#when you're crazy you're crazy and every bit of emotion is used against you so go shove those manners up your ass idc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

Disgusting food roulette | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.

Warning: Feeling sick in the stomach.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"I really need to participate?" Y/N asked as she ran her eyes over the triplets. She had her hips resting on the table, where various types of food, sweets, and drinks were displayed.

"It'll be cool! And Matt needs the emotional support." Nick joked, lightly patting Matt's right shoulder, who was looking at the food with a disgusted look.

“It’s not like you won’t do well, Y/N.” Chris scoffed, crossing his arms, before looking at the camera. "She is the only person in the world who isn't fussy about any food. Anything you give her, she will eat it."

The girl rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh while shaking her head. It was true that she wasn't fussy about food, but that didn't hold back the shiver that ran up her spine every time she looked at some of the items on the table.

Raw egg? Easy cheese? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about the taste of them against her tongue.

"As you can see, we have four separate piles of food here. Y/N didn't buy the food of her side since we decided she would participate when we were already at the grocery store." Matt explained while gesturing to the separated piles.

"Exactly, so we bought the food for her." Nick finished with a smirk on his face, arranging the items in a row.

"They put me in a mess, guys. I didn't even know what foods they would buy, now I regret even getting out of bed." Y/N grumbled miserably, helping the boys open all the product packaging.

Nick rolled his eyes at her drama, quickly explaining about the app they would use to choose who would go in turn.

"Let's begin!"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Please, don't be me. Please, don't be me." Nick speaks repeatedly with a frown on his face, his right hand over his mouth while his left index finger pressed the screen of his phone.

Y/N let out a laugh at him, also pressing her finger on the screen, along with Chris and Matt. Matt's right arm was around her shoulder as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the strong, disgusting taste that was settling in his mouth.

The girl watched him momentarily from the corner of her eye, checking if he was well within the limit, feeling his hand squeezing her biceps lightly.

Chris's excited scream caught her attention abruptly, her eyes traveling to the screen. Her finger had been chosen to eat the yellow pepper.

She stared at the pepper for a few seconds, the triplets' laughter sounding like a background sound to her ears.

"Wait, isn't that the yellow pepper we use as seasoning?" Y/N asked, taking some steps away from Matt and the boys and finally picking up the food, twirling it between her fingers.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Nick pressed, looking at her expectantly.

Matt watched her closely, pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter, supporting his own weight against the table with his left arm.

The girl shrugged. If her theory was right, that was one of her favorite peppers. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit off a small piece, chewing carefully as she felt the taste and burn settle on her tongue.

"Um, not too strong. It's good." Y/N commented, still chewing, swallowing seconds later.

"You're crazy, entirely." Chris shook his head repeatedly, taking steps away from her as if she was mad.

Matt observed her with widened eyes, surprised by her little reaction.

"Put it there." Nick pointed to the counter next to the stove where they were piling up the food they had already eaten, his face showing a disgusting look. "Next!"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"It's going to be Chris, I can feel it." Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the phone as their four index fingers pressed the screen.

The back of Matt's right shoulder was resting against her chest, while her free hand stroked his hair gently. She knew he was about to get sick, so she was trying to stay as close to him as possible.

"Oh no!" Chris shouted, bringing his right hand to his head in a sign of desperation after seeing the result.

"Yes!" Matt celebrated, turning around and hugging Y/N, jumping up and down in place. His sudden movements made her lose her balance, taking them both to the ground.

Y/N had her mouth open and eyes closed as laughter escaped her lips at her boyfriend's euphoria. She couldn't believe his happiness just because he wasn't chosen to eat the yogurt.

Matt screamed in celebration, hugging Y/N tightly. Nick told him to lower his voice due to the hour, but he was completely ignored.

"He is crazy." Chris commented, pointing to the two on the floor as he shook his head, letting out a laugh, momentarily forgetting what he had to eat.

Nick took the camera off the tripod, focusing the lens on the couple, capturing the perfect image of Y/N with her back against the cold floor and Matt with half his body over hers, his arms encircling her torso and his head buried in the curve of her neck, sounds of laughter echoing from there.

Fans would go crazy over that.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"No!" Matt screamed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had been chosen to eat the red pepper.

Y/N winced, her eyes going from her boyfriend to the pepper and back again. Before she could say anything encouraging, Matt picked up the food and bit off half of it.

"Matt! Are you crazy? This is very spicy. Spit it in the trash! Don't swallow it." Y/N yelled, her eyes wide. She put her hands on Matt's shoulders, guiding him to the trash can.

"Spit it out, Matt." Chris repeated, recording his brother's steps with the camera.

Y/N pressed the pedal to the trash can, opening the lid and patting her boyfriend's shoulder as he spat. She bit her lower lip in worry as she noticed his face start to turn red, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, baby. Breathe." She asked calmly, guiding him to the front of the table again, her hands resting on his waist, squeezing the covered skin lightly.

"Oh my God, it's so hot." Matt agonized, fanning his face with his right hand. "My lips-"

Chris and Nick laughed at his reaction, taking their fingers to the phone again, wanting to end the video quickly.

"Come on, guys!" Nick called, pushing Y/N's hips with his own - since she was closer to him -, getting her attention.

The girl took Matt's right hand and guided it to the phone, placing him index finger on the screen and then her own, keeping her eyes fixed on her boyfriend's face. Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead as his cheeks burned red, and Y/N was ready to get him out of there if necessary.

Chris was chosen next to eat the jelly, and Matt took advantage of the situation to walk around a little, wanting to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.

Y/N quickly followed him, helping him drink the water that was still in his hands, despite knowing it wouldn't help much.

"Do you want some milk, my love?" She asked quietly so the camera wouldn't catch it. Matt shook his head, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of adding milk to the horrendous mix of all the things he had eaten.

The boy seemed disoriented, his head hurt, and his tongue burned. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulling the door open and opening his mouth, momentarily exhaling in the cold air, before closing it again.

"Come, love." Y/N pulled him closer to the phone again, intertwining their free hands and squeezing his fingers with her own lightly.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, approaching and touching Matt's shoulder. His words sounded worried, even though he was still laughing.

Matt nodded as he drew in puffs of air through his open mouth, a multi-layered piece of colby-jack cheese pressed to his right cheek. Y/N watched him from the side, feeling helpless.

"It's not helping." He shouted, leaning on Nick momentarily and blinking his eyes repeatedly, watching Y/N eat the second to last content.

His heart raced when it was the app's turn to choose who would eat the last item, the raw egg.

"If Matt's chosen, I'll eat for him." Y/N quickly imposed, pressing her finger on the screen and staring intently at it.

"This is not how it works." Chris muttered, bumping his shoulder against hers playfully.

"Fuck the rules." She shrugged, sighing in relief when she saw the app choose Nick.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Matt, what was the worst that you ate?" Chris asked, bringing the camera closer to Matt, who was opening the fridge.

The boy ignored him, leaning forward slightly and bringing his mouth under the water filter, taking long sips. Y/N let out a low laugh as she saw Chris frown at not receiving any response, rubbing her boyfriend's back softly.

Matt closed the fridge doors, taking some steps back and resting his arms on the table as he took a deep breath, feeling all the food rise up his throat. He swallowed hard, straightning up and looking at Chris behind the camera, his own eyes filling with tears.

"I'm going to bed." His voice was broken. He turned and walked quickly to his shared room with Y/N, receiving a light slap on the back from Nick.

"Okay, he's going to bed."

Y/N let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head. She quickly walked to the cupboard next to the stove, taking a glass. She opened the fridge, taking a bottle of ice cold water and pouring some milk into the glass, closing the door with her hip.

"I'll take care of him." She told the boys, blowing an air kiss to the lens before walking to their bedroom, balancing the items in her hands, Nick and Chris' voices speaking with the camera falling behind.

The girl turned the door handle with her elbow, slowly entering the room and closing it again behind her back.

Her eyes traveled around momentarily, the lights were off, making it difficult to see anything. She squinted her eyes and quickly found her boy laying on the bed in a fetal position, approaching him in slow steps.

