bed. Siting up, she came over to you and kissed your forehead. You smiled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. She started to undress, eager to jump into bed and join you for the rest of your movie.

“It was nice, the girls missed you though. McCabe teased you of bailing ‘cause you didn’t like them anymore!” Leah said with a laugh, rummaging through your closet in search of your clothes instead of hers. You just sat up and watched her, eyes full of admiration for her that she didn’t see in that moment. She disappeared into the bathroom, her night routine taking barely 10 minutes so you weren’t going to be waiting on her long.

“So, what did you do all night hm?” Leah yelled from the bathroom; mouth clearly full of toothpaste.

“Where are your manners, Leah Cathrine? I just had leftovers and was watching the movie. I felt like having popcorn so I made a bag but it doesn’t taste the same as when you make it. It’s from a microwave bag, how it can taste different to when you do it is beyond me.” You answer with a wide grin when she pokes her head out of the bathroom to stick her tongue out at you.

“Well, I make it with love. You clearly went without it. But that’s a secret, I’ll kill you if you tell.” she answers walking back into the room, wearing your shorts and your t-shirt. You had moved the popcorn bowl into the kitchen and brought more pillows into the little nest you tried to make on the big bed. Leah; the child that she is; belly flops onto your hard work, sinking right into the middle of the bed and pulling your surprised form into her arms with a yelp. You turn and grin, snuggling into her strong arms.

“I missed you. I still haven’t gotten a kiss you know. Now, that’s bad manners.” Leah quips, grinning down at you as you look up at her. Her eyes are so blue and mesmerizing you almost didn’t hear her. She kisses you before you can answer, lips warm and breath minty. It’s almost too good, your lips molding into hers like the last piece of a puzzle; completely perfect. You’ve been together three years now but every time you kiss, she swears is better than the last.

Pulling away, you answer in an out of breath whisper, “I missed you too, Lee.” She surges forward again, kissing you harder than before. Her arm wraps around your shoulders tighter, her other hand cupping your cheek as your hands hold onto her shirt tightly in balled fists. You make out for a while, whispering things about your day to each other, boring movie on the telly forgotten.

3:30AM, Saturday Morning.

You wake up with a jolt, tears cascading down your cheeks. You’re out of breath, hair a downright mess. You immediately check on Leah, you didn’t even feel her wake up with you. The fear in your eyes scare her for a fraction of a second before she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into her chest.

“I’m here darling, it was just a bad dream. You’re okay, you’re safe.” She mumbles into your ear. Her deep, sleepy voice somehow gets you to start to calm down. She somehow pulls you even closer, making you sit between her legs with your back against her chest.

“Shh, darling. I need you to tell me three things you feel babygirl. Just like we practiced, hm? Can you do that for me, sweet?” Leah soothingly whispered in your ear, your breathing slowly coming down. You were shaking, her arms snaking around your waist and rubbing your clammy skin soothingly.

“U-Uh, the blanket, y-your breath, y-your hands touching m-me…” you stammered out, earning a soft kiss to your ear and a “good job baby,” from Leah.

She rocked you from side to side, knowing it soothed you. “I need three things you see, beautiful.”

You took a deep, reassured breath and began to speak, “Y-Your jacket, my computer a-and the street lamp,” your hand gripped hers, fingers intertwined on your stomach.

“I’m so proud of you, my girl. Last one, I need three things you can hear, my love.” She asked, voice just above a whisper, lips softly peppering kisses on your shoulder.

“The bathroom light, your heart, a car going by.” You give her, no sign of fear in your voice. “Yes!” Leah thinks, proud of herself for calming you and proud of you for trusting her.

“I’m so proud of you darling, did so well for me.” She turns you around in her arms, scooting back against the headboard with you straddling her lap. You fiddle with your fingers, not wanting to look at her. The streetlamp shines a soft glow into the room, both of your faces barely visible to the other. She grabs your chin softly and turns your gaze at her. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You nod slowly, bottom lip quivering slightly. She wraps her arms around you again, ready to soothe you a second time as the tears begin to fall but this time, in a relief sort of way.

“Someone broke onto the pitch and got to you. He hurt the girls too, I couldn’t get to you in time, you died in my arms Lee, it just felt so real.” You sob into her neck, Leah rubbing your back and shushing you.

“I’m sorry that happened baby, no one’s gonna get me. I promise.”

“What if someone does?”

“I won’t let ‘em baby. If they do, I know you’ll be there to save me.”

“You can’t get hurt again; promise me.”

“I promise, my love. Now, how about some hot chocolate?”

Slowly clambering out of bed, you both walk hand in hand into the kitchen. You jump up to sit on the counter as Leah makes the hot chocolate. She can’t cook to save her life but she manages to make a good hot chocolate. The two of you sip in silence when you notice yours has more marshmallows than hers.

You were lucky to have her and she thought the same of you.

