#this was gonna be a guts edit but i could not do it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterparkerslefttesticle · 2 years

Text

Fuck or Die

a peter parker sex pollen fic

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: peter comes into contact with sex pollen and his best friend wants to take away the pain

NO MINORS!!!!

not edited

“stay the fuck away from me. please,”

it had been a week since you’d seen your best friend, peter. he’d been away on a mission, along with a few other avengers.

being the baby of the team, you definitely weren’t told everything. or anything really, if it didn’t directly affect you.

“just tell me what is going on!” you screamed at the quarantined boy, voice muffled through the thick glass.

peter was crying at this point, an all consuming burn firing through his veins, predominately the veins down low.

“sweetheart come with me. your not helping by screaming at him,” tony tried peeling you from the hall, but you stood your ground

“why does no one tell me what’s happening? when are you guys going to stop treating me like a baby, i’m 18 for fucks sake!” now peter wasn’t the only one crying.

out of the corner of your cloudy vision you could see his form cowering in the corner, convulsing almost.

“please! he’s my best friend. i deserve to know what’s going on!”

“it’s not about us keeping information from you. it’s just that this is… sensitive.” stark’s brow wrinkled, stress emanating from his form.

this time when he pulled you away, tou didn’t fight.

sensitive?

what could possibly be sensitive enough that you can’t know why your best friend looks like he’s about to die???

once in the lab, you and the iron man sit down.

“look kid, something happened on our mission,”

“yeah no shit,” if looks could kill, stark would’ve murdered you months ago. but probably gotten wanda to resurrect you so his steely gaze could kill you again now.

“i’m serious. parker was doing recon in one of fisk’s bases while we fought his men outside. he found a thing… some sort of explosive gas. when he picked one up for closer inspection it erupted.” tony looked apprehensive, almost waiting for an eruption of his own.

“ok. i’m just gonna say it. sex pollen. it was sex pollen. there’s no way around it. peter exploded a sex pollen bomb.”

the way your jaw unhinged looked inhumane. “WHAT?” you gaped. “like, that weird shit from fanfiction? like the weird shit that makes someone fuck or die? are we in the fucking omega verse right now???”

“i’m going to pretend i know what the omega verse is,” the man clears his throat, “but uh, kind of? he won’t die, but unless he… y’know.. he’ll just kind of be in an unimaginable state of pain for the next,” he checks his watch, “22 hours.”

it took a minute to process the aforementioned information. peter had been affected by sex pollen? you guessed that explained his need to be away from you. but imagining your poor peter in pain for almost another day?

“so why aren’t you doing anything? wait that came out wrong.”

this was probably the most awkard conversation you’d had with tony, even after he caught you “making out” with brad in senior year.

“i meant to say, what’s being done to help him? surely there’s something. i know it’ll pass but fuck, i can’t live with myself knowing pete’s in that room hurting.” you felt a pit of guilt lounging in your gut.

wait it was guilt right? why does your guilt feel like it’s… lower… than it should be.

were you seriously fucking TURNED ON from thinking about your best friend being so horny that it hurts? well, if you worded it like that, yeah.

“we offered him… services. not from us obviously. like, paid services. or anything he wants. but he refused. something about ‘respecting women’ yada yada yada.” stark jests, but you can see the fatherly worry seeping out.

with out another thought, you leave tony in the lab and spring back to parker’s quarantine unit.

“pete you need to accept help! look at yourself” he was worse for wear, even since you saw him 10 minutes ago

his suit was half off his body, which was dripping with sweat. and as much as you tried to ignore it, a large bulge had appeared through the fabric.

he could barely meet your eyes, his own bloodshot, hair matted to his forehead.

“you know i can’t. i can’t control my strength like this. i could hurt someone.” the spider cried out

“not me,” your eyes finally lock. “you can’t hurt me. you know that. we’ve trained together. i’m stronger than you.”

your powers may have made your life a living nightmare, but the strength was definitely a plus. you had sparred countless times, and not once had he hurt you. or beat you for that matter.

“i- i can’t” his voice broke as his body convulsed once more, ungloved hands going to cover his dick.

“if you want to, you can. I’m here pete. I don’t want to see you like this. And i don’t want you to worry about all your moral shit. your not taking advantage of me. your not going to hurt me. i want this. i want to help you, if that’s what you want.”

silence. a few beats go by, before a small “please” meets your ears.

in a blink of an eye you slide your hand over the sensor, unlocking the door to his cell.

your heart broke to a million pieces seeing the broken boy. if you didn’t know better you would have assumed he was succumbing to a deathly injury.

“curtains. there’s curtains.” he gestures to blue hospital curtains that have the potential to cover the glass wall between them and the hall way.

as you pull the curtain, the last thing you see is a worried/disgusted/embarrassed tony. poor guy. knowing his ‘son’ and new recruit were about to get it on.

“FRIDAY, lock down and sound proof the floor once i get in the elevator.” tony yelled, mumbling something about ‘for the good of mankind’.

you drop to your knees next to peters warm frame. the restraint he used to not fuck you right there looked painful.

“If you want this, I want this. I would do anything for you spidey. even if it means fucking my best friend into oblivion,” you say to him, a strained chuckle leaving his chest.

“i won’t be able to stop. i would rather go through this a hundred times then hurt you or screw up our friendship.”

“you won’t. i can handle it. please fuck me pete.”

he turns to a rabid animal with the speed he meshes your lips. the carnal devouring of your face dials up your arousal, and he can smell it.

“wow. you’re fucking sick. getting turned on by your best friend in pain,” he mumbled into your neck, trailing teeth and tongue down your décolletage.

you couldn’t even form a response, to focused on the way his bear chest felt under your fingers, and the way his boner grinded into your crotch.

practised hands pop open the buttons of your shirt, and i clasp the bra you donned. thank god you wore a nice one today.

“mmm pretty bra. planning on fucking brad later?” the boy teased.

“only you. always you.” you grinded harder onto his cock, frustrated at the layers separating you.

“fuck i’ve always dreamt of fucking you. fucking you so good. so so good” a piercing cry leaves your lips as he bites your nipple, kissing it better after.

his tongue was magic, working its way all over your chest. he groped and grasped your breast, alternating one in his mouth, one in his mouth.

even with all his talk, you could see his facade fading.

“peter just fuck me. i know you need it.”

“but what about yo-“

“pete i’m soaked. i’m fine. i just want to make you feel better.” with this, he lets you take charge. he (attempts) to rip his suit off while you pull down your sweats, and eventually a lacy pair of panties.

a guttural groan leaves his lips when he sees the glistening mound before him, he goes to put his mouth forward, but you stop him, kneeling over his lap despite his whine.

“i told you. this is about you. making you feel better.” you laughed at his pathetic attempt at removing the sweat soaked suit.

you pull it down just enough to reveal his angry member. it was thicker than you were used to, longer as well, and a small wave of fear rolled through your stomach.

his dick was red, twitching and leaking. you could practically feel his pain just by looking at it.

he hissed when you slid him up your slit, soaking it with your juices.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered as he slammed your hips down onto him. the scream you let out would definitely surpass stark’s soundproofing.

tears stream down his face at the relief of your silk pussy embarrassing his dick. but he didn’t have long to revel in the comfort. he continued to slam into you with a brutal pace. the erotic wet sounds were enough to put porn to shame.

both of your faces contorted with the pleasure.

“fuck spider you’re fucking me so good. i wanna make you come. want your cum to fill my pussy so good.” his pace was so bruising that his groin pounded into your clit with every thrust.

you couldn’t warn him of the imminent coil about to burst as you gushed around his erection. no noise came out of your mouth except for the unholy moans and expletives.

something you never expected about pete, was his vocalness in bed. god, you would be imagining his noises for weeks to come, hand between your legs.

he was louder than you, which you didn’t think possible, though none of it was legible. his broken words were drowned out by his heavenly moans. with every thrust there came a new ‘ugh’, ‘ngugh’, and ‘fuhhh’.

and god did it get you going.

just listening to his groans had you verging on another orgasm. and he wasn’t too far behind.

peter kept repeating the words “soon” and “close”.

“god pete your so hot. so good to me. fucking me so good. please come baby. i want your cum to fill me up so good. need it baby. need your cum.” you slammed your hips down to meet his every movement, chasing the fast approaching high.

“i’m coming. coming. gonna come,” and with the most dirty, unholy, erotic noise ever made before, peter came.

you could feel the warm seed filling your cunt as you reached your peak, fucking his cum deeper into your cavity.

peter collapsed almost immediately, chest heaving as he sprawled onto the cold foor. you followed in suit, falling flat onto his chest, dick still sheathed inside.

it was deadly silent for at least 5 minutes, and you were sure he had fallen asleep until you head him say “i didn’t hurt you did i?” he lifted your body up, allowing his softened member to leave your body.

“i told you i could handle it, and i did.” you looked up to meet his tired eyes “you didn’t hurt me pete. and even if you had it would have been worth it. how are you feeling now?”

you brushed some hair out of his face, his soft breath brushing against yours. “god i feel so much better. i’m forever indebted to you. that hurt like a bitch.” he chuckled and closed his eyes. “seriously though, thank you. i don’t know what i did to deserve a friend like you.” he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, both of you choosing to ignore the bear skin and leaking fluids pouring you of your pussy.

he whined when you got up, and for a second you thought he would pull you back down. you entered the joined bathroom to get towels.

with gentle hands you soaked up the sticky substances residing over parker’s stomach “i think you’re gonna need this dry cleaned.” you mention, staring at the very stained suit.

he jerked when you gently wiped his cock, but relaxed into your touch nonetheless.

“i think we permanently traumatised mr stark,” peter chortled as he pulled your now clean body into the folding cot that lay in the room.

you giggled with him “yeah, i’m pretty sure even with the soundproofing the entire tower could hear you.” you smirked

the boy turned beet red, and nestled his face into yours, “hey! it wasn’t just me!”

the two of you spent the rest of the night on the small bed, neither with the strength to leave the room.

peter fell asleep first, but you stayed up a little to ponder the future of your friendship after today. however confused you may be, one thing was definitely sure.

there was no way you weren’t fucking peter parker again

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #fanfiction #smut #marvel #marvel smut #the avengers #avengers smut #andrew garfield smut #tom holland smut #tom holland

9K notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 2 months

Text

Officially announcing my new series: Careful.

A limited multi-chapter series with Spencer Reid and Fem Reader, featuring angst, smut, and the trope of exes to lovers where Spencer finds out that he is a father four years after you have given birth to his child.

'When you and Spencer broke up, he tried to forget about you. He pushed all of those feelings for you down - until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being hunted by a man who kills single mothers.'

The series will be approximately 40k long in total (spread across six chapters) and will be posted every Friday, starting on March 8th, 2024, and continuing until ending on April 12th, 2024.

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS NOW POSTED!!!

(I am making a posting schedule, and I am gonna try really, really hard to stick to it this time guys.)

The series is already finished in my drafts - it just needs to be edited before posting. However, comments and encouragement are highly appreciated and welcomed throughout this process. The fic will not have a taglist (taglists are not something I do) - if you enjoy the concept or the preview below and you want to know when future chapters are coming out, then you will simply have to follow me here and turn on notifications for this blog, or you can find me on AO3 and subscribe to me there to get emails when this series and it's future chapters are posted.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you want to get a better sense of what the fic is about, click through and read it, and hopefully, you will enjoy.

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: typical Criminal Minds episode warnings; mentions of murder/killing; the reader character is being targeted by a killer and doesn't know it yet; the reader has a young child (a four year old son); the reader is a cis woman who uses she/her pronouns and a has a vagina; emotional angst between Spencer and the reader; the reader and Spencer had a romantic relationship around season 1/season 2 and this is meant to take place around season 6(ish) but you can picture any later version of Spencer you want; the reason that the reader and Spencer broke up is purposefully vague here but it will be fully revealed in the full story; the reader purposefully kept the pregnancy/Spencer's child away from him; Spencer didn't know he had a child out there in the world; there is some smut in this - unprotected penetration (a flashback to how the baby got here); possibly something that could be labelled as a breeding kink; making love/intense passionate sex; I believe that's in for this short part.

...

The team found themselves buried in paper, looking through the preschool applications for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did.

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers.

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the home until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.”

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.”

“Plus, most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.”

The conversation was easily drowned out for Spencer when he saw it.

It should have been just another page among the sea in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut that brought back a flood of memories he thought that he had locked away forever.

It was you.

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?

Spencer rushed to tear this paper out from the others in the stack in order to read it more carefully.

You had a son.

…

When you answered the knock on your door, you were entirely lost for words, your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him.

The last thing you were expecting was to find Spencer Reid on your doorstep.

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion.

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief.

Shock.

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here?

“Y/N,”

He said your name in that honey-sweet way, and it brought you rocketing back to that awful night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over.

This brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions.

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. Regret.

Like your brain was a spin-wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage.

And that was when you finally spoke.

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom - immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and dropped out to fear. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say.

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch, and you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You screeched, your emotions carrying your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was emotion that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time.

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You added on with a howl. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?”

You gave him another hard shove - perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, you weren’t even sure.

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat.

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out.

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless.

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception.

…

You hadn’t taken the news that you were potentially being hunted by a serial killer very well.

Although, strangely enough, that wasn’t even close to being the hot topic when JJ and Spencer got back in the car, watching you pull out of your driveway to attend to something you said was entirely urgent.

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips.

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply.

…

Eventually - you did sit down and talk things out with Spencer, calmly.

He had a lot of questions, and you tried your best to answer them.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind.

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.”

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?”

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.”

“So - so do you know when-?” Spencer began, and you cut him off.

You already knew what he was going to say.

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’

“No.” You rushed to say.

But it was a lie. You knew.

You felt like you couldn’t tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived.

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember.

And you knew exactly when.

The night was so vivid in your mind.

…

He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day; even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart.

When he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him, he moaned even harder against your mouth. He pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip then as he asked a very important question.

“Do you have a condom?”

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him.

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply, combing your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward.

When he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat - he didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you.

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.”

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.)

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this.

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up, and gently guided the length of his cock into you.

This was always his favorite part.

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way.

It was perfect. It was so easy; it all came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other.

It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible.

With you, so tight and beautiful around him - he didn’t last. He couldn’t.

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning.

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.”

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’.

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time.

…

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer - one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why.

Spencer could instantly see the lie in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night.

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about, and he was going to call you out on it, make you admit in your own words how perfect that night was, even if the two of you were ruined now, a shadow of what you once were.

But he was disrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

858 notes · View notes

hyhkai · 2 months

Text

k.taehyun — dangerous woman!