Y/N placed the milk and water on the bedside table and squatted down, resting her arms on the mattress. She brought her right hand to Matt's hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of his eyes. Her fingers caressing his warm skin.

"Honey? What are you feeling?" She asked in a low tone, not wanting to heighten her boyfriend's senses. Her heart sank at the way Matt seemed to be in discomfort, his eyes were closed tightly and his brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense.

"Stomach pain. My tongue is still burning and I'm hot on the insides and cold on the outside." The boy explained, his voice sounding weak followed by him sniffling.

"Come here, baby. Let me help you." Y/N asked gently, standing up from her crouched position and helping Matt sit up slowly.

Her hands grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt that covered his torso, pulling it up slowly, helping him take it off his arms and head, placing it aside on the mattress to fold later.

Y/N quickly grabbed the air conditioning remote that was next to the items she brought, turning it on and setting it to 18°C. Not so cold, but refreshing.

She put the remote back in place and picked up the milk, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising the glass so Matt could see what it was, receiving a whine in response.

"I know it might seem gross to drink milk after everything you've eaten, but it will help lessen the burn from the pepper, baby." Y/N spoke calmly, bringing the glass closer to Matt's face. "You ate a large amount. If we don't alleviate it now, this burning sensation will continue for several hours, sweetheart."

The boy sighed before wrapping both of his hands around Y/N's, who was still holding the glass for fear of Matt dropping it since his hands were shaking. He took it to his lips and closed his eyes tightly, tilting the glass and taking a small sip.

Y/N encouraged him with small whispers, pushing his hair back with her free hand, freeing his forehead from the heat of his strands.

Matt put the glass down after a few sips, pushing it closer to her, showing that he didn't want any more. He removed his hands from around Y/N's, allowing her to put it down.

The girl placed it on the bedside table again, watching her boyfriend's reactions.

"Do you think you're going to throw up? Or are you okay, and it's just the burning?"

"No, I'm not going to throw up, I just want to sleep." The boy responded weakly, lowering his torso onto the bed again, feeling the duvet pressing against his back. He turned onto his side, pressing his right hand to his exposed stomach. "Come lie down with me, please."

"I will, my love. Just let me take this glass to the kitchen, and I'll be right back." Her tone was low.

She leaned her body over his, sealing his cold forehead with her warm lips for a few seconds before pulling away and rising from the bed. She took the glass again, pushing the water bottle closer to the bed before taking steps towards the exit.

"I love you." She heard Matt whisper before closing the door behind her. A huge smile decorated her face as she felt her heart race.

She would do anything to make him feel better and Matt knew that.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"I seriously thought Matt would throw up everything 😭"

"omg Matt is CRAZY for eating half of a red pepper without a second thought 🤡"

"Y/N worrying about Matt is so cute 🥺"

"the way Y/N kept looking at Matt all the time, making sure he was okay 😔 I love them so much"

"Matt almost dying, Y/N worried sick and Chris and Nick laughing until their next generation was the best thing I saw today"

"Matt and Y/N on the floor laughing their asses off is my new romain empire 🧎‍♀️"

"Matt saying 'I'm going to bed' after a traumatic experience is totally me for real"

"can we take a minute to appreciate Y/N eating the yellow pepper like it was chocolate? WHAT A WOMAN GUYS!!!! 🤤"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

1K notes · View notes

sunsents · 1 year

Text

neteyam sully - beautiful boy

This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I'm on my period and very emotional.

➵ summary: Neteyam's beauty renders you speechless, you can't help but gawk at him.

➵ pairing: neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ word count: 990

➵ warnings: pure, teeth rotting fluff. it's so sweet that even I was embarrassed while writing it. reader is literally just pining after him like an idiot and doing nothing else. reader is a simp.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

"Will you stop it?"

"But you're just so pretty,"

Sat snugly on Neteyam's lap, you're tracing his facial features with a gentle finger. Your mate, frustrated and flushed - a combo you've come to adore after years of knowing him - keeps swatting at your hand and grumbling lowly.

You can't help it though, he's just so pretty. The type of pretty you stare at for hours without getting enough of it, no matter how much you trace and retrace his facial features with wandering eyes. The type of pretty that has you questioning how, or rather who allowed him to be this beautiful. The inquiries are daily and, nonstop - Eywa's likely fed up with you bending your neck at the sky and letting out a muffled scream of misery.

Because Neteyam was a hurting kind of pretty - like he was incapable of making a facial expression that made him look even a tinge bit ugly, and this hurt your chest. Squeezed your heart until it shriveled and let out a pent, 'Enough, no more'. Worst of it all, you were free to touch. Free to look, free to fondle, and free to love. He was your mate, after all.

This thought brought you immense joy every waking hour of the day.

So, he should cut you some slack. You were allowed to trace his facial features, because he looks like that, and he needs to be marveled at and cooed at.

"I'm not pretty," he grumbles and squeezes your side in an effort to make you stop. It's useless, you're going nowhere. This is where you'll be spending the rest of your years, growing old and all that. Right between his arms. "I'm handsome and mighty!"

"Sure, you're all those. But you're also," you lean close to his ear, "pretty..."

Neteyam grumbles all the same but stays still when you return to tracing his romanesque nose. His eyes are closed and you can't help but stare at his lashes - dark and long, kissing his cheeks. "I can never say no to you, can I?"

You smile, deciding to stay silent. You both know the answer, Neteyam would jump into a fire if you asked nicely.

So, with this in mind, you give him the softest kisses - peppering them on his smooth cheeks tenderly. His face is truly gorgeous and right in front of you; you can't help but kiss his lips. It's tame but drawn out, a press of lips as Neteyam stays completely still. (Which is a struggle for him since your mate always has to be doing something useful with himself.) You feel him smile against your lips, and a big, warm hand closes around your nape. His beautiful lashes - the ones you were admiring just moments ago - flutter against your cheek.

Neteyam likes to look. Not as much as you, but he had the strange habit of opening his eyes mid-kiss. You don't know how this action became a habit of his, but you're sure it was between the periods of I want to hold your hand longer, and I think I'm in love with you. It would have been weird if you opened your eyes as well, but your heart never allowed you to. It's surprising you even noticed him doing this since you melt into pudgy goo whenever his lips touch you. So curse Neteyam's long and perfect eyelashes, it's hard not to notice them when they flutter softly against your cheek and tickle your heart.

You pull away to which he whines, then continue your tracing. The tip of your pointer finger lingers on the curve of his lips - another feature you absolutely adore. His lip twitches and your finger moves to his bottom lip, pulling it down to watch it bounce back. The scene drives you crazy - causes your mind to reel.

His lips are plush and soft, and his skin is oh-so pliant under your body. Your hand cups the sides of his face, massaging his temples. Neteyam hums and wraps his tail around your waist possessively. "Feels good," his eyes flutter shut again, letting you knead at his face. You try to be as gentle as possible, yet determined to make full use of this moment your mate has allowed you.

You feel the need to knead and smooth over every inch of his body so somehow - hopefully - the ache to just settle into his entire being and live there for the rest of your life is soothed. And the ache scares you.

The intensity of your love scares you because sometimes you feel like you cannot breathe. Neteyam has that effect on you - stealing your breath away with a kind smile and not even being apologetic about it. He's not even aware of his effect on you, and you think that only makes him more guilty.

Punishing him is fun though - peppering kisses all over his face so he's unable to catch his breath as well, serves him right. You don't stop your kissing, out of breath and flushed.

"Stop!" Neteyam laughs breathily, trying to push you away. He catches your face between his palms and harshly kisses your lips. Like a kiss a young child would share with a crush, only to run away, giggling, because ewww.

You scrunch your nose, mumbling protests against his mouth. "You stop!"

He pulls away with a grin - and, oh Eywa. You're truly done for.

"I love you, so much. I could stay here all day, even if people come looking for us. Even if Eywa wills it herself for us to separate. I'm never letting you go, my love." he casually hums as he wraps his arms around you again, pressing you into his chest. So casual that you're baffled, looking up at him through your eyelashes with your lips parted. You feel your heart melting, sliding off from your parted lips and into his palms, snugly finding a new home in his hold.

#neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam #avatar twow #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar au #avatar 2009 #fluff #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x you

1K notes · View notes

savannahsdeath · 7 months

Note

ok imagine reader just got to jackson and is super confident and basically tells everyone what to do all the time. like people always listen to her bc she’s lowkey scary. ellie’s a bit of a loser all the time at first but then gains confidence and tops reader. readers so shocked bc she’s used to getting what she wants shshsh

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! public sex, cocky!reader n the rest is obvious from the request🤗

writers note: this is a scrap im sorry im sick.. and im not apologizing for leaving yall on edge sorry guys🤭 also it has 1212 words??? signs

"you and jesse." you said to dina, after a long discussion about who's going to patrol today.

"why not me?" ellie scoffed. "i want to patrol too!"

"oh, sorry, els." you laughed mockingly. "maybe next time."

the appointed couple started slowly walking towards the stud, obeying you without thinking much. the girl that had to stay against her will kicked a single rock in disappointment but didn't say anything else.

"come on, we gotta sign it." you waved your hand in a 'follow me' gesture and started walking towards a public building, to which everyone had access.

it's where a lot of important meetings happen, but for now it seemed empty.

you opened a book and searched for a label with today's date before writing dina's and jesse's names down.

"now, what am i supposed to do? the town's boring." she complained as you sat on a couch, next to her.

"but it's safe." you rolled your eyes. "you'll survive a day off."

"you are, unfortunately, probably right." ellie grumbled. "so you're just going to sit here and relax while i go stir-crazy?"

"mhm. oh, and i'm always right." you nonchalantly shrugged.

she barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at you. "of course."

you looked at her and smirked. you could see how mad she was, but you knew she won't do anything about it. she wasn't the type to argue, especially not with you. she just continued fidgeting with her fingers, like she always did in your presence. you chuckled to yourself as you thought about it, enjoying her discomfort.

you leaned back in your seat and relaxed, satisfied with the view of her irritated expression. she looked like she wanted to say something, but she knew it would only fuel your ego and make her feel worse.

eventually, she turned to look at you, and her facial expression begun to betray an emotion. she was clearly not happy with how things were playing out here.

"i know you always have to get your way, but it would be nice if you actually listened to me every once in a while." she said, not raising her voice, but making it clear that she's becoming more irritated as the situation continues.

you frowned in disbelief. "excuse me?"

she looked away again, her voice turning into a whisper. "you heard me."

"excuse me?" you repeated, your tone shifting to be more firm and authoritative.

ellie looked back at you, as if in a defiant manner.

"you need to learn when to keep your mouth shut." her voice was still soft, but you could see the fire in her eyes as she stared at you unwaveringly. she was clearly not willing to back down from her position.

silence

you were to stunned to say anything.

ellie was the first one to speak, speaking rather calmly, given the circumstances. "i said what i had to say. you can go ahead and tell me to shut up now."

she remained staring at you, not blinking, not fidgeting, just staring into your eyes.

"you're funny." you smirked, not taking her comments to heart at all. "i like that."

"oh, you like that?" ellie says as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. there is a certain amount of playfulness in her voice, although the underlying tension between you two is still present. "you like that someone finally spoke up?"

"now that i think about it.." your grin widened and you stood up, walking to a nearby counter. "no, not really."

"oh, i like this game." ellie said in return, getting up off of the couch. she slowly made her way over to the same counter area where you were. her movements were steady and calculated, not showing an inkling of fear or anxiety, even though she was well aware of the fact that this was an intense situation. she was almost enjoying it. "let's see, what else can i do to get on your nerves, hmm? maybe this?" she leaned against the counter, close enough to you that you could feel her breath on your neck. there was a small part of you that was worried about where this was heading, but then, unexpectedly, she begun to speak very softly to you, close to your ear, making this part stay silent. "i can make this much worse, you know."

you can't help but feel a tinge of excitement running down your back. this was a risky move by her, and she was almost daring you to do something about it.

"i don't think there's anything worse than standing so near to you." you whispered, but didn't even try to push her away, expecting she'll back down by herself.

ellie leaned even closer, to the point where your faces were barely an inch away from each other. you felt her breath, you could see the little details on her face, everything was amplified to this degree.

she slowly whispered into your ear, so gently that it almost felt like a caress. "now, you really don't know what you're talking about."

ellie paused for a moment, but not for long. she reached her right hand out and took your left in hers. her touch felt warm and soft, but at the same time there was almost an electric tension in the air around you two.

she slowly begun to speak to you again. "why do we have to fight, huh? is this what you really want?" you felt a slight pull on your hand as she pulled you closer to her.

you sighed, knowing this wasn't in your scenario, but you had to play along. "there weren't any problems, as long as you were listening to me."

ellie's eyes betrayed a hint of irritation once again. "well, there's one problem there." she said as she continued to hold onto your hand. "you aren't always right." she leaned in even closer as she spoke. "sometimes you're just a stubborn, idiotic, bossy, and insufferable pain in the ass."

she finally pulled you all the way up to her. you could feel her breath on your face as she stared intently into your eyes. she seemed to be searching for your next move.

"and still people listen to me." you forced a smirk on your face, which probably turned out as a nervous grimace.

"you know why?" she tugged a strand of your hair behind your ear. "because you're new here. people don't know your backstory and they're scared of you. they think you're... mysterious."

you felt ellie starting to caress your face as she held you in place.

she whispered; "but right now, you're not in the control."

after she said this, she slowly started to move her hand down towards your shirt, as if to prove her point.

you frowned for a short second before mumbling a quiet; "i always am." which turned out way less convincing than you wanted it to be.

ellie's hand slowly inched beneath your shirt. she was very clearly enjoying seeing you squirm in this position.

"oh, is that so?" she said in response to your previous comment. "then why don't you stop me? you're in control, remember?"

the fact is, you could. she'd let you, too. but you didn't want to. you let her do that, and a few more things, even though you risked getting caught. that's what you needed all along.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #wlw smut #reqs open #ellie williams smut #cocky!reader #bratty!reader #bossy!reader

603 notes · View notes

morelikeravenbore · 30 days

Text

✨Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet

These are my spicy headcanons for Sebastian when he's in a loving and committed relationship (aged up to 18+, obviously.) Based on how I imagine and write him in most of my spicy oneshots (ie a needy boi 🤭)

🍭 If you're looking for something more wholesome, I also wrote a Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet.

🦋 A/N: all headcanons are valid, even if yours differ completely to mine.

A - Aftercare: what they’re like after sex.

Let me preface this by saying that Sebastian goes so hard and gives so much that afterwards, he's practically a boneless, wordless jellyfish man. So, while he makes sure you're okay, he mostly only has energy enough to pull you close and give you a little kissy on the head before he passes out.

B - Body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s.

Since Sebastian was touch-starved and denied affection for so long, his favourite body part is his hands: touching you grounds him in reality and reminds him that you're real. He likes the versatility of his hands and the way he can coax so many different reactions from you depending on how and where he touches you. His hands are strong but his fingers are dexterous and nimble, and he uses this to his full advantage, either by caressing you as gently as if you're made of eggshells, brushing your head back from your face, tracing your lips with his thumb — or by pinning your wrists firmly above your head, making you come apart with just his fingers alone or holding you so tightly against him you can't move an inch.

His favourite body part (as I mentioned in my fluff alphabet) is your face. Watching your expressions when he's pleasuring you really gets him off. Pressing your foreheads together, breathing the same breath, intense eye contact all drive him insane.

C - Cum: anything to do with cum, basically.

Sex is a practise in vulnerability for Sebastian, so coming inside you and giving you a part of himself is the ultimate form of intimacy. He gets off on the thought of you carrying some of him inside you, and loves the feeling of you milking him dry when you come together.

D - Dirty secret: pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.

He is needy. On the surface, Sebastian presents himself as this confident, charming assertive guy — and, generally speaking, he is; but when it comes to you, he's often so overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings that he can't control himself. Being intimate with you goes beyond physical desire, its how he expresses his love in the most pure and vulnerable way he knows how, trusting that when he bares his soul to you, you'll accept and cherish it every time. As a result, he's often at your mercy, begging you to hold him together while he falls apart for you.