#woso soccer #arsenal wfc x reader #leah williamson #leahwilliamson x reader #nightmares #engwnt #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #womens football #lionesses #woso community

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sentientfunfetti · 7 months

Note

Yandere! Actor Wally, please...

possessive actor!wally/reader hcs

(actor wally and his au was made by @/frillsand on tumblr! go support their work!)

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!

CW// POSSESSIVE THEMES

of course, like any other version of him, this one would be very cautious and closed off at first. he wouldn’t share much with you and if he does it’s brief, but after you ‘prove yourself’ to him he immediately becomes attached to you. he's absolutely stuck by you. you're just his assistant but he falls hard. harder than he ever has.

seeing as how you’re the first person to ever see him for who he is, he lets you get away…with a lot. it’s all bias of course, and you may not even use it but you start to notice that your small mistakes barely go noticed. he doesn't even allow anyone else to scold you either. you can tell that his patience is still thin, however.

he values your time with him. in his downtime he’s hellbent on spending time with you and you only, even if this means dragging you along on subtly planned ‘lunch breaks’ with him. (these are dates) or calling you for petty tasks he could have easily done himself just to see you.

he likes spoiling you, and that becomes very obvious very fast. he loves it when you tell him ‘thank you’ for buying you lunch or getting you coffee. he goes from sending you in to get these things for him to go in with you, bringing his bodyguards along.

you take up so much of his mind he starts to stumble in rehearsal. this actually frustrates him at first. he takes his frustration out on you a tad before finally cooling down.

practically demands all of your attention. he goes to you for just about everything. input, script reading, any excuse to see you. any excuse to get closer. he hates the fact that you two have such a professional relationship and wants to be more, even if that means breaking a few rules. it's not like you're a fan, you're his assistant. no harm done.

ignores fanmail entirely. when you ask why he brushes it off the way he usually does. "why would i want a bunch of strangers telling me what i already know?". the truth is very different, however. he secretly wishes to be praised by you and you only.

speaking of, he may not show it but he soaks up any and all praise you give him and internalizes it almost immediately. no matter how small. he loves it when you compliment him.

it's hard to keep his cool when he sees you getting the same treatment from others, however. he silently watches from the corner, fuming. how dare they. until he can muster up the courage to fully compliment you himself, he glares daggers at people who do. repeat offenders get fired and blacklisted from acting entirely.

he is not above blackmail to get his way. not to you, no of course not! other people, however? free game. he has dirt on just about everyone. they don't even know.

even though he has a tendency of doing horrible things to get his way, he always tries to steer away from that entirely. he keeps trying to convince himself that he’s above that and he’s a changed man. unfortunately, you make that a bit hard with how many other people you seem to attract every other day.

appreciates your patience with him most of all. set aside the fact you're not weird about the fact that he's a puppet like most people, he loves your kind heart and wants to protect that, even if that means burning bridges to see more of you. he craves intimacy with you. he hates how weak you make him feel, but he can't help but let all of those walls come crumbling down when you're that nice to him.

isn't good with physical contact at first, so he sticks to small things: 'accidental' brushes against you, linking pinkies with you, shoving you along. he’s experimenting, give him time.

drags you along to rehearse his lines. he loves using his 'deadlines' as an excuse to get your help. he knows he could ask anyone else but why would he? you say yes every time anyway because that's how nice you are. he absolutely loves the scenes where he gets to subtly flirt with you. did the script call for improv? ssssh. doesn't matter. your red face makes it all worth it in the end.

is not above using the character he's playing mannerisms to get his way. he knows he's good at what he does, and he knows he's adorable. he uses this to his advantage, even incorporating past character's mannerisms into his own when he notices people stick to them. this includes you. if he notices you like a certain thing about a character he's playing he is quick to pick up on this and use that against you.

in the end, his end goal is for you to date, and maybe be something more in the future. he's willing to do whatever that takes, even if that means working on himself more just to make sure you're more comfortable with the idea of dating. has no issue with having a 'secret' relationship if that's what you want.

isn't much of a pet name person but he would call you 'hun' sarcastically at first but over time it would become a genuine pet name for him.

if you two do something together then expect that to be something you two do together. he would get upset at people who try and 'butt in' in the things you two do together. those things are for you two and you two only. certified gatekeeper.

author’s note ⊹˚. ♡

funny thing! i actually got two requests to do this guy!

it was a bit hard to do seeing as how i don’t really know much about the au, but thank you for requesting it anyway! (both of you LMFAO). i have a few more planned, and two more requests to do. i’m still working on my reboot wally/reader fic so if i seem a bit slow that’s why. please be patient. i already have the outlines and things like that made for the requests i’ve gotten.

thanks for the request, neighbor!