[ 📚 ] after accidentally eavesdropping taehyun talking with his friends, you've got a question unanswered, a question which is straight up hilarious because it shouldn't be asked in the first place.

content : plot sprinkles, dom!reader sub!tyun, taehyun goes around calling the reader his wife/girlfriend, 'taehyun likes smart girls' agenda, public (in the empty auditorium), blowjob, degradation (m. rec.), making tyun swallow his own cum hah

a/n ; NEEDS TO BE EDITED! idk why I named it dangerous woman for angie and smiles txt birthday event + technically written off of my this thought but it doesn't appear in the limelight as brightly. though i still abide by it and always will. i have no clue how auditoriums look in your guys' vision but 🙏

"what're you even trying to do? makeout with me?" he asked as you pulled him aside from the piled hallway and led him to the top floor.

"trust me," you looked back at him, agony filled eyes. "kissing you is the last mistake I want to make, and I make a lot of mistakes."

he chuckled, god, he chuckled. he has some guts. "if you've started to make mistakes, then I'm a failure, noona."

he's always been like this. you wondered if he had some borderline obsession with you. which, now that you've found out the shit he's been going around blabbering — he definitely is obsessed with you.

almost throwing the two of you into the auditorium when you spotted a council member; you shut the door behind yourself as you stared at him, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. "I'm actually starting to think you want to kiss me. it could've been in the cafeteria, no? why hide like we're middle schoolers?"

you shook your head no. "i already told you, I'd never kiss a dumb dog like you."

"then what are we here for?"

"why are you telling your friends I'm your girlfriend?"

silence. for about a minute. or two.

"i didn't." he said, turning back and walking to one of the chairs, sitting on the one at the corner. he's seriously planning to pretend, that he didn't go around saying you both fuck everyday.

"I don't like liars." you mumbled, walking behind him and letting yourself fall onto the chair right beside him, knees buckling. "what kind of a lie is this? we both are stuck in a loop of arguments and flirting. what makes you want to go around saying I'm your girlfriend?"

"I felt like it." he said dryly, eyes cast down at his fingers as they fidgeted.

"felt like it? you—" you closed your eyes in annoyance, nostrils flaring as your neck turned to look at him. "you felt like telling everyone that I'm your girlfriend? me of all people?" you hissed, he's such a bitch. fucking asshole.

it takes the average human being to start dating after 1-3 months of knowing each other, but it took taehyun one month to walk you down the aisle in his puerile dreams.

"well, why not you?" he asked, looking down at your fingers that were sprinkled with ink. you'd never dated any of the guys around here — because they're such bitches. what about the one in front of you? very evident.

"because I'm never going to really date you!" you almost yelled, lowering your noise when you heard your voice hit the walls of the empty auditorium.

"okay whatever, what're you gonna do about it?" he huffed out, his arms escaping the straps of his backpack.

motherfucker.

you looked away, this boy was making you so demented. you wished you were corrosive and could just touch him and destroy his entire existence in the moment.

and that's when it hit you. your touch... could destroy him. hell, it could probably make him dumb, to say the very least. you looked back to see taehyun, sitting there, staring at you with big big eyes, looking like he's going to swallow you whole.

"what?" you tore the silence apart, taehyun fluttering his eyelashes as he eyed you. the boy is still checking you out. "have some goddamn decency."

"I can't." he said, leaning in, leaning in close so close you wanted to flick his forehead and slap him across the face. he's always been like this for you since the day you put him in his place. he's been like a damn dog, like he wanted to be walked around by you since that day.

"then learn how to!"

"teach me, noona."

and so you did. so you did. and he's going to learn. he's going to learn to never annoy you again.

"noona—"

his eyes widened when your hand went straight for his crotch. fuck. you placed your hand on his cock, in the corner of the auditorium, after school hours.

"shut up. this is what you wanted, didn't you? you're filthy." and he, an exuberant kitten had turned into a lethargic dog. a dumb dog. "you're welcome for this. you're welcome."

"you— you-. what are you even thinking?" he asked, eyes wide as he leaned back, growing motionless. well, one thing was definitely in motion.

"shut the fuck up." you rubbed the tent in his pants as it eventually grew — still no consent of his, but his expression and activities history doesn't seem to be convincing you that he'll say no. you grabbed his face, making him look at you after his eyes had set down onto your hand on his dick. "tell me, taehyun. do you think from your dick or something?"

"y-you can't ask a question like— that.. h-hah." he groaned, a pretend exasperated tone when he was clearly enjoying this. he looked... desperate. it was scaring and making you want to fuck him at the same time. "please, noona."

"please what? use your words, bitch." you said, finger twirling the zipper of jeans, or more like a synonym for a cock cage.

"what're you gonna do?" he asked, eyes shooting around the hall as his knees buckled up, trying to squirm your hand away. this felt so emasculating to him — that you just basically palmed his dick from above the denim.

you were everything he wasn't — smart, perfect and untainted. but you were everything he wanted.

"maybe suck your dick," you said and the statement was definitely sent as an electric signal to his dick and his brain. "give you a reason to go around saying absolute bullshit, hm?" and he closed his eyes shut. his head fell back on the back rest as you unzipped his jeans, letting out a sadistic chuckle. "aw, is the delusion wearing off?" placing a hand under his chin and tilting his head to your side. oh lord, he was blushing. his ears were heating up and his cheeks went pink. "n-not bullshit.. not—"

"shut up." you attempted at a slap but only smacked his jaw, making his head turn away. lightly squeezed to his dick through the Calvin Klein and he whimpered. rubbing the tip with your nails.

if someone asked you if your panties were dry you'd have to deny it. his condition only got more tortured and jittery, you were chuckling like watching a stand-up comedy. you got up from the seat, kneeling in front of him. "h-hah, noona. shit— pl-please."

a malevolent expression, you took his dick out, cockhead lathered in precum — manwhore !

"you like this?" you asked, placing your hand in front of his mouth. "spit, whore." and he did, so fast like he was already preparing to, preparing to be sucked and jerked off.

"mmm, noona, i— h-hah." taehyun scrunched his knees together when your hand twisted at the tip, going down on his dick and his eyes shot open. "i l-love- this."

"of course you do, slut." you mumbled, licking the underpart of his tip, looking up at him as his hands reached to the back of your head to push you down on it unprovoked. he has the audacity to try to fuck your mouth. but no, you slapped his hand away. "behind your back."

he arched his back in sole pleasure, hands behind him now, he let out short, rapid pants. you opened your mouth wide, making him assume you'll finally take his dick, only to start pumping his dick rapidly.

"shit— shit, shit. noona no—"

"take it." you cut him off, using both hands, twisting. your lips set on the edge of his tip, rubbing against it. his brain was vacuous; and it got worse when you held the base of his dick and swallowed him whole.

"oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck." he whispered as you glide your hand up his hoodie, staying at his abs making him suck his stomach in. shook your head, the friction too much for him to bear. "noona, noona please."

pulling away, strings of saliva connecting you to his dick as his head flung back, closing his eyes shut when your nails slid up and down.

"keep it down, my god. the president might just hear you, would you want to be seen getting your cock sucked by me?"

his nails of each hand were digging into each other, his jaw clenching. "it— it'll make for a good s-sight."

"'m so close, pleasepleaseplease." he groaned as you completely stopped even the slightest of fuckery he was receiving from his imaginative slut. "no!"

you giggled at the sight — brain-dead taehyun, with his hands behind his back that were desperate to come forward and get him to cum, his embarrassing, dumbfounded state. a slap to his dick and he thrust into the air.

he could fuck any object that moves right now.

"you just love having your cock shoved down throats, don't you?"

hollowing your cheeks around him, the pleasure too much for him to bear. his hands escaped from behind and almost reached for your head but stopped mid-way, balling into a fist as his brain began jarring.

"noona please please please I'm gonna—" and before he could even warn you, prevent your annoyance and the malice you might have, he spilled into your mouth. and to his surprise, you kept his tip in your mouth, tasting him.

"noona?"

a pretend swallow that made his brain cloudy, did you just swallow his cum?

you got up, his eyes tracking up as you leaned down and pulled him by the collar of his hoodie, clashing your lips onto his and his mind skipped a function or two. you seeped his cum into his mouth, wiping your hands on his chest and he did not give the reaction you expected, the reaction you wanted him to give you — instead, to your surprise, he kissed back, his hand slipping up to catch yours. he didn't expect this at all but the whore didn't give a fuck. you pulled away, displeased that he wasn't mad you just made him eat his own cum.

"you ain't my boyfriend." you hissed, picking your backpack up.

and he was all gone to hell, no place for him in heaven, staring at the high ceiling, panting, beatific.

are they dating? no. do they both have mutual thoughts of fucking? absolutely.

I wrote this in like one hour forgive me

#sub!idol #txt smut #taehyun smut #txt x reader #sub!taehyun #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #sub!txt #taehyun x reader #taehyun hard thoughts

558 notes · View notes

mockerycrow · 4 months

Note

Hi 👋

I was wondering if we could have some fluff? But please only write when you're not busy.

Reader is sick, and how would each member take care of them, nursing them, telling the reader that they gonna take good care of them and then finish it off with some cuddles.

SICK MOMENTS; Ghost Edition (GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

authors note; yet another “moments” series. idk who i’m doing next, but stay tuned :-) — this is an incredibly old WIP. i will be doing “sick moments” series, but i’m in horrible writers block and I want to finish off the 4k requests. life is busy, i’m so sorry!!!

[WARNINGS; implied civilian!reader, sickness, medicine/drug usage, celsius is used, mentions of vomiting, fluff.]

YOU END UP waking up in the middle of the night with the most painful ache in your throat and the worst headache you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re drenched in sweat, your shirt—Simon’s shirt, actually—clinging to your sweat soaked back, and your blanket feels so suffocating. You can’t help the whimper that leaves you as the pulsing in your temples and eyes quickly turn to pounding, and you blindly shove the blanket off of yourself.

You don’t even think to look if Simon’s in the bed with you; not when your stomach is twisting so horribly you think you won’t make it to the bathroom. You push yourself out of bed and stumble out of the room and down the hall, and you don’t vomit, but you’re nauseous as you’re on your knees, your hands slick with sweat as you grip the toilet seat—something you’ll cringe and gag at later.

You aren’t too sure how long you’re there, waiting for the vomit to bubble up your esophagus, but you eventually feel a usually warm hand—cool at the moment due to your fever—rub the back of your neck. “Hey..” Simon’s deep voice fills your ears. sounds tired, as if he was sleeping before this. He probably was. You don’t look at him as your eyes are closed, but you let out a whimper of acknowledgment.

“Tilt your head up, love.. Mhm, that’s it..” You follow his direction, feeling something press against your forehead, a few flicking noises, and then a beep. Whatever he held against your forehead, Simon pulls away. “39 degrees..” Simon mutters, a sigh leaving him. “Hey, you think you’re gonna vomit?” He asks, being straight forward whilst also being conscious of your condition. You take a moment to think and you shake your head. “No,” You croak. “Just nauseous.”

Simon hums, his hand touching the back of your neck again reflexively in an attempt to provide you some comfort; some familiarity whilst your head spins with illness and pounding pain. The twisting and swirling feeling of the nausea in your gut and throat doesn’t settle for a good while, muffled noises of despair leaving your lips. Each time, Simon quietly acknowledges your pain, praising you for enduring it, that he knows that it hurts.

Simon hates when you’re in pain of any kind. He hates it from when you have an annoyingly painful stuffy nose to stubbing your toe on the corner of the couch—when you’re sick like how you are now, to when you frown when the water in the sink is a bit too hot for your liking. If Simon could shield you from any harm and pain, he would in an instant. In a perfect world, you would never be sick and never stub your toes, you would never have colds and the water would magically be the correct temperature.

Alas, this is reality.

“It’s too early to phone the doctor but I will make sure to do first thing when they open, alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep voice rings in your ears, so low that it vibrates in your chest for a moment—and just for a second, your nausea goes away. You wish you could box his voice up and put it in your ears all the time from how soothing you find it. You realize you didn’t respond when Simon calls your name softly and you nod, your eyes remaining shut. “I wanna die.” You moan unseriously, your eyebrows twinging together from the pain between them deep in your skull.

Simon chuckles and squeezes the back of your neck softly. “I’m going to fetch you a glass of water and some medicine to help you until morning. I’ll be right back.” You respond with a simple nod, focused on keeping the nausea away. You’re sure Simon has teleporting capabilities because he’s back by your side in record time. He’s helping you tip your head back, his hand carefully cradling the back of your head and slipping a couple pills into your mouth, carefully giving you sips of water. Not too quick to further your nausea, not too slow to have you think about it too much.

The water is refreshing and cold when it slips down your throat. “There you go,” Simon praises softly, his tone so soft that it contradicts the natural low, grittiness in his voice. “Gave you some anti nausea, some pain meds. I’m not sure if I should give you any fever reducers yet. I’ll be monitorin’ your fever.”

You nod, shuddering slightly as the hand on the back of your head goes to your jaw and neck, guiding your head to lean against his thigh as Simon is standing up straight. “I don’t think I can move yet.” You croak loud enough for him to hear, which earns his callused thumb stroking over your cheek. “That’s alright, love.” Simon murmurs. “We can stay like this as long as y’need. I’ll get ya set up in the living room when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?”

You nod, turning your head to bury half of your face into his sweatpants, feeling eternally grateful for this man. It took you both a long time to get to this point together—a lot of push and pull between you two, a lot of communication and a lot of trust. In the end, it’s been worth it.

🏷️; @mlmxreader @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @queen-leviathan @specter319 @morganight

not tagged? i wasn’t able to or i was confused on your tag list choices </3 interested on joining my tag list? click here and fill it out. :)

wrongly tagged? let me know and update your tag list form!! it won’t bother me :-)

769 notes · View notes

rowanswriting · 7 months

Text

Mr. Munson (part one)

older!eddie x fem!reader smut

word-count: 689

minors please do not read! @eddiemunsons-missingnipple thank you for letting me use your older!eddie edit for the header! DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU’RE 18 OR ABOVE! Thank you for all your support! Reblogs/interaction are very much appreciated I hope you guys enjoyed this!

Being spread out and vulnerable for your older neighbor wasn’t something you would’ve ever expected to happen, yet here you were. The older man above you smirked as you squirmed beneath him, moaning softly as he ran his rough hands over your body.

He had a bit of a reputation from years ago, apparently he was a suspect in a murder, although he didn’t actually do it. The town still hated him, but you were drawn to him. He was mysterious and possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Right now, he looked like he wanted to eat you alive, leaning down to suck a dark spot onto your neck, grinding his hips down against yours, causing the roughness of his jeans to rub right against your bare clit. You shivered from all the sensations running through your body. “Feel good baby?” He whispers into your ear softly, his words contradicting his rough actions.

You nod softly, letting him spread your legs for you, the wetness from you pooling down onto the bed beneath your ass. He sits up, staring down at where you needed him the most, with a dark look in his eyes. “Such a pretty pussy, it’s all for me yeah? Just for me?” You moaned loudly, his pointer finger circling against your clit, rubbing faster and faster as he awaited your response.