E - Experience: how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

Before you, Sebastian had a little bit of experience, but he'd never been intimate with someone he truly loved, so your first time together really threw him off his game. However, he is incredibly observant, a fast learner and a very enthusiastic student, so he quickly learns what you like best.

F - Favorite position: this goes without saying.

Face to face. Whether it's missionary, straddling his lap, or pressed up against a wall, Sebastian craves that emotional connection as much as he does the physical. He goes crazy for eye contact during sex and loves having you moan and whimper into his mouth.

G - Goofy: are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Sex, in Sebastian's opinion, is one of the most fun experiences a person can ever partake in. Laughing, tickling or being silly together usually ends in love making. If you try a new position and it doesn't work, or he attempts talking dirty and it comes out cringe, the two of you will quickly descend into fits of giggles. You have definitely laughed him out of you on several occasions.

H - Hair: how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Quite honestly, Sebastian likes the way he looks naked, and takes pride in his body, so he'd keep things neat and tidy but without going overboard. Natural, but groomed.

I - Intimacy: how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Though he's not a "typically" romantic person, Sebastian loves you more than anything or anyone in the world and expresses this most openly in the way he holds you close, kisses you, watches in awe when you fall apart for him. When words fail him, he lets his body speak — and boy does it speak.

J - Jack off: masturbation headcanon.

This boys sex drive is off the freakin charts, lol. He wakes up most mornings with an erection, and if he can't be with you, he's imagining being with you (and this happens a lot, usually at very inconvenient times). He is rather progressive when it comes to sexual health, especially for the time he's living in; having read a lot of anatomy and sexual health books (nicked from the Restricted Section, of course), he doesn't feel any shame about his sexuality, and in fact believes that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy. In fact, if he tries to deny his urges, he finds he is less productive, more prone to frustrated outbursts, and has difficulty focusing on tasks.

K - kink: one or more of their kinks.

Praise. Sebastian loves to be told he's doing a good job. Calling him a good boy will basically short circuit his brain, but it doesn't matter whether the praise comes verbally or in the form of a mind-shattering orgasm; as long as he knows he's doing a good job, he's a very happy boy.

L - Location: favorite places to do the do.

Honestly, anywhere. He is obsessed with you, and when he needs you — he needs you. As long as he can get you away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M - Motivation: what turns them on, gets them going?

Let's face it, it doesn't take much to get Sebastian going — just the thought of you alone is enough to turn him on — but he does especially like it when you're feeling passionate about something, whether you're fervidly telling him off for something, and your face is all cute and red from anger, or if you're rambling about something you absolutely love, or excited about something you've achieved, that spark is something that never fails to drive him crazy with lust.

N - No: something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.

While Sebastian is certainly an intense lover, he doesn't like pain-play or restriction (hands, airways, etc, either his or yours). Anything that makes him feel like he has no control over the situation tends to trigger his trauma responses and leads to anxiety. Given all this past traumas, he only wants to bring pleasure, and can't handle the thought of causing more pain or discomfort to someone he loves.

O - Oral: preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Since he's so obsessed with your face, Sebastian looooves when you give him head and he can watch how pretty you look when you're on your knees for him. Making direct eye contact will drive him absolutely feral.

In return, he loves using his mouth on you —particularly when you're already overstimulated. and he uses his tongue to slowly coax out another shuddering orgasm.

P - Pace: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

He likes to think he can take it slow, and usually he starts off with slow and sensual intentions: face kisses, lingering touches, long looks — but he loses himself in you so quickly that before long, he's just a sweaty, groaning sex machine. Hes got stamina though, so even when he's going hard, he's in for the long haul.

Q - Quickie: their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Though he prefers longer sessions where he can take his time with you, he's not exactly known for his patience, and if he's feeling needy enough, he will definitely take the opportunity to take you quickly.

R - Risk: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

As mentioned, anything that borders on painful or restrictive is a hard no for him; he just can't take pleasure from "hurting" you, even if its only for play. He does, however, love experimenting with different positions, relishing in all the ways he can use his body to make you come. Being so hungry for knowledge, he reads a lot of sexy books and loves to test

S - Stamina: how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Sebastian isn't satisfied until you've come at least twice, but will always strive for three or four rounds. He loves sex, he loves having sex with you, and he feels an incredible sense of pride and accomplishment when he makes you feel good. So much so, that he tends to get carried away, and sometimes you have to settle him down so you can recover.

T - Toys: do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Anything an object can do, Sebastian can do better. Or at least, that's his motto, and he'll live and die by it. He won't deny you if you want to experiment with toys, but he'd prefer to rely on his own faculties to bring you pleasure.

U - Unfair: how much they like to tease.

Leading up to it, Sebastian will tease you and flirt with you like an absolute fiend, whispering dirty things into your ear or teasing your inner thighs under a table, but as soon as you're touching him, he loses all resolve. He's putty in your hands; he simply can't resist you or hold himself back. Tease you all he wants, but orgasm denial is not a term he understands when he finally has you.

V - Volume: how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Sebastian's the type to moan in your ear, or whimper into the crook of your neck, or plead desperately into your mouth. He's vocal, but he's quiet about it (and usually incomprehensible).

W - Wild card: a random headcanon for the character.

Sebastian doesn't drink. Given his infatuation with the dark arts, his obsessive tendencies and the impulsivity that lead to the death of his uncle, he avoids anything that will comprise the full control of his mind and body.

X - X-ray: let's see what’s going on under those clothes.

He's freckled all over, tall (somewhere around 6ft), lean but lightly muscular. He's got nice broad shoulders, lovely upright posture, and toned forearms with all those yummy veins. He's not particularly long, but he's thick.

Y - Yearning: how high is their sex drive?

If it were physically possible, he'd probably never stop, especially when it's with you — the person he loves with his entire being.

Z - Zzz: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards.

Immediately, lol. Sometimes while he's still on top of you, depending on the intensity and duration of the session, but he always looks so blissed out and happy that you don't mind.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow spicy headcanon #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy sebastian

257 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Crazy Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic fem!reader x Ellie Williams)

Summary: Ellie has a nightmare and you and Joel help calm her down [1.3k]

Author’s note: Apparently I’ve been on my tlou found family trope kick recently

Warnings: mentions of David, nightmares, a panic attack, I can’t think of anything else!

Ellie's screams rattle you from an already light sleep and shake the house. You and Joel are out of bed and sprinting to her room before you can even think about it. She's sitting up in bed when you open her door, gasps wrenching from her throat as she struggles to breathe, and she's in your arms not even a moment later. "You're home. You're okay," you tell her as you pull her close. She curls her head into your chest and sobs loudly. "We're right here with you, baby." Joel pulls the chair from her desk to sit across from you, an ever-present but silent figure.

This is the third time this week she's woken up screaming. Each time, it sounds like thunder splitting the sky in half. It reminds you of every terrible moment that unfolded over the year it took to get to Jackson. Your heart aches, and tears fill your eyes as you rub her back and remind her that she's safe, that you and Joel would never let anything happen to her, and that you love her. Joel rests a gentle hand on your knee when he sees your tears, and you nod at him over Ellie's head. It's hard for both of you to see her like this and know there's nothing you can do to shield her from her own mind.

She tells you bits and pieces of her nightmare in between cries. You're able to put together the words David, fire, blood, and know what she dreamt of. "Oh, sweet girl," you murmur as you push her hair out of her face and kiss her head. You hold her to your chest, tucking her under your chin, and hum an old song quietly. Joel reaches out and rubs soothing circles into her back. After a few minutes, her sobs die down to soft sniffles, and her breathing returns to normal.

"You okay, kiddo?" Joel asks quietly. She nods against you and pulls away enough to look at him. Her face is red and splotchy, and her eyes are swollen.

"Just felt so real," she says. You tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and she takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"You have no reason to apologize," Joel says in that firm, loving tone reserved for Ellie. "We get them, too."

"Yeah, but you don't wake everyone up when you do,"

"That's not true. We've probably woken each other up hundreds of times over the years." You tell her, glancing at Joel, who's nodding in agreement. Ellie looks between us and relaxes a little bit.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Does it get better?" She asks. "Like, do they go away?"