#welcome home au #welcome home #wally darling #wally please i have a family #welcome home fanfic #i love wally #possessive wally darling #yandere wally darling headcanons #yandere wally x reader #actor wally au #actor wally darling #welcome home wally #wally darling headcanons #yandere wally darling #yandere welcome home

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caeunot · 3 months

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hii first of all i love your writing and im so glad i came across your fics 🖤 i was wondering if you could maybe write a johnnie x fem reader, enemies to lovers fic? or something along the lines of johnnie and fem reader always bullying each other a bit only to realise they've been crushing on each other the whole time?

johnnie guilbert x reader

enemies to lovers 18+

➷ you hated his guts, everything about him irritated you and made your skin crawl. you are friends with jake and you absolutely love him to bits so you spending time with him normally equals to you having to be around johnnie. these feelings aren't without reason though, your not the type of girl to hate on others very easily.

it happened a few years back, when your own youtube career recently jumpstarted and you started spending time with other similar youtubers near you. this is how you originally met johnnie, even before jake. you were first invited to a party hosted by some popular la youtuber at the time and you obviously took the invite since you knew this would not only help you make more friends in the industry but to also promote yourself!

you were greeting everyone and taking many pictures as the night went on, fully using this opportunity to the best of your ability. as it hit 12 you decided to look around and scope out the last person you want to introduce yourself to before you head home. you saw a short-ish guy with deep red emo hair swooped to the side with harsh makeup around his eyes and you were immediately intriged. you preferred a more grunge look yourself so seeing someone with such familiar fashion made you feel at ease.

"hey im y/n!" you say, introducing yourself. "do I know you?" he says coldly as he turns to see who was speaking to him. "no but everyone will soon the way my channel is going" you say with some sass so you can counter his rudeness. "you have way too much confidence" he says with a smirk. "so I've been told".

"what's your name?" you ask, "my names johnnie, johnnie guilbert". "well nice to meet you johnnie" you say with a smile. "what do you do for a living? if I can ask", " I make youtube videos and I also make some music on the side!" he says. you two talk for a little longer before you check the time seeing its quite past what you had planned. "hey it was great meeting you! I don't want to stay too long so I think I should get going!"

as you say goodbye and walk away you feel him grab you by your wrist, you turn around. "wait don't go yet, your the most interesting person I've spoken to today and I don't want to go home just yet" you bite your lip, "fine, how about I just walk you to your car then". he rolls his eyes, "is that all? anyways I don't even have a car, I came with uber"

"wait why did you take an uber?", you say confused, "do I really have to say". "yes", " okay, I can't drive.. happy?" you scrunch up your face, you don't feel comfortable letting him go home with an uber this time of night. "I don't mind giving you a lift! then you can talk to me during the ride all you want"

you walked him to your car and he got in on the passenger seat, let me just say that convincing him to let you take him home was harder than you imagined, but you could see in his face he appreciated it.

"why are you doing this again?" he asks as you start driving. "because I'm a nice person and I don't trust ubers". he nods, "I like your piercings" he says, observing your face in the dim lighting. "thanks!" you say as you stick out your tongue, showing your snake eyes. "oh shit I've never seen that in person before, it looks great". you blush slightly, "it was pretty painful and it's hard to upkeep but I don't regret it at all".

he brushes his hands through his hair, probably anxious from the small talk. "this might sound weird but, do you have a girlfriend" you ask. "I don't, why?", "it's because I figured that if u did she would be the one driving u home from a party, so I was just curious". "haven't had one in years", he says leaning back. "really? your really hot so I'd imagine girls would be all over you".

he laughs, "maybe in the past but not anymore, my sense of fashion and my lack of confidence kinda makes getting a girlfriend hard" he says, opening up to you effortlessly. "I think emo guys are hot" you turn and look at him.

"what are you implying?" he says, giving a lewd grin. "that if I had the choice to either have sex with you or not have sex with you that I would". you notice him squirm slightly in his seat. "if you mean that, pull over" he says

you do as he says and you climb into the back seat. you crawl into his lap and find yourself grabbing and pulling on anything you can find as you feel his tounge slip deep into your mouth, tasting the alcohol he had ingested that night. you wish you could recall the rest but you were much drunker than you thought you were and ended up slightly blacking out.

the moral of the story is that you gave him your number, and he never came back after that. not a call, not even a single text. you never ever hooked up with guys, this was your first time. and you hate how knowing a guy for just one hour could make you feel such strong feelings towards him, for johnnies case those feelings were a mix of lust and disgust.

back to current times, you ended up meeting jake a year later and that's when you saw johnnie again for the first time since that night. but instead of apologizing or at least being honest he instead found himself ignoring you. this frustrated you the most, you despise a man who cannot own up to his actions, let alone not even acknowledging them. every time you found yourself around him you felt your blood boil and you just wanted to give him a peice of your mind, but you can't.

you can't since it's been 5 months since and neither of you have said anything at all, 5 months of pure pretend. jake noticed your dislike towards his roommate but he didn't want to get involved in any issues that didn't require him, which you appreciated greatly.

after a lot of convincing, jake did eventually get the both of you to film a video together with him. it was one of those food rating videos and the goal was to order one type of food for everyone, jake said that I will do the drinks, johnnie the main and jake the desert. you were dreading this.

and you have been dreading this day for the past month since jake started bringing it up. you couldn't even handle being in the same room as him for a few minutes let alone a whole video.