“I-it’s all yours Eddie! Fuck, please need you.” He laughed watching you struggle to lift your hips up, searching for something more than just his finger. He pulls you up by your neck, making you sit up on your elbows to look up at him. “That’s a good girl, I’m glad you know who owns you. Now, you’re gonna behave and watch me take my cock out, and if you don’t, you’ll get to watch me get off while you get nothing. Understand?”

You swallow, pouting up at him, you wanted to retaliate but you knew he was serious. “Yes sir.” You whispered, watching him sliding his belt off through the loops. You’ve never seen him before but just the bulge that had been hiding away for the past hour was enough to tell you that he’s big. He pulls off his pants and boxers in one swift motion, watching as you look down at him and bite your lip.

He was perfect, long enough that you knew you’d be feeling him all the way in your guts. There was no doubt in your mind that for at least the next week you wouldn’t be able to walk. “Beg me for it.” He growls out, pumping himself in front of your face. Your mouth watering as pre-cum slides down the head of his cock. “P-please Mr. Munson.” You whine, jutting your lip out and batting your eyelashes at him the best you could.

Suddenly Eddie stopped stroking himself, pulling back and looking down at you confused. “Where are you at?” He says, you sit up confused and look around. “W-what are you talking about Eddie?” Suddenly, a hand is waving in front of your face, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in. “Sweetheart? You okay?” Your face falls as you look at Eddie, standing in front of you at your front door fully clothed.

“You don’t look so great, maybe you should lay down.” He says, a knowing smirk breaking out over his face. The wrinkles by his eyes crinkling. You nervously look away from him, realizing that none of it had even happened at all, Eddie had been standing here for the past few minutes watching you daydream about fucking him. You’d never be able to show your face to him again.

He goes to walk down the stairs of your porch before turning back around looking up at you, “Oh and sweetheart, you talk when you zone out.” Your eyes widen even more as you go to shut the door quickly, but not before you hear him mock you in a high pitched voice, “Please, Mr. Munson.” He laughed, walking back to his own house with a hard on, and a smirk plastered on his beautiful face.

#older!eddie smut #older!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut series #older!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut

821 notes · View notes

supernaturalgirl20 · 1 year

Note

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them.

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure.

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you.

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face.

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you.

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back.

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes.

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside.

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip.

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it.

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground.

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons.

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen.

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground.

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front.

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins.

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse.

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse.

It’s there.

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head.

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this.

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand.

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound.

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now.

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention.

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering.

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt.

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain.

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand.

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders.

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin.

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving.

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you.

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths.

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in.

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings.

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin.

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you.

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.”

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?”

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake.

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly.

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing.

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head.

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you.

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him.

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no.

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening.

He was having a nightmare.

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him.

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms.

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying.

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face.

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.”

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out.

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance.

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases.

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check.

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him.

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart.

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him.

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.”

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him.

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.”

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear.

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually.

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate.

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table.

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach.

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him.

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both.

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying.

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her.

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen.

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms.

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.”

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer.

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you.

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers.

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed.

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing.

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers.

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds.

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much.

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.”

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling.

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Ready for me darlin’?”

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you.

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips.

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier.

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets.

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass.

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed.

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close.

“I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face.

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you.

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou au

1K notes · View notes

larkspurglove · 1 month

Text

OH MY GODDD THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION IT’S SO GOOD BUT ALSO NONE OF MY THOUGHTS ARE COHERENT AAAAA

Major spoilers for 2.1 ahead!!!!

So first off to the people that voted for Aventurine and Sunday in this poll how does it feel to be right?

ANYWAY THAT WHOLE ENDING WAS FUCKING INSANEEEE, Aventurine walking INTO the Nihility????? And he might not ever come back???? Acheron showing off the true extent of her emanator powers?????? Gallagher being the twist villain and also somehow in control of Something Unto Death???? What the fuck?!

My brain is a mess right now I’m just rotating all of the story in my brain and a hundred miles a minute. The next stuff is just going to be me word vomiting my reaction to stuff in a vaguely chronological order.

First off I LOVEEE how Aventurine-focused the Trailblaze mission was. I was kind of assuming it would be a 50/50 split between focusing on Acheron and focusing on Aventurine but it seems like they’re saving Acheron’s backstory for 2.2 or 2.3.

The little appearance of Boothill??? And how he immediately threatens violence?????? Just a silly guy I can’t wait for him in 2.2 I wanna see them fight. Also I wonder if Constance is making empty promises because it’s possible.

Back to Aventurine, DAMNNN I knew his backstory would be tragic but it’s even more gut wrenching than I expected. The reference in his achievements too??? ‘What do you want Sibyl?’ ‘I want to die.’ THE PROGRESSION FROM AVENTURINE STICKING WITH THIS UNTIL THE END WHERE EVEN THOUGH HE COULD POSSIBLY DIE FOR REAL YET HE DECIDES FO CONTINUE FORWARD BECAUSE EVEN IF WE’RE BORN TO DIE THERE’S A POINT IN LIVING LIFE AND PREPARING FOR THAT INEVITABILITY???? OH MY GOD.

Sunday’s also a scary dude. Maybe being an emanator does that to people but when he did that Harmony mindfuckery on Aventurine I was almost certain that he was going to die because of that. I was also SO pissed at Ratio for selling Aventurine out only to learn they were actually double crossing SUNDAY was insane. I’m glad he finally got to be angry about Robin’s death towards the end though, most of the downtime between 2.0 and 2.1 has been me wondering ‘man his sister just died why doesn’t he feel more distressed.’

Ngl I’m probably gonna dedicate a whole post to Aventurine in this update because 90% of the time I was playing the quest I was either thirsting over him, internally sobbing for him, thinking he was gonna die, or waiting to get back to his POV.

Gallagher is one hell of an enigma because Sunday implies that he’s made up of different ‘aspects’ of each Family member who’s died over however long the dreamscape deaths have been happening, yet he has a past with Siobhan and apparently knew Mikhail??? Like what the fuck????? How long has this been going on????

(Edit: so the use of ‘enigma’ was NOT a pun, when I played the trailblaze quest someone goofed up and forgot to add the line where Sunday calls Gallagher a follower of The Enigmata. Yeah that’s a pretty big lore drop to forget to add.)

I do wish it was foreshadowed slightly better though because the most we get is him being very vaguely sad about his past and also like two people going ‘who the hell is Gallagher.’

One thing I didn’t expect to happen was for a ‘Sam is Firefly’ reveal. Like I had seen the leaks before (not out of my own will sadly) and kind of expected for it to be a 2.2 reveal. Either way yayyyy Firefly is alive!!!

I’m sad that we didn’t really have an Acheron and Welt team up, or at least that we didn’t see more of it. It was kind of hyped up to be a whole B-plot but turned out to only be a few scenes. I’m not complaining because we get a little teeny bit of Welt characterisation but I’m still sad.

I like how Sparkle kind of just shows up to either be a nuisance or a conveniently timed piece to move the plot forward. It’s very fitting with being a Masked Fool.

There’s a lot more I want to scream about but it’s all Aventurine related and I’m gonna save it for its own dedicated post.

2.1 is so fucking good 2.2 and 2.3 better stick the landing.

216 notes · View notes

penny00dreadful · 5 months

Text

Okay, okay, okay listen.

Remember when we were all obsessed with Steddie Legally Blonde a while back? Yes, I’m still thinking about it, leave me alone. And I adore everything I’ve read. It’s all so fantastic.

But I had a thought because what if we switched it up a little? I’m going mainly off of the musical here, so bear with.

So what if instead of having Steddie as Elle and Emmett, we instead have them as Paulette and UPS Guy/Kyle??? Like??? It fits, right???

But then, but THEN who do we have as Elle/Emmett?

Buckingham.

No, but just think of it!

Or I guess you don’t really need to because I’ve thought of it enough for all of us and it goes like this:

(OMG you guys I blacked out and when I woke up this thing was 3.1k long written over a few hours. I haven't edited this at all so please be gentle about typos/tense changes etc. The fever just took me.)

Chrissy is your quintessential girly girl. She is Elle Woods. She’s blonde, pretty, cheerleader, very feminine and happy where she is in life, President of her Sorority with her besties by her side and her guy who is… well he’s as good as any guy could be, right?

Jason is handsome, rich, well connected, he treats her with affection and he humours her when she has some pretty wild, out there ideas.

But then it happens and they break up because apparently having a girly girl for a wife just wouldn’t look good if he’s gonna live his life the way he wants to. Lawyer, his own practice, running for office.

Apparently her blonde hair and boobs would hold him back which, what the fuck???

What does that have to do with anything?

They love each other, right? That surface stuff isn’t supposed to matter. At all! They’re supposed to be together no matter what because they… they love each other?

Well fuck that noise, no one tells Chrissy Cunningham she’s too fucking blonde to do anything which is a hypocritical ass thing to say because has Jason looked in the fucking mirror recently?

Different fucking rules, apaprently.

Well, no more.

She’s gonna fuck up law school right along side him and she’s gonna wear fucking pink while doing it too!

And like, everything is going fine.

Chrissy’s not stupid, she knows how she’s perceived by people before they get to know her.

Vapid, bimbo, perky, blonde.

Like that’s an insult.

It’s just harder now that she’s away from her girls, gays and theys back home. And everyone here seems to think that the best way to live their lives is to look boring as shit while doing it along with tearing each other down.

She fucking hates it, but she’s determined to see it through.

It helps that she seems to have found the one person on the whole of the fucking east coast who actually listens to what’s coming out of her mouth rather than just paying attention to the hair on her head or staring at her tits.

Robin is so strange.

She’s different in such a refreshing way, it’s like being able to breathe clean air for the first time in years.

And she’s fucking sharp. And sweet. And so, so comforting.

Chrissy would have never managed to survive the depression of those first few weeks without her.

And like, she’s not ignorant to the fact that Robin sometimes does look at her boobs but at the same time it just feels different coming from a woman than it does a man. It doesn’t feel so objectifying.

Instead of putting Chrissy on edge it makes her feel a little smug. A little proud of herself, it makes her feel attractive and desired in a way she hasn’t felt in a very long time.

Is that sexist? To prefer the attentions of a woman over a man when both do it just fine for her?

Chrissy’s not exactly sure, but she knows she enjoys it when it’s coming from Robin.

So maybe it’s a Robin thing.

Chrissy honestly thinks things are looking up for her.

Until Jason introduces Nicole.

His fucking fiancee???

It’s been, like, four months since they broke up.

Nicole hates her guts, she can tell. She thinks she’s some two braincelled idiot who got into Harvard on daddy’s dime and needs to be babied through the simplest of tasks while not understanding how condescending everyone’s been the whole time.

Chrissy fucking understands. She’s been through it all before, but back then she had people by her side. It’s all so fucking childish. The world already hates women enough, Chrissy desperately doesn’t want to be at another womans throat, over a man no less, but Nicole doesn’t seem to feel the same way.

She’s ambitious and cut-throat and dedicated and a little bit terrifying.

Apart from Robin, she’s on her fucking own out here.

And she needs something.

Something of home to bring some light back into her life.

So she gets in her car and just drives around the streets hoping something will catch her eye.

And it does.

Some tiny little hole in the wall salon with a pride flag out the front that she’s immediately drawn to because god damn it she misses her friends. The girls, the gays, the theys.

As soon as she pulls over she feels both simultaneously like she’s come home and she definitely won’t fit in here, but she’s so emotionally raw at this stage it all kinda ends up converging on her and now she’s standing in front of a mostly empty salon and there’s a guy looking at her and she’s just fucking crying.

Through her blurry vision she can see the guy approaching and she really fucking hopes this isn’t gonna turn into a thing because she just does not have any spoons left to deal with some creep right now.

But he seems to sense how he’s coming off because he becomes a little more effeminate from one step to the next.

“You okay, honey?” He asks, big brown eyes wide with concern and a hand covered in rings hovering over her shoulder, not touching. He has a cigarette in the other hand, held away to keep the smoke from reaching her, his arms covered in ink but Chrissy wants nothing more than a cigarette right now.

Or, that’s kind of a lie, but she’d love one in all honesty. She hasn’t smoked in so long.

The guy spots her eyeing it, sticking the cigarette back between his plush lips and needing to use both hands to pull his carton from his pants considering they’re so tight.

“Bad day?” He hands her one and Chrissy ends up breaking down all over again.

She tells him that it hasn’t just been a bad day, but a bad half a year, really. She tells him all about Harvard and Jason and her professors and Robin and by the end of her ranting they’re sitting back in the breakroom of the salon. They guy’s name is Eddie, she learns and despite his mean and scary exterior Chrissy thinks he might be the gentles person she’s met in this whole god forsaken city.

He holds her hands between his and listens to her. Actually hears her talk and pays attention and is concerned and attentive and she loves him for it.

He helps her find her confidence again, at least for the rest of the day. They commiserate about how they both stick out like sore thumbs in their communities and how people need to just kinda get over it.

He encourages her not to let the normies win, do go hang out with Robin, to go kick ass and she’s just wondering how on earth she can ever repay the favour when they hear

“Knock, knock.”

Coming from the front of the salon.

Eddie’s whole face drains of colour before immediately turning red and he bolts up from his chair, stumbling out of the staffroom and moving back behind the receptionists desk.

Chrissy gets to watch in real time as all of Eddie’s incredible confidence and easy lightheartedness disappears into a vat of nerves mostly hidden by cheeky flirtation as he twirls a lock of hair around his finger and bats his eyelashes at the Hot UPS Guy who looks equally as charmed.

When the guy, Steve, has to get back to his route, Eddie practically melts against the desk as soon as he’s out of sight.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs help.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at her but smiles anyway. “I had that handled just fine.”

Over the next few months, she and Eddie get closer, Eddie and Steve stay exactly where they were that first day and she and Robin are quickly approaching best friends level.

But Chrissy is starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe she wants a little more than to be best girly-girl friends with Robin and maybe she wants to stick her tongue down her throat about it.

The two of them are practically attached at the hip, spending all day at classes together, alternating between their respective rooms to study late into the night, ending up in the same bed together and waking up together in the morning.

Chrissy is almost, completely, entirely sure that this is all very not platonic but it’s so difficult to tell.

She’d be constantly sleeping over with her friends back home, hugging, kisses on cheeks, cuddling in bed or when watching movies, just girly things.

But this feels different. Is it different?? Or is this just how Robin is with all her female friends, the same way it’s always been how Chrissy was with her friends back home. How can she tell if it’s going from platonic to romantic??

And all of that needs to go on the backburner anyway because they’re being put on a real life, for realsies you guys case. And if they fuck up this case they could be at fault for someone spending the rest of their fucking life in prison for something they didn’t do??

Unacceptable.

And after Chrissy finds out their client used to be on the same cheer team as her? It was all over. No way was she gonna let her go to prison just because everyone thinks a pretty young woman couldn’t possibly love someone a little older than her.

Not on Chrissy’s watch.

But first she has to deal with Robin’s wardrobe because they professor is insistent that all the women wear skirts and tights and Robin is not having it.