"I don't know if they'll ever go away, but it gets more manageable. They become less real. Sometimes, we'll still wake up cryin' and screamin', but we can't remember why. We just know it was a nightmare, and we talk about it and go back to sleep." He explains, his southern twang peeking through his words as he gets sleepier.

"Does talking about it help?"

"Sometimes. The great thing about us three is that we went through all of that shit together, so we trust each other. We understand each other. Joel knows that cars make me nervous because of what happened in Kansas City, and I know that Joel's right hand is a little weaker than his left because it didn't heal right after we left Boston," You say. Joel makes a mock, offended face, and Ellie smiles. You swear, his eyes twinkle in the low light of her room when she does. "And I know that you are an incredibly capable girl who saw a lot of things you shouldn't have. You're still learning how to live with these things, and that's okay because we're here for you. We'll always be right down the hall."

"Even if I have shitty table manners?" She asks at the end of your emotional, vulnerable speech, and Joel laughs. She gets that from him, you think. The sass in her question and the smirk pulling at her lips have Joel written all over them. They may not share any DNA, but that girl is a Miller through and through.

"Even if you have shitty table manners." He confirms.

"Even if I tell you puns all day?"

"Yes, that too."

"What about-"

"When you go to school tomorrow, ask your smartass teacher what the word 'unconditional' means, alright? Tell her you need a vocabulary quiz or somethin'." He says, and you laugh along with Ellie. Her face lights up, and the weight drops from her shoulders. You may not know what tomorrow will bring, but this, right now, is enough. You kiss Ellie's head again, the love you feel for her pouring out of you, and she lets you before rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

"Tired?" You ask, and she nods. "Do you want us to stay with you until you fall asleep?"

"I think I'll be okay," she says, untangling from you and tucking herself under the covers. You and Joel stand, tell her goodnight and remind her you're not far. Right before you can close her bedroom door, she sits back up. "Could you... maybe leave it open? Just a little bit."

"Anything for you, kiddo." She smiles at your answer before finally laying back down and closing her eyes. When you turn to walk back to your bedroom, Joel cups your jaw and kisses you. Your hands rest on his chest as his smell surrounds you—something sweet and smoky and so inherently him. He kisses you slowly and deeply, stealing the air from your lungs. When you pull away, he chases your lips and kisses you once, twice, three times before looking at you. His eyes are warm and heavy with fatigue and something more. "What was that for?" You whisper, careful not to wake Ellie.

"Takin' care of her," he says. "Takin' care of us. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you." You smile and kiss him again.

"You're getting soft on me, cowboy." You murmur against him, and he huffs a laugh.

"Now, you keep that one to yourself. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"You mean the residents of Jackson don't know that mean old Joel Miller is secretly a huge softy for his family? I'm shocked."

"You like mean old Joel Miller."

"I love mean old Joel Miller," you say, and he smiles, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Let's go back to bed before we have to get up for patrol."

"Yes, ma'am," he says as you untangle from each other, but he stays close, keeping a hand on your lower back as you walk to your bedroom. Together, you pick the blankets off the floor and reset the bed. When you crawl back into bed, his arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you to his chest. It's easy to get sleepy with the human furnace holding you.

"Were you humming Van Morrison to her?" He asks right before you can fully fall back to sleep. You have to laugh because the idea of him wracking his brain for the familiar tune through all of that is hilarious. You also have about five hours until patrol, and he's still awake, asking you about the song you were humming.

"I can't believe it took you that long to recognize it. Maybe you are losing it." You turn to look at him, and he rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one asking about Van Morrison." He doesn't fight you on getting the last word in. Instead, he kisses the back of your neck and squeezes you a little tighter. You fall asleep listening to big, scary Joel Miller humming Crazy Love into your skin like a gospel. After all these years, you have to think that maybe Van Morrison got that one right. Maybe love is enough to make us whole again.

TUMBLR STOP DELETING MY LAST PARAGRAPH

#tlou fic #ellie williams #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller drabble #the last of us #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #joel miller the last of us #tlou part 1 #joel miller fluff #tlou fluff

2K notes · View notes

phyrestartr · 6 months

Text

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up?

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do."

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–"

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago.

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it 12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st 9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone 12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it 12:32am i need you 1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while 7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–"

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up."

He called you again.

And this time, you answered.

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?"

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared.

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?"

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first."

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity.

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone.

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head.

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly.

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised."

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything?

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus.

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect.

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh.

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today."

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?"

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker."

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!"

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo."

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son.

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice.

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York.

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well.

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood.

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display.

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know."

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy."

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over.

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.”

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.”

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.”

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.”

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.”

“Eh. I would.”

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him.

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way.

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art.

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though.

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him.

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.”

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face.

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either.

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks.

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.”

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place.

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained.

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–”

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed.

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah.

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself.

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right.

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.”

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.”

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.”

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open.

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch.

One minute passed.

Then two minutes.

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?”

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness.

Click.

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity.

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.”

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her.

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out.

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–”

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed.

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears.

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?”

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore."

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone."

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband.

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise."

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug.

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet.

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?"

"Eh. Sometimes."

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?"

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?"

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be.

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now.

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–"

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?"

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?"

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered.

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one."

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?"

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did."

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered."

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep.

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow."

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot."

"No truck?"

"None."

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck."

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked.

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark.

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–"

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth.

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out.

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture.

But you came home early.

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason.

Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you?

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you.

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly.

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded.

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered.

Something. Anything.

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together.

"How long?" You managed.

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?"

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?"

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep."

"Wait–"

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped.

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared.

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–"

"Miguel–"

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me."

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms.

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight, and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding.

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

And he believed you.

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning.

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi.

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store.

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms.

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?"

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too.

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong.

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?"

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess."

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara."

"Yeah, I thought so, too."

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after.

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh.

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never."

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him.

“Then come back with us.”

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.”

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know.

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him.

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–"

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise.

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle.

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart.

"I never did," he confessed.

"Then why did you say it?"

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it."

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'"

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly.

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again."

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–"

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years.

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up.

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?”

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel.

“Oh,” she whispered.

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do."

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep.

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd 3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.”

"Miggs, don't say that. I–"

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own.

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–"

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo."

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him.

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us."

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too.

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease.

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too.

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep.

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area.

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted.

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh.

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room."

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home.

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here."

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash."

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun."

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?"

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower."

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy.

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing."

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories.

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone.

But then, he spied a locked folder.

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed.

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities.

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away.

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again.

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better.

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–"

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me."

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him.

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places.

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background.

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back.

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo."

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect."

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good."

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me."

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back."

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?"

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this–fuck. He was in trouble.

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little."

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss.

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself.

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight.

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?"

"No."

You chuckled. "Okay."

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me."

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.”

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said.

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--”

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease.

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

183 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 1 month

Text

Evil Woman Sees (Big) Red Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Remember in I Touched Banana Bubblicious For You, when Evil Woman had to get gum out of Eddie's hair? Again? Well… what if she found the person responsible? Contains: A rage blackout, emotions, tears, violence, protecting Eddie Munson at all costs, consequences that are totally worth it. Words: 1k

No male teacher has ever denied a bathroom pass to a female student after she says two magic words: "Lady Problems."

You'd used this bit of witchcraft on Mr. Williams a few minutes ago, and decided to use your untimed break to check on a certain crazy-haired metalhead who meant the world to you.

You leaned against the lockers across the hall from Eddie's classroom and angled yourself so you could see him through the thin pane of glass in the door. He'd been stressing about this test all week, but by the look of him, he was doing just fine. He was so focused, he didn't even notice you were there. He was fully in the zone; eyes darting from test to scantron sheet with purpose, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he filled in the bubbles with the freshly sharpened #2 pencil you'd presented him with this morning. You know he's got this one.

A movement behind him catches your eye. It's Kimmy Little, reaching across the aisle to pass a note. One of those girls who had everything: popularity, good grades, new car, the body and style every magazine told teenage girls they should aspire to. She's practically perfect in every way. And she makes you sick.