"let's plan what we will order now so that we don't have to think to hard tomorrow!' jake says as you sat down on the couch next to him and opposite from johnnie. "I already know what I'm making you guys eat", "let it be actual food and not just chicken nuggets please" jake says jokingly. "knowing johnnie he will probably poison mine" you say with a scoff. a few minutes later jake started getting a call from someone and had to leave, aka leaving you alone with johnnie.

"why would you say that?" johnnie said to you the moment jake left the room. "say what?", "say that I'd poison your food, it's rude". you laugh from the pure nerve this guy has. "don't fuck with me, don't act like your the victim here". "says the one starting unnecessary shit". " I'm not starting anything, you started and I'm just continuing". the tension in the room was cut as jake walks back in, "sorry guys that was my studio, anyways where were we!" he looks between the two of you and johnnie gets up and leaves, saying he's not feeling well.

that evening you sat down in the passengers seat of jakes car, you breathe in and out meditatively to calm your nerves. "okay everything is orderd we just gotta wait for the food!" jake says climbing into his seat of the car and started prepping for the recording. you fiddle with your rings and move around your hair for a solid 12 minutes before johnnie got in the car with the food in hand.

the video started off fine, you didn't laugh at his jokes and he didn't laugh at yours. you two didn't even make eye contact, that was untill it was jakes turn. "okay guys for johnnie I got him a really massive chocolate chip cookie because hes a basic bitch and I got y/n a gummy lunchable because she's never had one" you laugh since the idea for having gummy pizza seems so obscure. "jake that's so wrong you know I love lunchables". jake turns to you as if implying you should give him a piece.

"I rather not" you say softly, but not soft enough to where johnnie couldn't hear you, "it's literally just a lunchable what's your problem". " I never said I had a problem, it's not my fault you don't have manners and can't ask for something yourself". "I literally just said that I love lunchables, stop starting shit were recording".

jake turns around to face the both of you, "what the fuck guys, what's your problem", you look at johnnie, "ask him". " you guys are acting like fucking toddlers either tell me what happened or just sort your issues alone, like now" he says as he gets out of his car, "there's no point in keeping on filming so let's just go inside okay".

you go inside and sit down and you feel as if your in the third grade getting detention from your angry teacher Mr Webber. "so.. what happend, you two have been like this since the moment you met and I don't understand, y/n, johnnie,I love you both so much but I can't handle this bad energy", you stay quiet and so does johnnie. "okay if you guys are going to be like that I'm going to my room, just please sort something out because I promised our fans we were doing a collab". he says walking off into his room.

you bite the inside of your mouth and look around, not able to handle the awkward silence. "johnnie I just have to ask you one question, why?" he makes an upset face, "what do you mean 'why'", " you know what I mean" you say in almost a defeated tone. you stand up and walk towards where he is sitting, "I mean why didn't you text me back, why did you ghost me" he looks away. "don't be a coward please, im tired of our crap". upon hearing this he stands up.

"fine okay, I'm a fucking coward. I was too scared to message you back because I was drunk and you were drunk and I knew for a fact that nothing would happen between us because I mean look at you, your gorgeous and I know if we somehow started something in the future I would feel so guilty that we hooked up the night we met, I've only ever had sex with two people y/n!! that's you and my ex and I feel guilty for it every day because sleeping with random people is not me!!"

your feel as if your in shock, almost frozen in place. you brush your hand through your hair about to say something but nothing comes out. "I never met to hurt you at all I just, I'm stupid I'm fucking st-" you cut him off by putting your lips on his, he doesn't push you away and instead takes his arms and grabs onto you tight while pushing you against the nearest wall. "I sware I'm not usually like this" he says, breaking the kiss,"you just.. do something to me"

'fuck' you mutter as you grab onto his hair as the kiss becomes more and more passionate. he takes his hands off the wall and starts to remove your baby tee, exposing your lacy black bra. as he did this you hear something behind you and look to see jake, his mouth dropped right to the floor. johnnie immediately stood in front of you to cover your exposed skin and when he heard jake walk away he helped you put your shirt back on. "I'm so sorry" he says with the most guilty look on his face.

"shh don't be it's okay!" you say holding his face and giving him a soft kiss, "I definitely overreacted to everything because of how much I liked you, it hurt me so much that someone I felt so strongly about could shove me aside like you did". " I haven't gone a day without regretting what I did" he says. you felt so relieved that this issue between you two was finally sorted out.