Neither is Chrissy to be fair, so she takes Robin out to the most lavish place she can, decks them both out in the fiercest looking pantsuits they can get their hands on, refusing to back down.

It comes as a surprise to both of them when Nicole stands with them in solidarity as well and now their professor is both outnumbered and losing his arguments with only Jason on his side about this and they fucking win.

It’s only a small win but it still feels fantastic.

Riding her high of winning that small fight, she bursts into the salon and informs Eddie that he is going to either kiss or ask out Steve the next time he sees him and when Eddie reacts like she just said she was going to shave all of his hair off she refuses to hear it.

Because the thing is Eddie is pretty, really pretty and she knows that Steve knows it, but she doesn’t think that Eddie himself is really aware of it. And despite his prettiness, he’s all awkward elbows and knees.

So she gives him some tips and shows him how to highlight certain things about himself, the long legs, the tattooed arms, the hip bones. Even his cute little bum. She teaches him how to subtly pull at his clothes in conversation so some skin is exposed or his tiny little waist is highlighted. She teaches him how to use his eyes to go in for the kill.

He doesn’t seem to think it’ll work but she is almost certain it will.

And it’s confirmed for her when she gets a call later that night from Eddie who sounds fucking over the moon and completely bewildered by the fact that Steve likes him back??? Has done for months?? And they had some incredible dirty nasty sex in the salon after it closed for the night and how they’re going to the movies tomorrow??

Eddie swears he’s gonna send her the biggest fuck off fruit basket he can find.

Everything is looking up for her, especially after she has such a major win in court, figuring out one of the prosecutors witnesses had perjured himself on the stand (without outing him to the whole damn court, thankfully).

Or at least everything was looking up for her until she found herself alone in a room with her professor and she felt the energy in the room shift before it happened.

His hands were on her before she could do anything about it and she cracked him across the face for it before she could even think about what this could do to her legal career going forward.

Because that was the reality of it, wasn’t it?

Either allow herself to get assaulted or destroy her career before it even started.

She didn’t know when her priority had shifted from getting Jason back to actually pursuing this as a future career. But she had found to her own surprise she loved it. She adored it actually.

And now…

Now it would all be gone.

Jason had seen, of course he had and he was less than kind about it because apparently it made more sense that she had fucked her way into Harvard than had actually been smart enough to get there on her own.

She couldn’t stomach anything Nicole could possibly have to say to her but if the way she was glaring at Jason with barely concealed rage after that comment was anything to go by, Chrissy didn’t need to worry too much about that.

She just wanted to go. To get out. She needed to get out. And she would have gotten away scott free if Robin hadn’t been hanging around waiting for her.

Robin’s face broke into a bright smile but that quickly slipped away when she saw the state Chrissy was in. She was all sweet concern and care and affection but Chrissy couldn’t fucking deal with it at that moment, she couldn’t face her.

She couldn’t face Robin who would find out what a fool of herself she’d made believing in Chrissy, when Chrissy had thrown all of their hard work away.

Because no one would ever fucking see her as a person. She was just a piece of ass.

So she ran.

She didn’t even realise where she was running to until she was standing outside the salon doors again.

It was late, they were closed, of course they were, why was she here?

She was standing outside the door crying again like she had been the first time and it was all just so fucking stupid-

“Chrissycakes?”

She was enveloped in Eddie’s arms before she could even blink, being ushered inside and steered back to the staffroom, same as that first time.

There were beer bottles and take out containers over the table and Steve sitting at the table and oh, she’d interrupted something hadn’t she?

What a fucking way to officially meet one of her best friends new boyfriend right?

But they were so sweet.

They sat and listened while she spilled the whole thing, offering at different points to hunt down her professor for her or slash his tires or lose all of his mail or whatever and she was forced to giggle through the tears.

But she shook her head in the end. She was tired. She was sick of having to defend herself constantly.

She needed… she needed to go back to where she belonged.

And she was about to.

She was about to leave the salon, swear to keep in contact with Eddie because god damn it she loved him now and she was ready to run.

But then there was a hammering at the door and Chrissy poked her head out to see Nicole standing there looking like she was on a fucking crusade.

And… was that…?

Robin was standing behind her, looking like she was just trying not to get in Nicole’s way.

Eddie grumbled to himself about changing the damn salons opening hours if this was to continue but he unlocked the door anyway.

Nicole burst in all fire and determination, shoving her finger directly in Chrissy’s face.

“I hated you. But god fucking damn it if you didn’t prove to me that this is the career you belong in. And I refuse to stand by and see an admirable woman of your smarts and calibre get run over by some small dicked professor with a receding hairline. You’re so much more than that. So c’mon. We’re breaking through that fucking glass ceiling if it kills us.”

Holy shit.

Robin pulled her into a tight hug, warm and comforting and a little too long to be platonic, running a hand through her hair.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with Chris, but… you deserve to be in that courtroom.” She muttered into her ear and Chrissy could do nothing but nod into Robin’s neck.

She heard Eddie sigh behind her. “Okay if we’re doing this then… I need to make a few calls.”

A few days later Chrissy made her triumphant return to the courtroom. Everyone was there to support her. Eddie, Steve, her besties from back home that Eddie had called, telling them it was a friend emergency and so of course they all came right away along with Robin and Nicole bracketing her on each side.

And while she could tell the court wasn’t taking her rants on hair care very seriously, when she finally came out with the verbal crackdown, proving the witness was actually the murderer, the gasps from the gallery were enough to feed her for years to come.

When all was said and done at the celebration later that night, she found herself being approached by Jason.

He told her it was a mistake to let her go, to discard her the way he had and she agreed that yes it was. But his mistakes weren’t her problem anymore. And from the look of it they weren’t Nicole’s problem either.

Jason surprisingly took it well enough, mentioning that he never really felt the same passion for law that she so clearly possessed.

She wished him luck with finding what he wanted to do.

But now.

Now she needed to find Robin.

Chrissy couldn’t take it anymore.

So weaving through the people around her, she grabbed at Robin’s hand, dragging her away from Steve who she had become inseparable with and pushing her into the hallway.

Robin didn’t even have a chance to ask what was happening before Chrissy was on her, pressing her into a wall, holding her close with her hands on either side of her face, kissing her with so much longing and elation and joy and happiness that when she pulled away Robin looked completely dazed.

Robin blinked slowly a few times before her face broke into a wide grin.

“Me too.”

#buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #robin x chrissy #buckingham fic #legally blonde au #buckingham legally blonde au #chrissy x robin #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #penny00dreadful #i dont know what happened #it just appeared #wild huh?

210 notes · View notes

dearly-somber · 5 months

Text

Haircut | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), humor, found family, angst, drama, eventual romance, eventual smut, high school!au

-> w/c. 1982

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. This ended so silly so goofy smdhjaheb

-> warnings. None!!

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Aug. 14th, 2022 @ 19:49

-> fin. Thurs., Nov. 20th, 2023 @ 04:43

-> edited. Fri., Dec. 1st, 2023 @ 12:55

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

“You’re kidding right?”

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his hands with a furrow in his brow. “No…”

Y/N laughs, rocking forward to smack his knee familiarly. “You seriously got detention because your hair was too long? That’s ridiculous!”

“I know,” he whines, running a hand through said hair and sighing deeply as he lays back with his legs crossed, splaying his arms over the bed.

Y/N giggles as she stands, sympathetically patting his shoulder. “Is there really no way out of it?”

“Not unless I can book an appointment before school tomorrow.” Y/N cringes. “Yeah,” he sighs.

It’s so dumb. He didn’t get in trouble the entire week! Not one teacher mentioned it, and then during his last period on a Thursday evening, bam! Detention slip. And, obviously, it was from his least favorite teacher, Ms Kang, who he was pretty sure hated his guts for no other reason than she couldn’t fuck him. He’s honestly surprised that she hasn’t been reported for sexual harassment yet, but he swears if she touches his shoulder in class one more time…

Jungkook’s brought back to the present at the sound of drawers opening and closing, his attention piqued. The thing that spurs him into motion is the realization that Y/N is rummaging through his drawers and she might accidentally happen upon his underwear.

“What’re you looking for?” he asks, pushing up off the bed to sit with his feet hanging off the side.

“A comb.” She closes his sock drawer with a sigh. “Do you have one?”

His eyes flit to the hand she has wrapped around the dreaded underwear drawer handle. “In my bathroom. Why?”

She mutters to herself, “‘Course it’s in the bathroom, why didn’t I think of that?” Then, louder, “Wanna comb your hair first.”

“‘First’?” Jungkook repeats quizzically.

“Mm,” she hums, turning to him with a smile. “Gonna cut it for you.”

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Sure!” She pulls him into the bathroom by his wrist, crouching to dig through his sink cupboard and turning back to him with a smile on her face and a comb in her hand.

“Uh…” Jungkook isn’t sure what to think. Does he like it when she plays with his hair? Yes. Does he trust her with his life? More than yes.

But his hair?

“I think I’d rather just go to detention…”

She punches his arm with a shake of her head. “My dad’s a barber, dickhead. I’m gonna get the water ready so long—can you change into swim shorts?”

“I…” Jungkook wants to say no and drag her back to bed so they could watch their silly little dramas and forget about how their plans to go to the movies tomorrow would be canceled because of some stupid detention slip, but Y/N’s eyes are sparkling and her voice is light, so he groans instead.

She smiles knowingly, turning her back to him as she starts fiddling with the handles in the bath, the water running as he goes to change, closing the bathroom door behind him.

He pulls his pants down and briefly considers changing out of his boxers before ultimately deciding to keep it on under the plain black swimming trunk he pulls out of his bottommost drawer.

He’s a little nervous for whatever Y/N has planned, but more than that, he’s excited. Whatever this is, he can feel deep in his stomach it’s going to be domestic and likely set his wolf off in the most pleasant way.

As he enters the bathroom, his eyes fall on Y/N. She’s standing inside the bath with her pants rolled up just under her knees, her shirt sleeves rolled up above her elbow, a comb and a bottle of shampoo in her hands.

“Well?” She beckons him closer. “What’re you waiting for?” Jungkook lets out a baffled laugh. She leads him inside the bathtub before gently pressing down on his shoulders so he’s facing the wall with his back to her, his legs crossed in front of him.

He feels Y/N slot her feet next to him, feels how her legs cocoon his arms. The water is pleasantly warm around his lap as she begins brushing through his unruly strands of hair.

She giggles softly. “I can’t believe you didn’t cut your hair,” she says, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I didn’t think it was long enough to get me in trouble,” he grumbles with his eyes closed. “We grow our hair out all the time, so no one thought it would be an issue.”

Truthfully, Jungkook didn’t want to cut it because he knew Y/N liked it long, and wanted an excuse to keep it that way.

She tsks playfully, dragging the comb from the very top of his head (literally an inch short of his forehead) all the way down to the shorter strands of hair at his nape. “Guess it gives me an excuse to play with your hair, huh?”

“Guess so,” he mumbles, his chest warm and bubbly. “I didn’t know your dad was a barber,” he says.

“I guess it’s never really come up in conversation,” she replies, setting the comb aside and reaching for the detachable shower-head. She tests the temperature on her palm, water dripping onto the side of Jungkook’s arm before she interrupts with a little gasp, “Shit! I forgot about your shirt.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook waves her off. “I’ll change into a different one when you’re done.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook imagines Y/N skeptically biting her lip. “Alright. Lemme know if the water’s too hot, yeah?”

Jungkook grunts as a reply, a soft noise leaving his lips without him meaning to at the feel of the water on his scalp.

She runs her fingers over his head, cupping her hands over his eyes to stop the water from going into his face.

“Did…did your dad teach you how to do all this stuff?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing as his wolf croons at the way Y/N lathers shampoo into his hair.

“Yeah, kinda,” she replies focused-sounding. “He took me to work sometimes, so I watched him a lot. Picked up on most of it that way, if I wasn’t asking questions.”

“That sounds really nice,” he mumbles distractedly, smiling softly at the image of baby-Y/N being taught how to wash one of those Barbie head’s hair properly.

“It was.” She makes sure to get the shampoo in the hair behind his ears as well. Jungkook can’t help but sigh contentedly, unable to find it in himself to care when Y/N giggles teasingly.

“You good?” she asks, a smile in her voice.

“Feels really nice,” Jungkook replies softly, his heart probably beating slow enough to make a cardiologist worry for his health.

After Y/N lathers the shampoo on, she rinses his hair out, applies conditioner, rinses that out, and then gently taps his shoulder. “C’mon Wolfy, let’s go downstairs.”

“Wolfy?”

“What?”

Jungkook smiles wide at her offended pout, throwing the towel she hands him over his shoulders. “Nothing, nothing.”

“Whatever,” she humphs. “Go down to the kitchen when you’re done changing so we can cut your hair.”

Jungkook salutes. “On it!”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

“Okay, you ready?” Y/N asks, excitedly snipping the scissors next to his ear.

Even though Jungkook feels his stomach drop, he puts on a brave face. “Let’s go!”

Y/N grins, running the comb through his hair one last time before pulling the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck between her forefinger and middle finger, waiting a second before quickly snipping off the hair.

“Your hair’s gotten so long…”

“Should you be talking right now? Shouldn’t you focus on not cutting off too much?”

“Yah!” Y/N laughs in disbelief as she smacks his shoulder with the fist she has closed around the comb, tsking disappointedly as she continues snipping at his hair. She moves strategically around the back of his head, eventually maneuvering around to the front to cut his bangs.

“Seriously though, your hair’s grown a lot. I didn’t think you’d ever let it get this long.” She brushes through his hair again.

“Why?” he asks with closed eyes, both to keep the conversation going and also out of genuine curiosity.

She shrugs. “I dunno. You just never seemed like a long-hair kinda guy? It looks good on you, though. The long hair, I mean.”

“What else would you mea—stop hitting me!” Jungkook pouts as he brings a hand up to rub at his bicep, scowling under his bangs.

“Just…shut up. Stop nitpicking everything I say.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, eh?” He reaches out to tug at her shirt, smiling satisfied when she huffs defeatedly and pats his hand before she starts cutting bangs.

“All hairstyles look good on you, though. It’s kind of unfair, actually.”

Jungkook scoffs, letting his eyes drift closed as Y/N grabs the blow-dryer (which he assumes she brought down from one of the bathrooms) and plugs it into a socket on the wall. She starts it up, then immediately stops.

He turns his head to the side to look at her. “What?”

“I’ve never thought to ask, but does the sound not hurt your ears?”

Jungkook frowns for a second, then lights up in understanding the next. “Oh! No, not really. It’s loud, sure, but you’d have to have really sensitive ears for it to hurt.”

“Ah, okay.” Y/N nods as she puts one hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

As the blow dryer turns on and drowns out any attempt at conversation, Jungkook can’t help but smile to himself.

She doesn’t want to hurt him. That’s a relief. Hopefully, she won’t have to. Soon, right? At the very least, Jungkook knows any hurt isn’t intentional…

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

“Alright! We’re done!”