No, not a note. A piece of gum. How thrilling. She unwraps it and pops it in her glossy little mouth and chews with her whole jaw. Like a cow chewing her cud. Wonder what Tiger Beat would say about this?

Your focus returns to Eddie. Looks like he's done and double-checking his work. He hadn't cared enough to do that last year. Or the year before. You smile, knowing he's really trying this time, because he wants to graduate with you. He gathers his papers to take them to the teacher's desk, and you see Kimmy lean forward and extract a wad of red gum from her mouth. When Eddie gets up, she makes her move.

That's how they're doing it. They wait until he moves so he doesn't notice the sudden weight of the gum they've planted in his hair.

She and the girl next to her shake with silent giggles as Eddie walks to the front of the classroom to turn his test in.

With gum in his fucking hair.

* ** *** **** ***** **** *** ** * ** *** **** ***** **** ** * ** *** **** ***** **** ** *

"HEY!"

A yell. Muffled. Ears ringing.

Something squeezing you. Arms?

The arms are dragging you backward.

Instinct tells you to fight it.

You twist. Kick. Boots leave black streaks on the white classroom floor. Your gaze follows the streaks until they turn into… is that blood?

You stop struggling.

Kimmy Little is curled into the fetal position on the floor. Her arms shield her face. Blood speckles the tile around her head and the white sleeves of her otherwise spotless sweater.

The arms aren't dragging you anymore. They push you forward. Help you stand. You're wobbly. Is there something wrong with your legs? You look down to check, and see red on your knuckles.

Oh, fuck.

All of the noise comes rushing at you at once. People are yelling. Kimmy is screaming. You look around the room. The desks near Kimmy are vacant; there's a huddle of students who'd vacated them in the back. People on the far side of the room are standing on chairs and desks for a better view. You try to turn, and the arms holding you give you enough slack to move, but not to be free.

You turn and stare into Eddie's wide eyes.

You feel the adrenaline drain from your body, and suddenly find it hard to breathe.

"OUT! NOW!" Eddie's teacher screams. She points to the door with her classroom phone. Probably calling for help. The cord bounces on the desk.

Eddie drags you from the room without a word. You stumble, but don't fight him. He pulls you into the bathroom around the corner and spins you around to face him.

His hands hold your shoulders. You stare at the Hellfire logo on his shirt and try to focus on breathing. Why is it so hard? Eddie's hands cup your face and lift your chin so you have to look at him.

"What the fuck just happened?" he asks. And then you remember.

A sob escapes from your throat, and he pulls you close. You wrap your arms around him and cry into his shirt. What have you done?

Eddie holds you and absentmindedly rubs your back for a while, until you're able to choke out: "It's not fair."

"What's not fair?"

"The way people fucking treat you."

"What do you mean?" he mumbles against your temple.

You look up through teary eyes and reach for his hair. You pull the matted pile containing gum outward and nod toward the mirror. He glances toward his reflection, and then back to you.

"You tried to kill a girl for putting gum in my hair?"

"I wasn't trying to kill her," you whisper. "Just wanted to smack her around a little… I think?"

Eddie snorts, and pulls you back into his chest.

"It's not fair," you repeat.

"I'm used to it," he says quietly, hands drifting up and down your back. You melt into him and sniffle.

"You shouldn't have to be."

He kisses the top of your head. He may have accepted his fate as the freak everyone loves to hate, but that doesn't mean you're done fighting for him.

"Bet those bitches'll think twice about sticking gum in your hair again," you mumble into his chest. Eddie chuckles, and you hold him tighter.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you, too."

You look up at him and wonder how anyone could be so cruel to someone like Eddie Munson. Why are you the only person who can see how amazing he is?

"YOU TWO."

You whirl around and see Principal Higgins standing in the doorway of the bathroom. You fight the urge to shrink into Eddie's side.

"My office. Now."

You scored a 5-day vacation and 2 weeks of detention.

But you never had to extract gum from Eddie Munson's hair ever again.

(Well, aside from the time he laughed so hard, he spat his own gum into his hair. He's so talented. Dreamy sigh.)

#writings of despair #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x evil woman

72 notes · View notes

hyperfreaksating · 7 months

Text

NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN - Interlude

Heyyyy everyone ! Two updates in a day, I'm on fire. (ง'̀-'́)ง

Note : This is just a soft interlude happening between Part IV & Part V ! Not big things, just fluff & a slice of the life you're sharing with Buggy in the circus.

No trap, no angst (I promise). Just silly things ! (✿´‿`)

Part V is fully written and it's a BIIIIIG part, it may come out tomorrow, I'm a bit scared ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

Hope you'll like this lil thing !

Tag : FemReader x Buggy, no use of Y/n, no description except for hair color.

Content warning : silent treatment used against Bugs

[ FANFICTION MASTERPOST ]

You joined Buggy’s boat for a few months, and you don’t regret it. Even if the two of you are emotional messes with shitty personalities and big egos, even if you often miss your former crew, the straw hats. The days pass, punctuated by strong (and very stupid) arguing, passionate encounters in every dark corner of the boat, and the craziness of the circus.

It’s only the beginning of your journey, but before going further, let’s talk about your life on the ship.

SILENT TREATMENT.

Every morning Buggy wakes you up with a hot brew of your favorite drink, before kissing you on the forehead. He's surprisingly good at being a boyfriend.

However, this morning he must have started the day badly leg because he is really unpleasant to be around, to say politely.

When you wake up he is doing his signature makeup, grumbling.

"Everything's ok Bugs ?' 'mmm.. AH YOU MADE ME MISS MY LINE, FUCK YOU" he screams before leaving the room without even looking at you.

Fine. Someone just earned a day of silent treatment.

Yes this is toxic but you're dating Buggy the clown soooo who is surprised?

He's too self absorbed to notice you're silent treating him at first.

Start noticing him on a very random subject. "Did anyone see my daggers ? - They're in our room Reddie - Nobody ? Fine I'll borrow yours then Cabaji."

He starts to freak out about it, trying everything he can to get your attention but since you're very fierce yourself, it kind of turns in an ego battle.

He ends up putting in place a great show just for you, including Richie carrying his detached head in his mouth and jumping in a ring of fires to place it at your feet where he grins, saying "tadaaaam", his floating hands theatrically gesturing in the air.

Seeing you applauding and cheering he thinks you finally notice him

But you run to Richie and scratch his ears "that was amazing Richie ! Good boy !"

Bugs runs into your private quarters after yelling insanities to both you and Richie and lock the door behind him

You knock at the door. "Come on Bugs I'm sorry I was just teasing you"

Finally let you enter and you have to comfort him, telling him his show was great and no you don't prefer Richie to him.

SHANKS

After a few months he finally trusts you enough to talk about the Shanks topic.

The tattoo on his shoulder was a common tattoo with shanks they made in a bar when they were teenagers. Shanks has a red ball at the same spot, looking like Buggy's nose, alongside with a pink benny hat like the one Bugs used to wear back in time.

After Shanks left him behind, he grabbed a tattoo machine and started scratching his shoulder himself to erase it.

You listen carefully, suddenly conscious of the damages you did leaving him twice.

He ends the night sobbing, arms around your hips.

"You'll never leave me again Reddie, hu ? - No. - promised ? - promised."

In the middle of the night you wake up.

He's talking to you with a very soft voice. It’s almost scary how soft he is.

".. so lucky to have you, I love you so much, you're my biggest treasure, I could do everything with you by my side, please never leave me again"

"mmmmm love you too Bugs"

He screams, he was really sure you were asleep

"NO THAT'S FALSE I DON'T LOVE YOU YOU DON'T HAVE ANY PROOF"

Sends you a pillow on the face and dramatically fall on the floor.

You gently pull him back to the bed, and caress his hairs "Fine Bugs, I don't-love-you too."

THE NEW ZORO

You miss your former crew sometimes, especially Zoro, who were kind of your bro there.

One day, you have to work with Cabaji for a dagger throwing sideshow.

He's not very talkative, has partially green hair and deadpan a lot.