"what now?" you ask, indentifying the elephant in the room. "its my turn to say sorry I shouldnt have kissed you like that it was impulsive and careless of me".

"y/n". " yes?", you ask completely confused. "I've never met someone I've wanted more then you in this moment, I want you and all of you" he says walking towards you and holding your waist, "let's not torture each other as we have, please" you smile "I'm all yours".

❣

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert imagine #johnnie guilbert smut #caeunot

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heartsforhavik · 4 months

Text

imagine waking up next to kuai liang… (sfw)

warnings: mk1 story mode spoilers, established relationship, gender neutral reader

a/n: y’all i’m so sorry i haven’t been writing lately, i feel like my motivation disappeared into thin air and the only drafts i’ve written i’m not satisfied with. thanks to everyone still sticking around <3 also i just wrote this off the top of my head. it’s 2 am. this is a draft. not proofread, not planned or anything, it’s completely raw.

you woke up in your shared bed with kuai liang, opening your eyes to see him still sleeping by your side. his hair was undone and messy, he had his lips slightly parted and a bit of drool was escaping from his mouth, which you chuckled at.

you remembered staying up that night just to greet him when he returned home. it seemed that he was working harder ever since he formed the shirai ryu. kuai liang started arriving home later and later, which made you feel a bit lonely. you understood that he was simply busy, but you just wanted to spend more time with him.

so when he returned that night, you two were finally able to go to bed at the same time. and now you also get to wake up at the same time.

you gently moved his hair away from his eyes, revealing his face. kuai liang’s new scar thankfully didn’t hinder his looks, and he was still the same handsome man that you always loved. you took a moment to admire him before he woke up. his skin was smooth, his hair was just as shiny and silky as always. it was almost amusing how he managed to still look handsome in his sleep.

after you spent a couple minutes silently admiring your lover, the shirai ryu’s grandmaster began to awake from his rest. he slowly opened his eyes, and as soon as they landed on you, he smiled.

“good morning, my love. did you sleep well?” he asked in a soft tone, as he gently rubbed your cheek.

“i did. but to be honest, it didn’t matter how i slept. i was just happy to finally have the same sleep schedule as you for once.” you professed.

kuai liang laughed softly. “i am pleased that we were able to enjoy a night together again, but…” he paused, then sighed and looked down in shame. “i fear i may have neglected you. i understand if you are angry at me-”

“don’t say that.” you interrupted. “there is no need to apologize for being busy. besides, you have a lot on your plate after bi-han’s betrayal. i know it is out of your control. i can tell that you’re doing everything that you can for me, and i appreciate it.” you reassured, as you ran your fingers through his hair.

kuai liang sighed in response to your affection, and closed his eyes in contentment, savoring the domestic moment with you.

he used to be filled with repentance at the realization that he was starting to leave you alone more and more as the days went by. but as soon as you expressed that you understood his work ethic and his anguish after his brother’s betrayal, he felt as if a weight was lifted from his chest.

“thank you... i don’t know what i did to deserve you.” kuai liang praised, as he gave you a kiss on the forehead and got up from the bed.

“no need to thank me. i’m always here if you need anything, okay? i know it must be hard to lead a clan.” you sympathized.

kuai liang would never be able to describe how overjoyed he felt in that moment. he was more than thankful for your help, and he could never ask for a better partner than you. you were always there for him and you always understood him.

the love between you two was warm and pure. you both supported each other and always offered help to the other’s dilemmas. it was a relationship where you both felt safe and secure at all times. you may not be able to spend as much time together as you wish, but the very few moments you two shared were good enough to leave you both satisfied.

even on mornings like that, where you only have a scarce amount of time with kuai liang, you still manage to make it work.

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #kuai liang #mk1 kuai liang #scorpion mortal kombat #scorpion x reader #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x you #scorpion x you #scorpion mk1

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thegoldencontracts · 2 months

Text

Too Late!

You and Azul are texting each other one day when he accidentally sends you some more honest texts.

Note/Warnings: Azul/Reader, fluff with a smidgen of angst (specifically Azul insecurities, he gets comforted tho)

You loved Azul. A lot. You'd been dating him for quite a while now, after all. But you couldn't deny that it felt like he was a bit- formal with you, to say the least. Sometimes, it felt like he was playing the role of a perfect boyfriend in a Romance Novel's screen adaptation. How did he really feel? Was he happy to be somewhere, or was he just playing along so that the other students in his dorm could see how attractive and understanding he was while they seethed in envy at the fact that they were single and he wasn't?

Which was why when Azul slipped up one day when you were texting, you were very, very happy about it.

It was a boring evening, like always. You were texting Azul, complaining about your homework while lounging in your bed like always. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Zuzuuu <3: You know, if you'd like, I'd be happy to assist with your homework. It'll even be on the house, just for you.

Me: cant believe im dating a capitalist mf /lh

Me: really tho, tysmmm for helping <3 I don't deserve u bbg...