You set the dryer to the side as you pull the plug out of the socket, walking around to look at the finished product of your hard work, only to find him asleep.

You smile softly at the way Jungkook’s chin rests against his chest, lips slightly parted in sleep. His hair is not only shorter now (even though you kept some of the length, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to cut it all off), but it’s clean and fluffy and it makes you want to run your fingers through it.

Which you do—you reach out and card your fingers through his bangs and over his scalp, just kind of fondly staring at him while he sleeps, before realizing that that might be a bit weird.

“Jungkook?” Your voice is softer than you meant it to be, but you don’t mind. He’s so innocent when he’s asleep, it’s kind of awe-inducing. “Kookie?”

“Mngf?” Jungkook’s eyes open blearily, confusedly sitting straighter in his chair as he takes in his surroundings.

“I’m done, Koo. Go lay down on the couch if you’re feeling tired, you’ll hurt your neck.”

He grumbles something under his voice as he gets up from the chair, towering over you (damn his long legs).

Your eyes widen in surprise when Jungkook sleepily stumbles toward you, nuzzling into your neck as his arms wrap weakly around your middle. “Thanks, Bunny.”

You’re beyond happy that Jungkook can’t read minds, because in that moment you find yourself—for the split of a second—thinking about Jungkook in a not-so-best-friend way. “Sure, Kook.”

He drags himself to the couch, unceremoniously climbing over the back and flopping onto his stomach with a loud oof.

You press the back of your hands to your cheeks in order to cool them down, shaking yourself free of the stupid butterflies in your stomach as you grab a broom and sweep your best friend’s auburn hair out to the backyard.

Stupid haircut…

291 notes · View notes

ilikepjo24 · 3 months

Text

On Octavian ruining Percy's panda pillow pet...

Now, I thought this wasn't even a serious thing that needs to be addressed but I just finished arguing with someone over this, so apparently it does need its own meta.

So, the take we're debunking today is "Octavian is mean/evil for ruining Percy's pillow pet".

The thing about this pillow pet is that Percy was homeless for six months, he had to steal to survive and fight off monsters every single day, a task that was getting harder and harder every day, all while he remembered nothing. He only had his name. He didn't have friends, a home, a family, a safe place, a purpose, something that can get people by so that they don't just give up when struggling every day for no known reason with no known end goal gets too much.

During those months, his panda pillow was the one single form of comfort and familiarity he was granted. A small mercy if you will, to help get him through this. Although many people downgrade, poke fun off, and affectionately ridicule his relationship with the panda pillow pet, it was definitely something meaningful. Like the first participation trophy you got for participating in a competition for fun, only to realize you really like that activity and get hooked on it. Sure, the trophy does not indicate any real talent or success in itself, but to you it's the starting line for something you genuinely love. And to Percy his pillow pet has value because of it's emotional worth.

Which is why it had to be sacrificed.

I'll explain why soon enough, but for now, hold that thought I put in your head just now while I add a second idea there too.

This isn't talked about in the books, but it's something Uncle Rick made sure to address in the show. As Chris Rodriguez worded it: The gods love the smell of beging.

In Camp Half-Blood, when meal time is over, demigods throw the remaining of their food into the fire as a sacrifice and pray to the gods. In the show it was specified that it's better to sacrifice a portion of your favourite food, because if the gods see that you're willing to sacrifice your own comfort (even if it's just in the form of your favourite food) just to please them, they are more likely to answer your prayer. Once again, as Chris said, they love the smell of begging. And the more you beg, the more you're willing to sacrifice, the further you're willing to go, the better.

So Greek gods like it when you pray by sacrificing your food, and to an extent, your comfort. And the Roman gods like it when you sacrifice a life.

Which is why auguries became a thing. Of course you're not gonna see the future in the guts of an animal just because. The gods will grant you spoilers for the next season if you kill the animal because it will make them feel flattered to see that you're so desperate for their help that you'd rip out the soul of a living being in their honor just to get their attention.

However, Rick is writing books for tweens and teens. He can't just have animals being slaughtered left and right, especially for the purpose of feeding the gods' narcissism. So what can he do to make the situation a bit more pg 13? Remove the slaughtering of animals. And how will auguries be performed then? By sacrificing something else that has value. Emotional value.

It's quite logical to assume that the stuffed toys Octavian uses in his auguries are really expensive or collector's edition or handmade or are someone's childhood companion that they donated. The gods wouldn't just let you have information about the feature when all you gave to them was a sacrifice worth 1$ that you could even fish out of the trash.

Now I want you to hold on to that too and knit it together with the other thought I told you to hold on to, got it? And if you do that part of the process properly you should get to the conclusion that the best sacrifice available at the moment to get the gods to tell you how they feel about Percy joined the legion was Percy's panda pillow pet that he is so deeply emotionally connected to.

Octavian did not ruin something Percy loved for kicks. He didn't even know him yet, there's no way he had any type of malicious feelings towards Percy yet. He was just doing his job. The job Reyna tasked him to and the job Hazel told him to do during their conversation. And that was to read Percy's augury (which wasn't an augury bc Octavian is a haruspex but that's irrelevant right now). He wasn't actively trying to soil Percy's mood and ruin his day just to be the evil villain. He was just doing his job.

Thus proven.

#octavian pjo #pjo octavian #octavian hoo #hoo octavian #Octavian #octavian #octavian simmons #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo #pjo hoo toa

125 notes · View notes

thedvilsinthedetails · 3 months

Text

Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him.

Oh baby darling how I long

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung.

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song.

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments.

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.”

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh.

“Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over.

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes.

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

117 notes · View notes

cookie-crumblr · 7 months

Text

Hype Train!

F! Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 1~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: lots of boring tech talk(sorry i nerd out sometimes and i wanted to show his thought process for his intro) yandere, f!reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, stalking, internet stalking, lewd comments not from ML, edit: sorry! i forgot to tag NONCON EXHIBITION!!! omg that’s probably huge. i am so sorry!!!

He is always looking for smaller streamers to raid, to bring in his moderately sized and very active audience to someone who may often only get about 5-10 people.

Today, he picked you. Your cute little VTuber model already having captivated him. He looks up your sinsta first, and sees your selfies. You somehow look just like your tuber!

You’re so cute.

He clicks “raid now”, and says to shower you in love!

As soon as the alert goes off for the raid, so does a long line of follower alerts. “Wh-what?! OMG! Thank you so much!!! Welcome to my stream! how was yours? if you have to raid and run, go eat and sleep pleasantly!”

Oh goodness, you sound cute. You even cared about him without knowing him, sure he knows it’s just polite for streamers to say those things. But coming to him in your adorably sugary voice, he instantly believes you really care.

While he’s watching the swaying of your adorable little avatar on screen, he’s imagining the movements in your actual face behind the camera.

“Oh my! im so sorry, uh-” Your mic picks up your ferocious typing, and your sudden shock snap him back to the moment,“I forgot to shout you out, Jasper!”

His name rolling off your tongue sounds so perfect, as if he’s been waiting to hear it that way his entire life.

He springs into action, realizing you have no mods, lithe fingers dancing across keys swiftly and with new purpose, “No worries! Tysm for the SO!! also, i can mod for you, if you want!😊”

You beam behind your screen, “Oh! i could never ask that of you! maybe if you’re here again next time!”

Of course he will be. You don’t know that though.

“O-m-gee! Thank you all soooo much for the hype train!!! level 5?! i’ve never even had a level three!! this is crazy!”

God you’re cute when you’re so excited.

He has your selfies from sinsta pulled up in front of him as he listens deeply to you speak.

You’re so thankful, and so, so sweet…

You must be so innocent.

You’re at the very least naive, and he’d hate to just leave you to be eaten up by this cruel, cruel world…

He must get to you first.

Your stream ends a few hours later, his followers stayed the whole time to shower you in love.

He knows he’s got a lot of simps… They’d do anything he tells them to.

You though, you’ve had the most fun streaming that you’ve ever had so far! And that payout this month is really gonna help, they gave so much!

On your dipcord you see a new friend request, it’s him! You add him without a second thought, always looking for more streamer friends.

within seconds you receive a dm from him, “Want to VC?”

“Sure!” you respond, full of excitement. Something in your gut roils, you feel so nervous but your excitement overrules your body’s initial warning.

When you shouted him out you saw his own Vtuber, and heard his melodic voice, your face warms at the thought.

He calls and you answer after long seconds that feel like minutes of deep breathing, and hyping yourself up.

“How are you feeling, Y/Username, you had a pretty productive stream,” Jasper’s voice is even softer than in his clip, your stomach turns to a fluttering tangle of knots.

“Oh! haha,” you giggle, “only thanks to you!”

His heart melts in response.

“You were why the viewers stayed, don’t sell yourself short,” as he speaks he’s sifting through your public scocials.

He has noticed one older woman with her real name as her username that follows you on every single account. He continues down this path through the web. She has pictures with you, confirming that she’s your mother in the descriptions. she has her state tagged on flapbook.

That narrows it down as long as you didn’t move too far.

On your own socials you often have pictures of flowering trees near red bricks. And in one Selfie a street sign is reflected in your dark shades…

He floogle maps it, then goes into street veiw, there’s a couple red brick houses, but there’s also a red brick apartment complex right around the corner with magnolia trees…

He smiles as his fingers find his lips idly zoning out slightly.

You’re only a few hours flight away from him there…

“Jasper?” Your timid voice pulls him back.

“Yes, pretty,” He says in a low groan, “Can I follow your private?”

You blush fiercely, “Ye-Yeah! o-of course,” you’re so glad he can’t see you right now, your face completely buried in your hands.

You open your phone and go to sinstagram, he sent you a follow request and already followed your public streaming account.

You smile to yourself bashfully, tucking stray strands behind your warming ears.

He sees there are a few live cameras connected in the apartment buildings.

“Hey, this is a random question, but do you have a cat cam? i do, and i saw you have a cat on your public…” He asks, hoping to sound inconspicuous.

“Y-yeah! i do, wanna exchange kitten pics?” you laugh feeling more comfortable, he’s got a cat too! You can’t help but love cat dads…

“Always! and do you have protection on it?” he can already see that only a couple of the cameras don’t have any sort of blocker on them in these buildings. He’s almost disappointed.

There… “How cute…” He finds the one with live footage of your cat just as pictured sleeping on it’s giant plant shaped cat tree across the room.

“You mean like the warranty? Y-yeah! I paid for the 2 year…” You try to keep calm…

He sees a few creeps are already connected to your cam.

He easily follows their trail, typing away on his loud mechanical keyboard. The sound of it soothes you, you end up closing your eyes for a second.

“Oh no- You paid?” he sighs in frustration, not at you though. At whatever store took advantage of you. “This brand comes with a free two year when you buy it…” Shit. he misspoke. He isn’t supposed to know the brand.

You don’t consciously notice.

“For real?! I had no idea!!” You’re almost as frustrated. That was like thirty bucks you didn’t even have to spend.

He can’t help the small enamored smile that creeps across his face.

“Next time you want to buy something techy lemme know. I’ll make sure you get the most for what ya pay an all that… But, back to my question- I meant what kind of firewalls do you have on your router, do you use two-factor authentication on the camera?” He knows you don’t have either, but he’ll tell you what to do to start protecting yourself from these animals.

One of the connected IPs is a live cam website that nobody signs up to be on…

The comments on you from just walking in front of it sometimes are lewd and disgust him.

“I hope she walks by today, sigh…”

“She’s so hot… I wish she’d take those panties off more often though…”

“I saw the side of her ass again yesterday. looks so good, god i want to taste her…”

“I’d fuck her so good, better than whoever that ugly fucker is that comes over sometimes…”

“That guy’s so lucky…”

His face is twists in a deeper and deeper disgusted scowl the more he reads, he almost ignored the comments about a guy visiting you.

Almost.

His blood boils.

“I-I didn’t know you need stuff like that… I mean it just faces my cat’s tree anyway! hah…” You giggle more nervously again, feeling a little creeped out by the thought of someone accessing it. Do you walk by sometimes? You realize you do…

“Lemme help you.” He says almost too eagerly. Save it, he thinks quickly. “I-, I like to make sure the people around me are safe at least.”

“That’s so nice of you!! but, I don’t want to ask too much of you, I’m sure i could floogle how to myself!” You sound determined, it’s adorable, and his face softens immediately.

“Nah, it’s seriously no problem, we’re already talkin’ righ’now, an it’ll just take one sec. Promise.” You can hear the smile in his soft voice and feel more at ease again.

“Okay! if you say so, thanks so much, Jasper!”

“Mm,” He can’t help the quiet groan from hearing his name exit your lips, “‘course” He begins the process with you, and makes sure you check the “log out of all other locations” box. of course his doesn’t disconnect though.“I’ll keep you safe from now on.” His words carry a weight that you can feel. Your heart pounds.

“Thank you. I feel better already knowing my cat’s safe!”

You’re more worried about your cat than yourself.

You’re so pure

“Like i said, ‘s no problem. Come to me for whatever you need technologically.” God he hopes you do. He continues typing, working on sending his homemade virus to all these sickos that have gotten to see more of you than they deserve. “I’ll protect you from now on…”

“You-uh- S-sound like you work a lot!” You try and change the topic, your heart flipping over inside you.

“Hmm?” His rumbling voice keeps sending chills throughout your body.

“Oh! sorry, I can hear you typing on your keyboard, what are those? lubed yellows? They sound so nice…” Your face warms, a little embarrassed.

“Mhmm,” He practically moans again, you shiver, “glad you know your switches. They’re my favorite.”

“Could you show me how to lube mine sometime?”

Now it’s his turn with a warm, reddening face, hearing your voice say lube is making him think of anything but keyboards. He idly plays with his lip again, tugging it up with his teeth.

“how ‘bought I do it with you,” You shudder, not knowing, but directly feeling his hidden implications.

You sigh through your nose hoping he doesn’t hear.

He does.

He smiles, ecstatic with the knowledge that you got what he meant.

“Hey, Y/username, I have a little bit of work to do righ’now, can I call you t’morrow?”

“Of course! and it’s Y/N”

He beams, “have a nice evening, Y/N” His voice smooths even more than it already was. He’s barelyy above a whisper speaking into his mic, and straight into your ears.

The effect it has is… A little bit maddening.

“You too,” you speak up with a soft and shaky voice, “see ya later, Jasper” he can tell you’re at least a little aroused by him.

He bites his lip, feeling the tug on his snake bites.

After you hang up, he doesn’t have to wait even a second before the next call is answered:

“Sup Jazzy,” he’s used to hearing his own voice, but it’s always weird coming from another “person”.

“Sup Devvy, how’re you an Issac?”

#oc jasper #my oc #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere #yandere x reader #my fic #yandere x you #dead dove do not eat #tw yandere #streamer yandere #streamer x you #streamer x reader #yandere streamer #male yandere #yandere oc #streamer oc #streamer oc x reader

260 notes · View notes

king-zacharyy · 3 months

Text

Part 1 (Here) Part 2

EDIT: I fixed some spelling/grammar errors and added some things to a couple areas.