"Do you like drinking? - Well, like everyone in this crew, wh... - FINE you will be my new Zoro :D"

He doesn't really understand why but you apparently decided he was your new BFF … ?

Not as good as Zoro for punchlines, tho :(

"Wait, this guy Zoro killed my brother!"

He understands why Buggy loves you. Not that he thinks you're lovable, but you fit him very well.

Actually you kinda look like your captain / lover at some points.

"Oh no there are two of them…"

AHHHH I ACCIDENTALY PUBLISHED THIS AS IT WAS UNFINISHED I hope nobody saw it ಥ_ಥ See you soon for part V !

#buggy the clown #buggy simp #captain buggy #buggy live action #buggy one piece #buggy x female reader #buggy x you #op buggy #buggy #buggy fanfiction

76 notes · View notes

armpirate · 7 months

Text

Soundleasure || San

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.8k

Aprox. time of reading: 21 minutes

Warnings: Smut, online sex, male masturbation, female masturbation, teasing, dirty talk, mention of porn. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: Ready to give up on blind dates and dating apps, you were drawned back to the safe place that was his porn channel. Attracted by a voice and his storytelling, and completely clouded by the amount of emotions, you found yourself sending him a private message. He wouldn't read it, and even less answer it, anyway. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

You dropped your keys over the dark green sideboard, placed at the left of the entrance to your place, instead of hanging them on the golden hooks that you bothered to hang to avoid dropping your keys over the first place you found. After losing them almost three times -or, atleast, having the illusion that you lost them because it took you almost an hour to find them in the last corner you'd expect in your place-, you thought it'd be a good idea to place a keyholder so you'd be able to hang the keys in a place proper for them.

Today just wasn't the day to use it. You just wanted to disappear somewhere in between your beed and your blankets, and totally erase what happened that day.

Maybe you had been looking forward to that date a little bit too much. Having high expectations of someone you met on a dating app was a bad start, and could only mean that you wouldn't be ready to have those same expectations dashing against the ground at the minimum inconvenience.

Was it minimum though? You always tried to think that maybe you were a bit too demanding when it came to hookups and relationships, always blaming your previous thoughts and ideas instead of accepting the fact that men, in general, were meant to disappoint you no matter what. You'd see it every day on the different dating apps you had installed, thinking that it'd be easier to find someone than just getting out there and hoping Love to find you. Although, lately you weren't even about love. You were ready to settle for a simple dude that'd get his work done with you, and wait for things to go further as a hopeful thought.

That was definitely too much to ask for.

You met Jordan when you were close to deleting your profile. It was the ninetieth dating app you were going to give up on, until you found a cute tanned guy with green eyes that seemed acceptable when he reached out to you after you matched. The conversation was so fluid after two days, that you didn't hesitate to arrange something with him for the weekend.

It was all nice and comfortable until he started to talk about his past relationships. "I don't usually do dating apps", "I'm not a player", "My ex's were all crazy", and a long etcetera that only had you nodding, while you tried your best to concentrate on your food. If you had learned something over your twenty five years was that those who deny something they aren't even asked about, are exactly the image they try to distance themselves from.

You kept undressing yourself as you made your way to your bed, dropping the wrinkled fabric on it while you were only in your underwear. Only bothering to check your phone when the sound of a notification reached your ears while you put on some comfortable clothes.

Another dick pic.

You didn't know if it was the way this new guy thought a dick pic would turn you on -when you didn't even ask for it, and the conversation didn't go further than a "Hey"-, or the fact that it wasn't even that big of a thing to have you losing it and forgetting about the awful night you had.

It was a failed way to get in your pants. There was no way any girl would get turned on by those kinds of pics unprovoked. If at least it came from a person you actually liked, or were attracted to... But loverboy6577 didn't even give you time for that. And it wasn't like you were planning on giving him a chance after that.

Crawling on the bed, and pushing the dress off the mattress with your feet, you felt your body relaxing over the sheets while you looked at your phone. Another notification popped up on the upper bar, but that one made your heart twitch in your chest with excitement.

He usually never posted videos on Saturdays, but there he was. The thumbnail was completely dark when you clicked on it, and the video description explained how he thought about giving that little surprise to his followers. He spoke generally, but for some reason you felt like he was speaking directly at you. Maybe that night you just needed to believe that he was.

Reaching for your earpods, soon your brain could only focus on his masculine voice setting the mood, while the screen was completely dark.

"Are you okay? I bet today was a long day" you pressed your lips at how perfectly his video fitted with the mood you were in that night. "Let me make it up to you, okay? I promise I'll make it better".

You couldn't avoid giggling, while you cringed, as soon as those kissing sounds came up. It was the thing you least liked from his videos, but you still went through it all because it comforted you somehow. At least it helped you imagine the way his lips might look, slightly moist after he moved his tongue on them to be able to make those sounds loud and clear against the microphone.

"I got you, babe" he whispered again, following more kissing sounds. "Have I already told you how good your skin tastes?" he hummed after that, pretending to be taking off some clothes right after. "Let me undress you, I want to see how beautiful you look completely naked".

And soon those kissing sounds weren't on your lips anymore -at least not on your upper lips. Your core throbbed at the fast image of a pair of sexy eyes peeking over your mound, holding your body gently as he aimed you to your own orgasm.

"Mmm, I'm so addicted to your pussy" he groaned, still making licking sounds.

You didn't know when you slid your hand in your underwear and when you started rubbing your clit. You were only aware of how wet and ready you were when your back arched in a perfect curve after he made a spitting sound. He soon groaned, combining perfectly with your pants as you traced circles slowly.

"You're so tight, hmm" and as he said that, you slid two of your fingers filling you, making you bite your lip as your imagination ran wild. "'Feel so fucking good around my cock".

Your head was unconsciously nodding at his words, pounding your fingers in and out a bit faster as time went by. It was as if his moans were the only thing that set the pace you wanted to follow. The squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock, mixed with his whimperings and gasps made it too vivid for you, almost making you forget you were finger fucking yourself, and convinced there was someone leading the way to paradise, your paradise.

"Cum with me, baby" he sobbed, his voice cracking at the last word.

And it didn't take you too long until shiverings ran over your body, a silenced moan by your lips pressed together making it known you came to one of his videos again.

You found his channel while you scrolled down the porn site. Utterly done with the over staged videos, and the exaggerated moans and faces that made you want to tear your phone against the wall rather than touching yourself. Soon it became a usual thing, as if you were a fan. And, considering the way you behaved and felt at his every post, maybe you were.

It made no sense to you. He was faceless, there was nothing but his voice and the words he used. But it was enough to let your imagination run free, and it worked most of the nights, actually. His content was also quite dynamic, and it felt funny how it always fitted your mood completely, like tonight. Some other times, he would just pretend to be a bit rougher. Or maybe he settled a whole scene, and created a tiny porn scene in everyone's heads. But he always managed to make you feel that good.

Usually, he just seemed so out of reach. Soundleasure was a thing, you forgot he was even a person after cumming. He was just content you consumed, because you felt lonely and needy, and no real man would make you reach your high the way he did with his voice only. But it didn't seem like you thought like that that night.

After cleaning yourself up, and getting out of your bathroom, you thought deep about him. He was a real person. He made you understand your own body in a way that no one else has been able to. And if he was able to do that in the distance, maybe it'd be twice more intense if he ever directed all those words at you only.

Maybe it was your loneliness speaking, or the constant let down by every man you tried to meet casually. Clouded by your own feelings, you went further than just leaving a comment like the rest of women that consumed his content. Your finger scrolled up his page, opening his private messages to write the most cordial text you could think of.

And you forgot about it after sending it. It was too late to delete it. It was obvious he wouldn't answer back, he probably wouldn't even see it -considering the amount of women that probably tried the same thing.

That's why as time went by, you forgot about it.

You kept on with life, focusing on work and still going on dates randomly, keeping your mind focused on finding the man of your dreams. Although it was ridiculous from you to think that man would be in any of those apps.

Until one of those days, a buzz sneakily got your attention. Usually, you'd just check the text later -there was no hurry on reading what most dudes had to say. But that day, you felt curious about it.