And then, something completely out of the ordinary happened.

Zuzuuu <3: how could you say that you're literally so perfect? I love you so much I keep doodling you bc you're so. Pretty. I simp so hard for you plz never say that again <3

At first, you wondered if Floyd wrote the text as a joke. It was pretty in character for him, after all. But that didn't make sense. This wasn't Floyd's way of texting, nor did it even attempt to imitate Azul's. When Floyd was in the mood to prank someone, he put in the effort to make it good.

Whatever. You took a screenshot of the message so you could treasure it forever. And lucky you, because right after you did, the message was deleted.

Zuzuuu <3: Please don't say such things about yourself, even for comedic purposes.

He was not being slick with that. You sent a text in response, giggling all the while.

Zuzuuu <3: Regardless, would you like to come over later today?

Me: Real slick hehe... Plz show me ur doodles of me they probably look so good bc you're good at art just like everything else somehow

After a while, Azul replied.

Zuzuuu <3: I don't know what you're referring to. Regardless, would you like to come over?

As much as you wanted to press, you decided not to. Too much pressing would just make Azul clam up more. You'd just have to get him in person, where it'd be harder for him to run away when you showed him the screenshot.

Me: Sureee! Heading over right now

And so, you set out for Octavinelle, evidence in hand. You were going to make him admit he sent that text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you got to Azul's room, you had everything planned out. He wasn't usually so candid with you, and he was clearly ashamed of it when he was. You were going to figure out why.

You knocked on the door, and Azul opened it, letting you in.

"Come in," he said, tone even more formal than usual, by some miracle.

"Thanks," you said, taking a seat.

"So, about that text-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azul said, quick to cut you off.

"So quick to interrupt, Azul!" You said with a mock-pout, before grinning as you pulled up the screenshot on your phone. "But I think you do."

First, Azul's mouth hung open in shock. Then, his whole face turned red, lip quivering as a high-pitched whine left his mouth. Then, he moved to snatch the phone from your hands.

You narrowly dodged, and you couldn't resist sticking out your tongue at him.

"Too slow!" You laughed as he tried to grab the phone from you again, only to fail even more without the element of surprise on his side, because for all of Azul's many strengths, speed wasn't one of them.

"Delete that at once!" He shrieked, voice cracking in the middle.

He kept trying to grab it for a while, before finally giving up.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, pouting like a kid. Cute. "You win. Are you satisfied now?"

"Very," you said, "because I get to see you. Your actual thoughts. Not just the ultra-filtered version."

Azul scoffed at that, seemingly in disbelief, though you saw the way he stifled a smile.

"Don't flatter me," he said. "My 'true thoughts' are not something you'd want to see in the slightest. Merely a more pathetic, messy version of what I already tell you."

"And that's precisely why I want to hear it," she said. "You sound so perfect all the time that I wonder whether you're really being honest with me, you know. It's just so refreshing to see you be gushy and candid about things. And pretty cute."

"How odd," he said, before turning to you with a face more genuine. "Thank you. For what little it's worth, I'll try to be a tad more honest with you. I can't promise anything, though."

You smiled.

"That's all I ask."

And really, truly, that was enough.

Bonus:

"So, how'd you learn so much internet lingo? Never took you for that kinda guy."

"I'm in the board games club with Idia Shroud. What did you expect?"

#azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul x you #azul Ashengrotto x you #hurt/comfort #twst x reader #aaah i love the mafia octoboy sm <3

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jediavengers · 2 months

Note

you want requests. i’m here. i’ll give you requests.

anakin who fucks you so good you can’t bear to say no to him cumming inside, even if it’s a terrible idea

Holy shit Thirza I love you. I’m eating your requests up they’re so scrumptious. Sending you kisses.

PLAN B ⋆₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

Warnings: 18+, piv, choking, degradation, breeding kink if you squint, slapping, choking, sub!reader, dom!anakin

Pairing: Afab!reader x Anakin Skywalker

Anakin’s death grip on your body was almost painful, but the feeling of his cock stretching out your pillowy walls had you nearly unaware of anything other than your bodies molding together.

His hands roamed every place you could imagine. Your hips, your breasts, your ass. Your face was mercilessly shoved into your pillow, your ass sticking up in the air as he relentlessly bullied your poor hole.

Anakin could tell you were close, so, to egg you on, he slapped your ass hard enough to leave a bright red hand print. “Such a little slut.” He grunted, gripping your hips harder as he pounded you. “Can feel you bout to cum all over me. Where do you want my cum, baby?”

Your response was basically inaudible, only a series of babbles and whines erupting from your mouth.

“Your face? Your tits? What about your mouth? You want it in your mouth?” Anakin tightened his grip on you.

You couldn’t seem to speak, so you continued to babble, attempting to answer him but to no avail.

“I see..” He darkly chuckled. Anakin’s right hand gripped your throat, pulling you up roughly so your back was pressed against his chest.