TW: Injury, hospitals, surgery mentions

——————————————

"Four chimes. Max."

Nancy had barely finished speaking before Steve was out the door of the Creel house, sprinting back the way they came. He wove through the forest on muscle memory alone, a resurgence of adrenaline fueling his exhausted, wounded body.

The pain and lightheadedness faded away under the constant stream of Max Max Max because that's his kid. His kid, who he let get put in danger. His kid, who he wasn't there to protect, and she has to be okay. She has to be.

Because they had plans for a concert in summer that he had spent months saving up for just for her. And she has to be okay, because if she isn't, he doesn't know what he'll do with himself. He doesn't know how he could possibly live without one of his kids. Without Max. Without his little sister. Without Max.

The sound of loud, gut wrenching, sobs and screams cut through his thoughts, and he stuttered to a stop. Dustin. He bolted in the direction of the sound, absent-mindedly stepping over the demobats littering the ground, motionless.

In the center of the bats, sat Dustin, hunched over a motionless form, his shoulders shaking with the sobs that were much louder now that he was closer.

Steve's shoulders drooped at the sight of Dustin alive before his brain registered who Dustin was slumped over and the state he was in, and he had to bite back a sob of his own. Because there lay Eddie Munson in a pool of his own blood. Munson, who clearly pulled some hero shit, and damn it, Eddie, I told you not to be a hero!

Steve slid in front of Dustin, causing the boy to look up. "Steve! Steve, you have to help him! Eddie, he– he cut the rope– and– and—" Dustin's voice trailed off into sobs again, and Steve sprung into action.

"Dustin, you gotta move. I'm gonna help him, but I need you to move." The curly haired boy nodded, hiccuping, and moved out from under Eddie.

Steve was quick to check his pulse, finding a faint, but very much there, thump thump thump. Steve ripped off his jacket and tied it around the wounds on Munson's side. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he hefted Eddie into a bridal carry and stood.

When he turned, he was met with Nancy's determined face. "Dustin said Munson cut the rope, so I won't be able to get him through there. I want you to take Dustin back through the gate in the trailer and call for an ambulance to Fred's gate. After that, go pick up the kids. Robin, you're with me. Meet us at the hospital."

His tone brokered no arguments as they set off in the direction of the highway, his thoughts a constant stream of Eddie Eddie Eddie and Max Max Max.

The next moments were a blur of movement and sound as they got Eddie and themselves through the gate and into the ambulance once it got there.

They rode in the ambulance with Eddie, Steve making sure the paramedics were doing their job. As soon as they got to Hawkins General, Eddie was taken into surgery, and Steve and Robin were alone in the parking lot.

As they entered the lobby, they were met with chaos. He wove his way through the crowd of people seeking treatment or waiting for loved ones and went to the reception desk, Robin following closely behind him.

"Excuse me, was a Max– um Maxine Mayfield admitted recently?" He asked the nurse there, body thruming with anxiety. She clacked away on her computer for a minute before turning to him.

"There was. Are you family? I'm afraid I can't give any more information unless you are."

"I am. I'm her brother? Please, we got separated, and all I know is she got hurt. Is she– is she okay?"

Pity swirled in her eyes, and he tried not to snap. She glanced back at her computer, reading something before answering, "She's in surgery right now, I'm sorry, I don't know much beyond that."

He nodded shakily, stepping back from the counter. He stumbled as the adrenaline faded. His vision blurred, he felt lightheaded, and his sides burned.

"Steve? Steve!" Robin shouting was the last thing he heard before he collapsed, and his world went black.

●●●●●

"Scoops! I work for Scoops!" He thought he escaped. Why was he back in the base? His head felt light and floaty, so they must've drugged him again. Robin. Where's Robin?

"Steve! Calm down! You're in the hospital. We're not in the base. We got out. I'm right here. Breathe, dingus. You're okay. I'm okay."

Slowly, Steve's breathing evened out, and his vision cleared. He took in the white walls around him and sagged against the bed. White, not steel gray. He glanced to his right, where Robin was sitting, gripping his hand, and he relaxed fully.

The memories of the last week rushed back, and he fought the panic that threatened to rise. Robbie squeezed his hand, reading his mind, and said, "You collapsed because of your wounds and had to be rushed into surgery. You've got some damage to your throat from being strangled, and your bat bites got a minor infection. Your back is also raw and had some cuts on it. The doctor said you'll have a lot of scars, and you'll likely need some physical therapy to rebuild the muscle the bats took, but you should be okay. Don't ever scare me like that again, though, Dingus."

He squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. "Max is.. She's hurt pretty bad. She has a broken arm, both of her legs are broken, and her eyes took a hit. They're not sure if she'll ever walk again, and they have to wait until she wakes up to know if she'll be able to see, but they're hopeful. She's in a medically induced coma so she can heal.

Eddie got here just in time. He lost a lot of blood and needed several transfusions, but he's alive. He'll probably need physical therapy, and he'll scar, but he's gonna be fine."

Steve practically collapsed in relief. They were okay. Hurt, but alive. He squeezed her hand in silent thanks, a question in his eyes when he looked at her.

How is everyone else?

"Everyone else has minor injuries. Erica has some scrapes and bruises from Andy tackling her, and Lucas had to get some stitches because of Jason. Apparently, they attacked the kids, and Jason went all pitchforks and torches on Lucas. Max's Walkman broke in the scuffle, and that's why she got all hurt."

Steve had to breathe for a minute to stave of the murderous rage he felt and the sudden and all-consuming urge to kill the bastards who dare lay a finger on his kids.

"Down, boy. Jason got killed when the gates split open, and Andy is currently in custody. And before you ask, the gates closed pretty soon after they nearly split the town open. We don't know how or why, but they're closed.

Back on the topic of everyone's health, Dustin got a sprained ankle when he went back through the gate after Eddie cut the rope, so he's got an ankle boot for that, but he'll be fine. Nancy and I are okay. The only injuries we got were from the vines choking us, but there was no lasting damage."

He nodded, opening his mouth to talk, barely getting a word out before he's thrown into a coughing fit. Robin handed him a cup of cold water, and he was quick to gulp it down.

"Try not to talk. Like I said, you've got a bit of damage to your throat, so it's gonna hurt to talk for a little."

He nodded again and mimed writing. She grabbed a legal pad and a pen that sat on the table by the bed and handed it over.

'Any word from the Byers?'

"Yeah, Jonathan was able to get into contact a few hours ago. He said they were on their way back to Hawkins and would explain what happened on their end when they got here."

'How long have I been out?'

"About a day. Your surgery lasted for a few hours, and then you were in and out of consciousness a couple of times after the anesthesia wore off."

'Why was everything chaos when we got here yesterday?'

"When the gates initially opened, it caused a pretty massive earthquake, and a lot of people got injured. Now, enough questions. You still need rest. When you wake up next, I'll see if I can convince a nurse to let you see Max. Sleep, everyone will still be here when you wake up, and I'm not gonna leave your side."

With that last bit of reassurance, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Part 2

——————————————

This was mostly an excuse to write Steve passing out from his injuries in Season four and some Steve and Max sibling-ism!

91 notes · View notes

marblemoovt · 7 months

Text

Waterfall - Guts/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, AFAB Reader, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V Sex, Edging, Aftercare (Let me know if I'm missing any)

Summary:

Months after the eclipse, you're still grappling with it all. But at least you're not alone. You might as well get railed to ease the burden of living.

------

“I’m ok,” you repeat, smiling more easily now. His brows furrow and he rests his forehead against yours.

“I could have lost you,” he whispers, his eyes sheen in the light. You click your tongue and pinch his cheek. Guts scowls but doesn’t move away.

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. I’m standing right in front of you, so why do you keep looking back?” There’s a slight tremor in your tone. You unclench your fists, pushing him back to create some distance. There’s a brief flash of emotion across his face, but it dissipates with the heat simmering your blood. “I’m right here,” you whisper against the roar of the waterfall.

Note:

Hello! I know I disappeared for like, almost a year. No freak accidents or anything of the like. Life has just been busy and I have poor time management. But I missed writing, even though it did not miss me ;-; The writing gods did not bless me with inspiration for a long while, not to mention I have a stubborn habit of only having one wip at a time (I have multiple ideas, but I only work on one fic at a time).

In any case, I hope this brings joy to somebody. I am frankly tired from editing this monstrosity so I'll leave you to enjoy :)

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

Note: This does take place in the same universe as Love Triangle but this can be read as a stand-alone.

Water cascades down your body, beating into your skin. The temperature was freezing earlier, but now it’s numbed into a slight chill. You stare at the rock wall, trailing along the cracks and crevices that crater the surface. Sprinkles of minerals sparkle throughout, reflecting rainbows when the moonlight hits them just right.

The cold bite of metal stings into your shoulder, and you jerk away from the contact. Whirling around, you come face to face with Guts. He stares at his hand, clenching it into a fist before it drops to his side.

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” he says. You notice the gray towel peeking out behind his arm.

You drag your fingers through your hair, shaking off the water droplets. A few stray drops trickle down your chin, and Guts watches them drip along your collarbone. “I’ll be done soon,” you say. The phantom blood still sticks to your raw skin, the scent of iron lingering while your body becomes a collage of self-inflicted wounds. You scrubbed and scrubbed, but it’s not enough. Not even an entire ocean can wash away the atrocities you witnessed. But maybe that’s the burden of surviving the eclipse, for living when you were marked for death.

“You looked done 20 minutes ago. Skin’s gonna start peeling if you don’t stop,” he says. You look away from Guts and pick at the dead skin underneath your nails, grimacing at your wrinkled fingertips.

“I don’t feel done. I don’t think I ever will,” you admit in a hushed whisper. Guts doesn’t say anything, offering his hand for you to take. Accepting the gesture, you’re tugged into his chest. The soft towel gently pats your skin dry and tousles your wet hair. He pauses, eyes scanning your face. “I’m okay, as okay as one can be in our situation.” Your lips twitch into a small smile, but this seems to only frustrate him more.

Guts growls, his jaw clenched shut. “I’ll kill him.” There’s no room for questioning who ‘he’ is. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, and his posture relaxes. Your thumb traces the bags underneath his eyes.

“I’m ok,” you repeat, smiling more easily now. His brows furrow and he rests his forehead against yours.

“I could have lost you,” he whispers, his eyes sheen in the light. You click your tongue and pinch his cheek. Guts scowls but doesn’t move away.

“I’m not…. ”He sighs and finally meets your gaze. “I’m not angry at you.” Guts fiddles with the towel in his hand. “I wasn’t strong enough to save you.” His touch drifts towards the bandages wrapping his torso.

You walk up to Guts, enveloping him in a hug. “Can we pretend for once that everything is ok? That spirits aren’t hunting us, and a bunch of Apostles won’t fuck up the world?” When he doesn’t respond, you look to see him staring at the ceiling. “Guts?”

“Clothes,” he stutters. “You’re not wearin’ any.” You look down at your naked body pressed against his.

“You weren’t shy earlier when you were drying me.” Leaning in further has the desired effect when you feel a bulge against your lower abdomen. “Looks like someone has no complaints,” you say with a smirk.

Guts groans and shudders when you roll your hips. He wraps an arm around your waist, palm splayed against the curve of your back. His hand slides to squeeze your ass, and he whispers into your ear, “Don’t provoke me.” It’s a similar tone to when he shouts orders on the battlefield. You take it as an invitation to tease him further. He notices the glint in your eyes and clicks his tongue. “Brat.”

You know he’s soft beneath that tough exterior. You can see it in how he brings you something warm to drink when it’s cold, how his hands naturally gravitate to your waist or the small of your back. Guts doesn’t like saying it, but you just know. Currently, he’s scolding you for being in the water too long. You won’t point it out, but he grabbed the softest towel to dry you.

“I love you,” you say. His hands freeze, and the lines on his face soften.

Guts sighs, “How can you be so lovely and infuriating at the same time?” He cups your cheek but quickly recoils upon noticing the gleam of metal contrasting against your skin.

You grab his wrist and press a kiss onto the palm of his prosthetic hand. “It’s one of my many talents,” you reply, pressing another kiss to his lips to prevent him from biting them.

“It’s strange,” Guts mumbles. Your other hand slides down his chest, trailing along his abs to the waistline of his pants. His breath hitches, and he nips your earlobe in retaliation. “Sometimes I still feel it when you touch that hand,” he says.

“Do you feel this?” You trace the outline of his growing erection, eventually rubbing your hand against the bulge in his trousers. He bucks his hips into your touch, and a low groan escapes from his lips. “Or what about this?” Slipping your hand beneath the fabric, you’re surprised by the lack of an additional layer. “Expecting something, are we?” You grin impishly at him, inching your fingers closer to his cock. Your skin is still cold from the water, and Guts is blazing beneath your touch.

“Not at”—you firmly grip his shaft and begin stroking languidly—”all,” he forces through gritted teeth. You can almost hear the creak of his jaw as it strains under pressure.

“So you weren’t expecting to find me still naked at the waterfall and indulge in some intimate acts?” You stop stroking to tease the head of his cock, running your thumb over the frenulum. Thick precum coats your hand, and you reluctantly pull away, but only to see the frustration grow on Guts’s face. “Then I guess there’s no need for me to continue.” You wade through the pool and use the waterfall to rinse your hand.

As you’re flicking off water droplets, a broad chest presses against your back, and thick arms wrap around your waist. The sudden force pushes you into the rock wall, your hands flying up out of instinct to lessen the impact. You turn your head to see Guts, completely bare, his clothes lying in a forgotten heap by the pool. That explains what’s twitching against your lower back. You grind slow, lazy circles against his stiff cock, grinning at how he trembles with the slightest rock of your hips.

“Stop,” he pleads, squeezing his arms to constrain your movements. It’s cute; he’s pretending to stop you, but his hold is too lax.

You hum and redirect one of his hands to your breasts, sighing at the contact. “If you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be enthusiastically rutting like a dog in heat,” you say. As if to prove your point, a low whine pitches in the back of his throat when you press against him to hinder his movements.

“So maybe I don’t want to stop,” he admits. “Maybe I want to rough you up against the wall until you can’t walk the next day.” The imagery sends a gush of slickness between your thighs, and you rub them together to ease the ache.

“Then why don’t you?” You spin around to face him and hook one leg around his thigh, tugging his hips closer. The sharp exhale followed by a groan is music to your ears. Your arms drape over his shoulders, sinking your nails into his broad back. You have him trapped. Or is it the other way around? He could effortlessly pry you off, but his dark eyes hold no intention of letting you go. “I don’t break easily, you know,” you whisper against his lips, his breath fanning your face.

Guts bites his lips, fingers bruising your hips, marks he’ll kiss in the morning when you’re bedridden. “I—“

You cut him off, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Let me make myself clear, Guts. I want you to fuck me.” His breath hitches, the click of his throat silenced by the rush of water. “Fuck me so damn hard I don’t remember a thing about this shitty world we live in.” You want to spend at least an hour free from the waking nightmare that plagues your daily life. Maybe this isn’t the best way, but it is the most pleasant.

You know you’ll go to bed and dream of crimson skies and shrill screams. A world where the tang of metal never leaves your mouth. Where rot and decay fester in your lungs, smothering you alongside the scent of burning flesh. And then you’ll wake up, touch your face to feel the wet streaks streaming down your cheeks. Guts will be sleeping beside you, faring no better in his dreams, relaxing only when you hold his hand and lay on his chest.

Yeah, the world is fucked up, and so is your mental state. You might as well get railed to ease the burden of living.

But enough about later. What’s happening right now is important. And what’s happening right now is Guts pleading with his eyes to please you. He has one arm hooked underneath your leg to support it, the other still wrapped around your waist, hand dipping to cup your ass. He grinds his erection against your clit, and you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

Guts kisses behind your ear, sucking on the spot. Your blood thrums through your veins, buzzing with electricity. “Guess the waterfall will be useful,” he says.

“How so?” you hum, closing your eyes as he trails his lips along your jawline. You tilt your head back, and he peppers your exposed throat with kisses, playfully nipping but careful to avoid breaking the skin. A tingle shoots up from the base of your spine when his teeth scrape over your pulse, tongue laving over your racing heartbeat.

“Others won’t hear any of your screams.” He hoists you up, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. “I get to have you all to myself.” Your back thuds against the wall, the rough rock leaving a light sting on your skin. There’s a hunger in his eyes that threatens to devour you. He always gets that look when he’s determined to spoil you rotten.

You ignore the throbbing heat in your core, focusing on the slanted curve of his lips. “Ooh, confident are we?” you tease, dragging your nails across his back, grinning at the shudder it elicits.

“I’ve always been skillful with my hands,” he says, lowering your feet. At the shallow end of the pool, water laps at your knees. The chill heightens the burn of your skin, and the slickness between your thighs becomes impossible to ignore. Guts sinks down, kneeling in front of you, hands parting your legs gently. He tuts and gazes at you with mock scorn. “You cleaned up earlier, but now you’ve made a mess again.”

“And whose fault is that?” you reply, inhaling sharply when his fingers rub circles into your thighs.

He hums and plants a kiss on your kneecap, lips skirting up closer to the source of your dripping cunt. “A man should always take responsibility for his actions.” His warm breath is like a spark of flint on kindling. It starts a blazing heat that crawls up and pools in your stomach, spreading throughout your veins until your entire body is engulfed in flames.

A thin veil of fog blankets your mind. For a second, you almost forget how to breathe. He looks up at you from between your legs, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. He looks eager to taste you; it causes you to clench tightly, gripping around nothing but air. And you want him to fill you up, to replace the void the eclipse left behind after it tore almost everything from you.

Your body seizes up. A cool jet of air against your clit catches you off guard. Guts looks you in the eyes, trapping you in their dark depths. “If—at any time—you want me to stop, tell me,” he commands. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and he holds your gaze. He won’t continue unless you agree.

You wrack your brain together, drumming your fingers on the wall behind you to form a coherent thought. But all you can focus on is his warm breath against your skin, the burning ache in your core that beckons for his attention.

Guts sighs, drinking in your scent deeply. He licks his lips, and his fingers dig into your flesh. “I don’t want this to be like the other times,” he admits.

You stare at him quietly, observing the clarity in his eyes. This isn’t the first time you’ve sought each other’s company. After all, who better to seek comfort from than someone who’s been through the same traumatizing event? Overcome with grief and guilt, you found solace in the warmth of his body and vice versa. It wasn’t always sexual, but sometimes you crave the shelter of having no other thoughts besides pleasure. To know nothing else but pure bliss for a brief respite.

Guts mistakes your silence for rejection. “Let me cherish you,” he pleads. “Let me worship you the way you deserve.” And you recall dark nights of clashing teeth and tongues, scratches and bruises made just to feel something—anything. There’s still a tinge of purple around his collarbone, the imprint of your teeth long faded. The harsh lines on his face are nonexistent. His touch is light, revering.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this important. Guts doesn’t treat you like glass. He looks like he would raze the entire world in flames for you, and all you need to do is ask. Cupping his chin in one hand, you stare into his earnest eyes. Guts pulls away to plant kisses along your knuckles. The corners of his mouth curl up at your sigh when he nips at your fingertips. It’s hard to describe this feeling. All the tension and worry in your body building up like a brick wall suddenly crumbles to dust.

And how can you say no when he looks so eager to please—to love you? A brief taste of copper coats your tongue, and you ignore the phantom claws dragging down your lower abdomen. You focus instead on Guts’s soft touches, the steady gurgle of water, and the moonlight filtering through the pockets of sky in the ceiling.

You are safe.

“Ok,” you whisper. Slowly, you spread your legs apart and cool your burning cheeks with the back of your hand. “Please touch me.”

Guts plants a kiss on your inner thigh, trailing upwards. He wants to drag this out and tease you until the anticipation has you dripping with need. With one calloused hand resting on your pubic mound, he licks a long stripe through your folds, groaning at your intoxicating taste. A jolt of pleasure crawls up your back before slamming into your core.

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when he eats you out messily. Obscene slurps and groans bounce off the rock walls. Guts slings one of your legs over his shoulder and focuses on your clit, inserting two fingers into your dripping cunt. Spots of light dance across your vision when he crooks his fingers to stroke your sweet spot. It’s a wonder how you’re still standing.

Just as the band in your stomach goes taut, Guts pulls away. The pleasure building in your body drops and transforms into a sharp ache that has your body screaming for release.

“Your legs are trembling,” Guts points out.

You press harder against the wall and try to remember how to stand. “No, I’m not,” you say.

Guts hums and plants a kiss on your clit, the kind that fills your veins with lava and sets off the butterflies in your stomach. “You can be so damn stubborn.” He stands and carries you with ease, wading towards the edge.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Some underwater training,” Guts replies, refusing to elaborate further. He stops and sets you on the ground. The water reaches just below your chest in this position; the sudden coldness shocks your skin. It makes you hyper-aware of your sensitivity.

Gus parts your legs, and you lean back slightly, using your arms to support yourself from behind. His touch radiates familiarity, hands caressing all the spots that work you up. You lick your lips and part then to ask another question. “Wha—“

“Always wanted to see how long I could hold my breath,” Guts cuts you off, petting your clit gently. He gazes at you through hooded lids, a grin ghosting his lips. “They say the average is 3-5 minutes. Let’s set a new record.” His words send tingles throughout your body, and you clench at the thought.

“What do you mean?” you ask, distracted by the circles he’s drawing with his thumb. If you time it just right, you can buck your hips and have him stroke your swollen clit.

“Don’t worry about it.” And the next thing you know, his head’s underwater and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. Your fingers immediately thread his hair, tugging his scalp when his nose brushes against your clit.

The water and walls blur into blobs of colour, your heartbeat thundering in your eardrums. The throbbing between your thighs quickens, and that band in your stomach threatens to snap and give you whiplash. Guts brings a hand up close to your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut, dangling on the precipice of an orgasm.

He surfaces from the water. His shit-eating grin only widens when you vocalize your discontentment. A flick to your clit shortcircuits your brain with a jolt of pleasure, eliciting a scream from your lips. One of your hands slips, and suddenly the world is careening backwards—or is it forwards?

Strong arms wrap around your body, and suddenly you’re face to face with Guts instead of the ceiling. Water splashes and drenches both of you in the crossfire. You try to stand up, but Guts digs his fingers into your hips. Something warm brushes against your bare cunt.

This new position has you straddling Guts. Even the most minuscule movements cause some degree of friction. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s barely restraining himself. Since his hands hold your hips in place, you lean forward and attack his neck with bites and hickeys. Guts hisses and immediately stands up, hoisting you with him.

“Let’s move to land. Wouldn’t want you to drown,” he rasps, shuddering when you lick over his racing pulse.

“I can think of other ways to leave me breathless,” you whisper, lifting your head and baring your neck. The perfect place for his hands to wrap around.

“Another time. Right now, I want you to sit on my face,” he says, setting you on the ground. Your cunt throbs in response, and you crawl—a little too eagerly—into position. You stop mere centimetres from his face, hovering in your hesitation. Inklings of doubt blot your thoughts. What if you’re too heavy? What if you smother— “Too long,” he grunts, interrupting your inner monologue. Guts grips your thighs and pulls you down, wasting no time ravaging you with his tongue,

You suck in a breath, hips rocking at a steady rhythm. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when his mouth latches around your clit and sucks greedily. He pulls away with a pop, the bottom half of his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips and groans, “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

“Less talking, more licking,” you say.

“What, no please?”

You don’t humour him with a response and take matters into your own hands. You lift your hips and grind against the ridge of his nose.

Guts swears under his breath, inhaling your intoxicating scent. “What am I going to do with you?” he groans.

You huff in frustration at the loss of stimulation. “What you should have done ages ago. Now shut up before I make you.”

Guts doesn’t move. “Not until you say please,” he says.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” you moan, wriggling your hips to no avail since his hands have barred you from moving any lower.

“I just want to hear you beg for it.” He spreads your lips and admires how wet you are. When you remain silent, he massages the area surrounding your clit. “No? Not gonna cave in?”

You narrow your eyes and scrape your nails against his broad chest. “Fuck, you.” It comes out through gritted teeth.

Guts chuckles. A low sound filled with mirth. “Oh, love. You wish.” His thumb probes your entrance, pulling out to slide along your slit. “I do have to praise you for holding out this long. It must feel unbearable.” And it does. Your skin is about to burst at the seams as the pleasure threatens to drive you mad. Never given enough to bring you over the edge, but just enough to stimulate the ache in your core—the desire to be filled.

“Not. At. All.”

Guts clucks his tongue, drawing circles around your swollen clit. “Liar.” He slowly pushes a finger into your cunt, adding another when he feels how wet you are. It doesn’t take long before the squelches reach your burning ears. His fingers curl and stroke that sensitive area on your walls. The pace is agonizingly slow, and it only deepens the ache. You bite down on your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Your body trembles when he plants a kiss on your clit. Ah, to hell with playing hard to get. You might die if he doesn’t give you an orgasm right now.

“Guts?” you groan, clenching when he pets your clit in response.

“Yes, my love?” He sounds so smug. You don’t even need to look to see the smirk on his face.

“…Please,” you whisper, hissing when he stops his ministrations.

“Didn’t catch what you said. Gonna need you to repeat that.” He slowly resumes his movements, rubbing his fingertips against your walls.

You grunt and try to focus, blinking to clear the fog in your brain. “Please. Fuck. Me.” You punctuate each word with a thrust of your hips. Guts’s fingers immediately retract, and you whine at the loss, only to throw your head back when he eats you out like a man starved.

His hands hold you in place, only allowing enough freedom to ride his face, which you do—greedily. He runs the flat of his tongue across your slit. Every so often he comments on how good you taste, normally ending with how he can never get enough. You don’t know. You don’t really care. He’s drawing patterns on your clit, each stroke bringing you closer to climax.

And you’re so close. You can almost feel it. Guts must sense it, too, because he focuses on your clit, hands locking you snugly against his face. With his unrelenting tongue, you cum with a scream. Your entire body buzzes with electricity, clit throbbing in time with your clenches. Guts doesn’t stop, and soon the pleasure borders on pain. It’s too much. You jerk away, but he keeps you trapped in his hold.

You can’t think anymore. You can only incoherently babble for him to let you go. And then it creeps up on you. The aftershocks of your last orgasm, combined with the continued stimulation, tighten that band in your stomach again. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision. It’s too much. You want it to stop.

But it feels so fucking good.

Guts swaps his tongue for his fingers, filling you up once more. Your back arches when he brushes over your g-spot. You mewl and beg him to do it again.

“One more time. Cum for me one more time,” he orders. And how can you say no when he uses that tone? Guts pays special attention to your previous request, fingers curling with practiced precision. “I want even the gods to hear you scream my name.”

He doesn’t need to convince you. Liquid heat pools in your stomach, bubbling like a pot about to boil over. His name is the first sound to leave your lips when you come undone. Guts is gentler this time; he draws out your orgasm slowly, careful not to overstimulate you. Your vision burns with tears as your body curls up before sagging bonelessly.

You heave a sigh and crawl to the side, shuddering when the cold air hits your sensitive skin With a content smile, you stare at Guts in a daze, fuzzy warmth blanketing your mind.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mhmm.” Your eyes drift to his erection; it twitches under your attention. Suddenly you’re aware of the heady scent of musk in the air. Licking your lips, you look back at Guts. He doesn’t say anything, but his pupils are blown. “Can I?” You inch closer to him, and he nods. You spread the precum leaking from the tip with your thumb. On an impulse, you lick the remainder off your finger, smirking when you hear his sharp intake of breath.

A bitter saltiness greets your tastebuds, but it’s milder than you anticipated. You well up some saliva in your mouth and use it to lubricate your hand to begin stroking. Slow, firm pumps have him twitching against your palm.

“Faster, please,” he groans, jerking his hips upwards to match your strokes.

“Ooh, so you do know how to be polite,” you say as you tighten your grip and increase the pace. Guts’s chest rises and falls faster than before.

His face distorts in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. “Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, nose scrunching.

You laugh and rub his thighs soothingly. “Just this once,” and you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can manage. Running your tongue across the underside of his cock, you widen your jaw to avoid scraping him with your teeth. Anything you can’t fit gets stroked by your hands. Glancing up, you notice him watching you with a tenderness that’s been rare as of late.

He’s been worrying and training almost to the point of obsession. You want to ease that ache in his chest and have him forget momentarily about all you’ve gone through together. Although, judging from how his eyes are starting to glaze over, your objective doesn’t seem that far away.

It started out small, but now the walls echo with his moans and breathy whines. Each sound is like a lightning bolt between your thighs, burning you with strikes of pleasure. You bring a hand down to play with your clit, hoping to ease the ache.

His cock pulsates in your mouth. His entire body starts shuddering, and you know he’s close. So you slow to a halt and chortle at his frustration. The look he gives you could wither the low-level spirits that hang around. Taking a breath, you inch slowly down to take more of his cock, chest brimming with pride at how his body immediately tenses.

“You’re going to kill me here, my love,” he groans, hips stuttering between pulling away and pushing further in.

You slide your mouth off his cock and lick your lips, massaging his balls with your hand. “I want to milk as much of your cum as I can and drink it all,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the tip. You feel a twitch against your fingers and smirk. “Seems like you’re on board with my plan.”

One of his large, warm hands is placed against your head, stroking your hair. You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Not the only place I’d like to fill you up,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his tone.

“Are you sure you can last that long?” you ask, and his fingers cheekily tug on your hair. The gesture draws a chuckle from you. You open your eyes to see him full of amusement.

“You’re underestimating the stamina of a great swordsman,” he boasts.