The new position and his grip on you had you gasping for air from the intense amount of pleasure and slightly blocked airway. “Can I put my cum in your pretty little pussy, baby? That’s okay with you?”

You tried to interject, you tried to tell him no. But white hot pleasure overtook your body and you let out a strangled moan that gurgled in your throat.

How could you say no to a man who fucks you so good?

Clawing at his hand that was wrapped around your neck, you gasped for air as your orgasm hit you.

Kindly, Anakin pulled his hand away, instead roughly gripping your boob to pinch your hardened nipple. “Gonna cum, angel. Gonna cum in that tight little pussy, okay?” Anakin’s once strong and rough voice was cracking, turning soft and whiny.

You felt yourself gush all over his cock just as spurts of his cum filled your pussy. “That’s it, take it, take all of it.” He growled in your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular.

After you both had rode out your climax’s and took a moment to catch your breath, Anakin pulled out of you and gently flipped you over so you were on your back.

“Would you look at that?” He lazily smirked, sweaty and out of breath from the intense fucking that had just occurred. His fingers traced over your folds, wetting his lips as he stared at his cum oozing out of your sopping cunt. “Don’t even think about getting a plan b tomorrow.”

Requests are open! Please send them in:) Keep in mind that I might not respond right away unless i’m feeling really inspired. Also let me know if you wanted to be added to my tag list! kissies<3

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #curators on tumblr #hayden christensen #star wars anakin #sw anakin #star wars x reader #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #fanfic

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moonseonghwa · 9 months

Text

Paint me yours - K.HJ

recommend to listen to “a little death” by the neighbourhood

word count: 2k

warnings: artist!hongjoong x fem!reader, protected sex, dry-humping, praising, oral (m.& f. receiving), hongjoong's a player

a/n: surprise hihi

minors dni

The worn-out leather jacket was quickly discarded in the corner of his room after the door closed, the obvious tension finally washed away as he crashed his lips on yours, pushing you against the door as you held his face in your hands, feeling the cold metal of his lip ring. You kissed him deeply, not getting enough of it as he pulled you with him towards the bed.

Kim Hongjoong, an artist, who you met through a mutual friend. He was a prominent player, never sticking to one girl and changing relationships as frequently as his hair colors. Which he liked to do a lot.

You tried to avoid him, trying to listen to your friends’ advice, but it was so hard when you felt him stare you down every time you entered the room, practically eye-fucking you as he made no effort to hide it.

He placed you on his lap as you pulled his freshly dyed silver-colored hair, him releasing a deep groan as his hips bucked up against your core, making it harder for you to restrain yourself. He was insatiable, the way his lips devoured yours while his hands played their tricks on you, roaming over your bare waist and painting them as his. That's what he does, everything he touches becomes his in one way or another.

You were so turned on it actually made you surprise yourself, and if he continued this you might come without him even touching you. That wasn’t his plan though, making him slowly start to guide your core against his, your mouth falling open at the contact. He placed his forehead against yours, breathing labored and insanely caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize where you were anymore. But you didn’t mind, as long as it was Hongjoong touching you. His fox eyes stared into yours, before smirking as slowing your hips down, placing his already swollen lips on the base of your throat, before his tongue made its way to your mouth, taking your jaw in his hand and attaching his mouth to yours.

You swore to yourself to never fall for him, to never let yourself be consumed by him, but here you were, not wanting anything more than to take him, right here, right now, even if it was in the room next to the others.

‘’We can’t’’ You whispered, slowly coming back to your senses as you heard the door open in the room next to you. Your dress had already ridden up so much that if someone opened the door right now, both of your messy hair and pink-toned cheeks would’ve given away what must’ve happened before, even if you were quick enough to get off him.

‘’They’ll be gone soon, I heard them talking about going for drinks’’ He replied, his hand leaving your skin briefly when he noticed you weren’t comfortable with the thought of them being able to enter. ‘’You good?’’ He asked, even though he could already feel how wet you were through his pants, indicating just how good you were, just for him.

Then seconds later, you heard the front row close, followed by complete silence. You looked at Hongjoong, who gave you a knowing smile before you grabbed the chains hanging from his neck and pulled him close again, your lips on his, the only thing your brain could think about when you felt his warmth again.

‘’You’re so hot’’ He muttered against your lips, his hands moving down the back of your dress before settling on your ass as he pressed you closer against his crotch, making your eyes roll back as you started rolling your hips again, only to be met with Hongjoong muttering curse words with his rasped voice and deep breaths.

You sat back a little, enough to take off his shirt, revealing his torso with the necklaces decorating his bare chest. You started kissing down his neck, making sure to leave some marks just underneath where his shirt will be, before moving down his abs as you slowly opened his belt. You looked up at him, seeing him look at you with hooded eyes and lust on his face, his hand around the back of your neck.