You raise a brow. That’s a big claim. “Hm? Then why don’t you show me what your sword can do?” You straddle his hips, your drenched cunt seated against the shaft of his cock. It twitches against you, and you bring a hand down to tease the leaking tip.

“Change of plans?” Guts asks, tone wavering as you slowly pump his cock.

You hum, “I’m feeling a little impatient today.”

“What happened to milking me for all I’m worth?” The cockiness in his tone returns. “Going back now on those big claims?”

You chuckle and flick the head of his cock, watching Guts writhe in response. “You’re trying to rile me up, but it’s not working,” you say.

“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible when you get all fired up,” he says,

You line up the tip of his cock with your entrance, slowly sinking down until his entire length is inside you. “Sorry to disappoint, but the only one losing their cool today is you.”

You start bouncing your hips, finding a steady rhythm to keep. Angling your body, his cock drags against your walls in all the right places. Guts begins aiming his thrusts when he notices how you cry out each time he hits the mark.

Guts groans, face screwed tight in concentration. “You’re gonna squeeze me to death,” he moans.

You smirk, running your hands across his chest. “It took you this long to realize my intentions?”

He responds with an airy laugh. “You always were a damn good strategist.”

“And you’re living up to your title, General,” you say, feeling a twitch inside you. “Oh? You like it when I call you that, don’t you?”

Guts looks at you with a sheepish grin. “If I say I do, will you call me that more often?” he asks.

You hum, tracing his abs with your fingertips. “I’ll consider it, but it would have to be sparingly. Don’t want to inflate your ego too much,” you tease. A spank smarts your ass. The sting is quickly soothed by a gentle massage. You retaliate with slow, deep thrusts, grinning when Guts curses and loses his ability to form sentences.

His cock throbs inside you, swelling up in preparation for his release. Guts’s fingers are bruising your hips, and he’s rutting into you. Slamming yourself down, you remain seated.

“Fuck, I was so close,” he groans, cock twitching in your warm cunt.

“I know. That’s why I stopped,” you say.

Guts looks at you with betrayal. “You, my dear, are a cruel lover.”

You tsk and clench tightly around him. “I may be a bit mean, but never cruel.”

“If this isn’t cruelty, then wha—“

You cut him off with a roll of your hips, successfully speech-jamming him. “You’ll see,” you say.

You continue drawing out his release, bringing Guts near the edge only to wrench him away. You’ve lost count—not that you were even counting in the first place—of how many potential orgasms you’ve robbed him of. But from the sour gleam in his eyes, a few too many.

Any of his attempts to take over the pace are thwarted when you turn into an immovable object. The loss of friction is not deemed a worthwhile risk because Guts soon lets you have your way after only a few attempts.

“Good boy,” you purr, a chuckle tickling the back of your throat. “Look at you, getting turned on when so much as a compliment is awarded.” You drag your fingers down his chest, sloping along the defined ridges of his muscles. “It’s kind of cute,” you admit.

Guts watches you through hooded lids, mouth parting as incoherent pleas spill between his lips. You tsk and twist your lips into a mock frown. “Oh no. Did I wear you down already?” You cradle his face in your hand, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “I can feel you throbbing inside me. Do you want to cum?” you ask, receiving a shudder in response when you roll your hips.

“Mhmm,” he grunts, nodding in fervour. Guts runs his hands along your thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh. “Please,” he adds politely.

You hum and slow your movements. “Do you deserve to?”

It’s borderline hilarious to watch the gears in his head turn. The vacant look in his eyes shifts as they widen. “I do,” he says, but the slight wobble in his tone is tinged with nerves.

You can’t stop the grin forming on your face and opt to kiss his damp forehead to hide it. “Relax,” you hush, “I’ll let you cum……

“…eventually.”

Guts groans and slides a hand between your thighs, fingers searching for your clit. You clench tightly around him when he taps it gently with his thumb. “Looks like the blood’s starting to rush back into the right head”—Guts slams his hips upwards, nearly winding you—“Ow, fuck! Ok, ok. No more jokes during sex.” You wince from your sore abdomen. “I’ll cut you a deal,” you pause to gain his attention. “If you make me orgasm within the next ten minutes, I’ll let you cum.”

“You can’t take back your word,” he grunts through gritted teeth. You squeal, arms flailing to wrap around his neck when he flips you onto the ground. There’s a pregnant pause as you stare into each other's eyes. Warm. There’s so much warmth in his gaze for you. “Beautiful,” he says, running his fingers along your face.

Your chest squeezes tight. You turn your head, feeling the cool stone floor press against your burning cheeks. “9 minutes,” you say. Guts clicks his tongue and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. He angles his thrusts, ramming into the deepest parts of you. The inferno consuming your body melts your bones to liquid.

“With the sounds you’re making, it won’t be long,” he grunts. You clench tightly around him like a vice. Every well-aimed thrust sends your walls pulsating around his cock. The familiar tightening in your stomach takes hold and threatens to tear you asunder. “Fuck you look so good like this, I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”

You feel calloused fingers brush against your clit, and a bolt of electricity strikes the base of your spine. He chuckles at the way your body curls open like a flower, eager to meet the sun’s rays. When your hips raise to meet him halfway, who is he to deny you of more pleasure?

He brings a finger to his mouth, groaning at your lingering taste on his skin. Before you know it, the building pleasure threatens to burst. He rolls your clit between his fingers, applying constant pressure. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

How much time was left? Gods, you don’t remember anymore. All you can think about is how you’re a second away from release.

The intensity drops. Guts’s thrusts remain deep; his cock drags along your walls in a sweet, slow torture. The flames licking your body from the inside are dying, but the embers are stoked just enough to keep the fire going. “You wouldn’t dare,” you seethe between clenched teeth. The muscles in your jaw are almost as tense as the knot in your stomach.

“Who says I wouldn’t?” Guts remarks calmly. A slight chill creeps up your spine, and you begin to sweat for reasons other than physical exertion.

“But then you don’t get to cum,” you say, trying to build a counterargument to sway him. You were so close; you needed just a little more to get there. In all honesty, both of you knew that if he really wanted to, Guts could easily ignore the bet. But that would mean destroying the mutual trust you spent years building. And you know both of you would rather die than betray the other.

“You said within the next ten minutes, I still have two left.” He slaps your pubic mound lightly, fingers resting above your swollen clit. “It’s not like you specified a time, only a period. So it doesn’t matter if there’s only a second left as long as you cum before it’s over.”

You shudder. What have you done?

Guts begins mumbling to himself. Between the grunts and groans, you can just barely make out a decreasing string of numbers. He’s seriously counting down the seconds he has left before the bet is over??

You arch your back, fingers fisting the stone floor with nothing to ground you. “Fuck me,” you sigh, lifting your hips to feel his cock brush against that sensitive spot.

“Already am,” Guts rasps, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Any other requests?”

“Yeah, fuck me harder.”

He leans down to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. “As you wish.”

And fuck you harder he does. You swear you must be above the clouds with all the stars you see. The slap of flesh echoes in your ears, filled with strained grunts and moans. You like it when Guts is vocal; it makes you feel like you’re doing a good job. One of the quickest ways he can turn you on is by moaning your name, which he’s doing right now. His breathy sighs as your name slips out of his mouth repeatedly like a prayer… it drives you crazy.

There’s only one thought in your mind; it overtakes all the others. You’re on the brink of an orgasm, standing at the edge of a cliff as you wait for the final push. “M’ close,” you say. Your clit throbs, and you feel a tug in your navel as the pressure builds.

“Then let’s bring you closer.” He slowly increases the pace, and your nails claw his back, leaving scratches in their wake. “I want you to look at me when you come undone. Can you do that for me?” You nod, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he rubs your clit. “Good.” His fingers maintain pace, and he consistently rams his cock against your g-spot.

Your body thrums with pleasure, ready to come undone at his command. Guts wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes gently. He wasn’t affecting your oxygen supply, but fuck did it do things to you. His thrusts become deeper, pounding into you at a steady rhythm.

That was all it took to shove you off the edge. Your walls spasm around his cock in a toe-curling orgasm. All you can focus on is the waves of mind-numbing pleasure crashing into you, the force of the undertow sweeping you away.

Guts continues to thrust, helping you ride out your orgasm. As you come down from your high, dizzy and lightheaded, you feel his cock swell inside you. He pulls out, pumping his cock as his warm seed spills onto your stomach.

You laugh a breathy chuckle, staring at the mess he made. “I think I need another bath,” you say.

Guts kisses the top of your head and says, “Then let’s get cleaned up.” He scoops an arm underneath your knees and wraps the other around your back.

“Guts!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t drop you,” he says, walking towards the pool. Wading in, he brings you to the stream of water. Already, the spray of droplets is freezing against your skin. You shudder and cling closer to Guts and the heat he radiates. “I’ll help you wash up,” and he lowers your legs, a hand still resting on the small of your back.

“I am capable of washing myself,” you say. Hopefully, the rising sun made the water at least slightly more tolerable. But from how it feels like your feet are encased in ice, you don’t have much hope.

Guts cups some water in his hands and pours it onto your shoulders. “I know you can, but I want to,” he says, kissing the side of your temple. “So stop being stubborn and let me help you.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t kn—“ Guts flicks water at your face with a smirk. You pause, your brain struggling to process what happened. “You!” Your eyes narrow into a glare.

Guts bolts, his laughter reverberating the cave walls. You run after him, but it’s difficult despite the water reaching only your calves. Guts is somehow brute forcing his way, but you adapt a weird mixture of hopping and running to catch up.

Once you’re within arm's length of Guts, you kick up the water, successfully splashing him. The smug grin on your face falters when he turns around with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He moves only a single step before your flight instincts take over.

Your heart is thumping against your chest, thundering in your ears. His fingertips brush against your spine, and you squeal, dodging to the side. Large splashes grow closer and closer. But they suddenly stop. And amid your confusion, you stop running.

Looking over your shoulder, you see no sign of Guts except a few ripples in the water where you expected him to be.

“Got ya!” Big, strong hands wrap around your waist, and the ground disappears beneath your feet. The world spins in a whirlwind of lights and cool shades of blue and purple. As your surroundings grind to a halt, warm arms pull you into an embrace. Your laughter is dampened by his hug, and you blink to quell the dizziness.

You stare into his eyes, watching black swallow brown. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek. “Shower?” you whisper, unwilling to break the stillness. If the universe would let you, you would spend every day like this with him. To wake and sleep together, sharing the mundane moments of life and experiencing the little pockets of joy as they occur. But that’s not the kind of world you live in— not if Griffith has anything to say about it.

Guts leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah, let’s get cleaned up.” He guides you back to the waterfall, fingers intertwined. You follow him without resistance. All the running around has warmed you up, but that only makes the water feel colder. Guts is careful as he washes you. “I know it’s cold, but you’re being so good for me,” he coos. His hands firmly glide across your skin. You feel him pause to trace the scars on your body, gently tracing the thin lines on your lower abdomen. His touch dips down between your thighs, and you part them.

He does nothing more than clean up the mess he made, but you’re still sensitive. Little tremors run through your body, the aftershocks of your ground-shaking orgasm. Guts surprises you with a kiss on your neck. You swear this man is trying to kill you with his affection. With the uncomfortable slickness gone, you lean against Guts and relish in him pampering you. If only you had brought more soap. You could have asked him to wash your hair.

“Done?” he asks, to which you nod. Guts picks you up again and carries you to dry land, where he dries you off with the towel again. “Arms up,” he commands. And before you know it, a shirt is pulled over your head. The fabric still smells like him. Smoke from a fire pit and the medicinal scent of herbs from his ointment. You glance over and watch him put on his pants. Your eyes trail along the scars on his body. Most of them have healed nicely, but they’ll always remain to remind you how close to death you were that night.

Your fingers absentmindedly rest against the area of your brand. Before you can slip into a spiral, Guts calls out your name. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are focused on where your hand is. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. You’re unsure if he believes you, but he nods and doesn’t pry further.

Your eyes begin to droop, and a big yawn escapes your mouth. “I think it’s time to rest,” Guts says. Luckily, your sleeping arrangements aren’t too far. With Rickert’s help, Erica was able to find a larger bedroll for you and Guts to share. You never voiced the thought out loud, but you liked the closeness it forced. Something about sleeping in his arms brought you a sense of peace and security.

When he holds you at night, the nightmares leave you in peace. The screams quiet, and the stench of iron is replaced with cedar and smoke. The arms around your waist are tender. Guts is like a kiln; you’re dry clay—fragile at first but robust after exposure to his warmth.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Guts asks, petting your hair. You’re lying in bed, limbs tangled like vines wrapped around a tree.

The corners of your lips curl up. “Like what?”

Guts leans his forehead against yours. “Like I’m everything to you. That’s my job,” he says.

You’re smiling so much your cheeks ache. “I love you.”

Guts mirrors your smile. His hand slides down to cup your face. You can feel his breath tickle your skin. His eyes dart to your parted lips before closing the gap.

The kiss is slow and tender. Soft, pliable lips that leave you panting for air. Guts trails his mouth along your jawline, leaving a path of fire as he moves to the hollow of your throat.

You can’t help but let out a content sigh when he pays attention to the sensitive area. Your cheeks tingle at the thought of waking up and being greeted with a new mark. Guts plants one last kiss on your collarbone before drawing you closer to him.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles into your skin. You snuggle into him, wanting his scent to envelop you. His next words are so quiet you almost miss them. “Promise me you won’t leave, too.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. You look into his eyes and see a reflection of what you’ve become. His dark circles fare no better than yours, and that vengeful spark has dulled, having been weathered over time by grief.

You lost your friends and family, but so did he.

With the brand carved into your skin and the spirits waiting around every corner to devour you…. “You know I can’t promise you that,” you say, and you hate how your words feel like a punch to your own gut.

“Then lie to me and promise anyway,” he whispers, staring at you through glossy eyes.

You bite your lip but refuse to look away. Raising a hand to wipe his tears, you say, “I promise to stay for as long as I’m able.”

Guts nods, soothed by your response. “Rest. I’ll keep us safe.”

Us. The word sends your heart a flutter. You shift into a comfortable position and drift into darkness, dreaming of campfires and starry skies for once.

End Note:

It's like I can't decide whether I want the fic to be sad, happy, or horny. So why not all three?

I also decided to bite the bullet and get image dividers, because trying to get center formatting and having it stay consistent across platforms is tiring. Do they look ok? I got them from a Tumblr post by @/saradika if anyone wanted to know.

I have no idea when my next work will come out. I already have some fics queued up and knowing myself, I'll either speed right through them, or drag them out too long and lose interest lol

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

#guts x reader #guts x reader smut #berserk x reader #berserk fic #berserk #afab reader #otherwise gender neutral #no y/n #fluff and smut #Angst #But just a smidge #It helps season the fic #This sat in my drafts way too long #Why is writing smut so hard #Why can't I have some sort of divine oracle to enlighten me?#Time to yeet this into the void and never look back

286 notes · View notes