‘’You’re so beautiful’’ He said, and the word choice did it for you.

You were going to give this man the best head he’ll ever have.

You freed him from his ripped jeans and boxers, before taking a minute to take in the sight. Pre-cum was already leaking down his length, indicating he was just as turned on as you.

Your tongue lapped it up, before settling on the tip as he let out a groan at the contact, the hand on your neck quickly wrapping in your hair as he guided you down his length. A loud moan left his lips because of the feeling of your warm mouth around him, and it only spurred you on more. You bobbed your head up and down, using your hand to jerk off the rest, before twirling your tongue around the tip. He was chanting your name over and over, whimpers leaving his mouth.

‘’If you keep going I’m going to come’’ He groaned, before his other hand went to the pillow next to him, holding on for dear life as the feeling felt too good.

You sucked a bit harder, before taking him more, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making him release another moan.

He pulled you off him before he lost control, leaning down and pulling your chin towards him as his tongue entered your mouth in a longing kiss.

He pulled you up a few seconds later, pushing you down on the bed. He unzipped the back of your dress before pulling it down, revealing your bare chest as he placed his lips down the valley of your breasts, slowly placing open-mouth kisses down your stomach as you sighed at the contact.

The further he got, the more he pulled your dress down, before ripping the dress open so he could easily take it off you.

‘’Joong!’’ You whisper-yelled, making him shut you up with another kiss.

‘’I’ll make you a new one’’ He smiled, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pushed you against him fully.

’’Please fuck me, Joong’’ You almost whined as you felt his tip against your clit, before he leaned back, taking off his trousers and boxers. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, taking out a condom before climbing on top of you after taking off your panties.

You felt his hand go between your legs, ‘’I didn’t have my fun yet’’ He said, before kneeling on the floor as he pulled your legs over his shoulders and latched his lips on your inner thigh.

He teased you a bit, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of his tongue against your folds, as you threw your head back at the pleasuring feeling. He was really skilled at this, and the excitement only added to it. He lapped up your juices, before entering one finger as you moaned his name, before a string of curses left your lips as he entered one more, rubbing your g-spot as he stimulated your clit with his tongue.

Just as you were about to come, he stopped, making you whimper at the lack of contact. Soon replaced by a kiss on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled back before grabbing the condom holding eye contact with you as he ripped open the package with his teeth, making butterflies erupt in your stomach because he was so hot.

He rolled the condom around his length, before lining up with your entrance, as his lips were kissing your earlobe. You felt him push in slowly, making your nails dig into his back at the delicious stretch. You let out a moan at the contact, feeling the drag of his cock inside you.

‘’You’re so tight’’ He grunted, as you moved his face to place his lips against yours, never getting tired of that feeling. You moaned into his mouth, making him smile in the kiss as he bottomed out in you, stilling to let you adjust for a second.

‘’Ready?’’ He asked after some time of both of you just breathing, lost in the moment.

‘’Yes’’ You nodded, biting your lip a the feeling of him pulling out, before pushing in just as quickly, making you throw your head back.

He was marking you up, his teeth nibbling at your neck, claiming you as his. His artwork, his project. And how you loved to be his wasn’t describable. You needed him close, wanted him to use you as he wanted to. Your painted black nails were digging into his back, leaving a red trail on it.

‘’Faster’’ You said, one hand wrapping in his dyed hair.

His pace fastened, holding your hips still as he drove himself into you deeper, making you feel all of him. You were sure that if anyone was home, they would hear exactly what was going on with the way both of you were moaning in pleasure.

He lifted one of your legs around his waist, pushing into you deeper as he got off to the pain of your nails digging into his back, and the pretty faces you were making when he was ruining you.

Ruining you because he was making you his, only for him to touch.

‘’You’re mine now’’ He said, pulling out before grabbing your waist to make you sit on his cock, and even though you’re legs were already worn out, sinking down on him and the different feeling of it made it all worth it as he pounded into you from underneath, settling on a steady pace as he locked his lips with yours

‘’You're- fuck- you’re so good for me’’ He said, holding your waist with his arm to keep you steady as he thrusts into you relentlessly, your head falling on his shoulder as you felt like you couldn’t take any more.

As if he could read your mind, he proved you differently by placing two fingers on your clit and rubbing you closer to your orgasm, making you lose your mind as you felt the high approaching too quickly.

‘’Hongjoong, too much I- mhmm’’ You moaned, feeling your high wash over you as you clenched around him intensely making him throw his head back as he pushed deeper inside you. And you’ve never come this hard, making him want to feel every part of you as he came too, releasing the warmth in the condom as he fell back on the bed, taking you with him.

His hands rubbed your hips in a comforting manner, as he whispered praises in your ear about how you were his good girl, only his.

He then pulled out of you, making you whine.

‘’Don’t worry darling, we got the whole night’’ He then said, attaching his lips to yours and starting the fun once again.

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