Your eyebrows instantly frowned when you realized the notification didn't come from the dating app, but from the pornsite you'd secretly enjoy whenever there was an update. And it was, but not the one you were used to.

You felt lucky when your fingers felt weak, but not enough to drop your phone to the ground when you read his text.

Soundleasure: Hey! Sorry for the late reply. Hope you still think my voice is sexy.

You tried to avoid re-reading your own text after sending it, until you were forced to that night. Your face grimaced as soon as you were aware of how cheeky and desperate you seemed on the text you sent. Saying his voice was sexy? And nothing else? God, your mind was intoxicated by the bullshit you read on those dating apps.

You: Maybe... Or maybe you'll have to work a bit harder to get my attention again.

Soundleasure: Hmm. You answered tho, it seems like I have your attention.

You: Maybe I'm just being polite by replying back.

You: It'd be rude to just leave you on read.

Soundleasure: Oh, so you're considerate. That's nice to know.

Soundleasure: Better reason to work harder so I keep having your focus on me.

You bit your lip, lying on the couch while still holding your phone up high. It seemed too surrealistic to be real. You were talking with him, the man that put your standards on sex above the sky.

You: How are you planning on doing that?

Soundleasure: I don't know... You tell me.

You: I'm good at concentrating, so you probably won't have to do much.

Soundleasure: Hahah

Soundleasure: Ok

Soundleasure: What's your name?

You: Y/n

You: what about you?

You: i doubt soundleasure is your real name.

Soundleasure: haha San. That's my name.

Soundleasure: I'm kinda forced to ask you your age.

You: 25. I've been legal for quite a few years.

You didn't ask him his age, you didn't need to. You knew he was twenty four. It was displayed on the short description he had on his channel, along with the type of content he'd post in it.

It'd been almost a week. And while you thought the conversation would end after that night, the truth was that both San and you kept reaching out to each other, coming up with whatever that came to your heads to keep the conversation alive. You were even surprised when, after two days, he asked for your user on Telegram so you could find a more comfortable way to text -you were close, but not enough to be giving out your private phone number to a stranger.

If you thought San was only attractive in those videos, he proved you wrong by the way he acted so charming and close the more you talked. You always gave up the idea of sending him a text, convincing yourself that you'd lose interest as soon as he seemed approachable enough -or as soon as he felt comfortable enough to show his true colors. But you were so mistaken. It's like he threw a hook on you, and every time he pulled you in, you got more attached.

It was also the way you could go from cackling at the conversation, to being forced to press your thighs close together after he dropped a flirty message, or a suggestive pic as if it was nothing. You obviously played along, surprised by how easily he made that nature flow in you.

That Saturday, you had just sent one of your nsfw pics of your blurry naked figure reflected on the bathroom mirror full of steam. It was clear as day that you were naked after taking your shower, but it was impossible to clearly see what the mist was hiding.

San: Fucking hell, Y/n.......

You saw "Typing..." under his name several times, but it always ended up disappearing and he ended up disconnecting, before he came back a few more times. You giggled as a consequence, thinking that you got what you wanted with that snapshot: triggering San.

San: Omg

You: You liked it?

Your text reeked of fake innocence. He knew, you knew.

San: I hated it

Your heart skipped a beat, stopping completely when you saw that text before he suddenly left the app again. You both had been exchanging that type of pictures almost since you started talking to each other, along with a big amount of spicy texts -especially the days he uploaded content to his channel. It was the cherry on top of a great day for the two of you.

Wearing the bathrobe as the only clothing that covered your body, you sat in the middle of the bed, waiting for his text. You were doubting whether you should text first or not, but your phone buzzing in your palm gave you the answer you were looking for.

San: It's unfair I can't see that in person

His answer made you smile instantly, biting your lip while you thought of the next thing to say. He lived in Los Angeles, on the other side of the country, while you lived in Boston. You were more than four hours away.

You: Maybe we can do something better...

You: are you home?

San: Yeah

San: What did you think about?

You clearly didn't think it through, and you chose to act before you could even process your own idea. Every time you had the idea to do a video call, you'd turn it down with the fear of him not liking you -and, sometimes, not liking him. After talking for a week, you two had high expectations on each other -at least on your side it was like that. More than once you were scared of him being disappointed in the way you looked, and you were also terrified with the idea of ending up upset with him.

But that day it didn't seem to matter to you. You clicked on the video call option, and just waited for him to answer. You held your phone at the level of your face, checking your reflection out while you bit your lip nervously. All the excitement started disappearing when he didn't pick up the call, and you started thinking that maybe you got ahead of yourself.

Suddenly, everything was silent and you got surprised by his face on the screen.

You couldn't believe you were ever scared of not liking him. Not only did he had an attractive voice, and a charming personality, his face also seemed sculpted by the gods. His foxy eyes had a gentle look on them as he stared back at you through the screen, and his dimples made his sharp features look innocent and soft as he smiled.

"So I see you weren't lying on taking a shower" he commented, making one of his eyebrows disappear behind his bangs.

"You thought I was baiting you?" his deep chuckle sent shiverings all over your body, before you chose to keep talking. "It'd have been perfect timing for you to send a picture, too" you pointed out.

You were able to point out that he also took a shower, by the way that the end of his bangs that fell on his forehead -and slightly over his eyes- looked a bit wet still.

"You got ahead of me" he played with his hair, acknowledging your good eye sight with a wide smile. His smile slowly dropped to a smirk, as his eyes concentrated on you for a brief second "You're beautiful".

Taking the compliment the best way you could, you simply smiled and lowered your face enough the moment you felt your cheeks lighting up.

"Don't cover up. That's cute" he giggled.

But you couldn't help it. All the times through messages, you two kept acting confidently, being the sexiest of your versions. But there you were, blushing over the word "beautiful" and the way his eyes shined as he said it.

You clearly weren't used to that type of treatment.

"You also look good" you assured him.

"Better than expected?"

Far better than expected.

While you still were surprised by his good physique, you didn't see his face in either of the pics he sent. Like you, he always ended up covering it with the shape of his phone on the several mirror selfies he took, or he straight up cut off his face. So now that you were seeing him, and confirming he was the perfect combo, your head was struggling to admit San was real and not a person you created out of desperation.

"Maybe" you answered teasingly.

"I already had high expectations on you, but you made sure to break them all off" his mouth was trying to transmit that with appeal, yet his smile and the way he nervously pressed his lips together betrayed him.

Just like it happened whenever you texted each other, the conversation didn't seem to have an ending. And it was the best thing with him, the way you felt you could talk for hours and never get bored. There was always a topic, a situation, an anecdote... always something that had you two engaged for a few more minutes. But you didn't know it'd be even better when you two went silent, staring at each other for some seconds, before you bit your lip and spoke again.

"You said it was unfair you couldn't see me in person" you started, tilting your head slightly, "What exactly do you want to see?".

One of his eyebrows raised at your question, grinning while he rested his back against the office chair in his room. "Your skin. I bet it looks softer than it does in pictures".

Your robe slipped off your right shoulder, exposing your collarbone and the curve of one of your breasts "Can you appreciate it now?".

"Kinda" he sighed, "It looks better than on the pic, but not good enough" he smiled again. "Maybe I need to see a bit more".

Now moving down the robe over your other shoulder, it was hanging on your arms -enough to cover up your nipples, but still showing off your cleavage. It was nothing he hadn't seen before though. You had sent several underwear pics at some point in the night, but somehow it felt different that day.

"Would you be able to handle this in person?" the middle finger of your free hand traced your collarbone ever so gently you felt tickles from your own touch.

"I'd do more than just handle it" he assured, his voice going lower with every word. "But I'd for sure rip that thing off. It's pissing me off".

"You don't need to break it though, just" and with that pause, you undid the knot on the upper part of your belly, allowing the soft fabric to expose your breasts on the screen "open it".

A whimper suddenly came out of his lips, at the same time he tried to find a more comfortable position on his chair. San also rolled it a bit more to the back, showing more than just his torso covered with that gray sweater.

You had never felt the strong need to sit on someone's lap until you saw his legs on the screen, with his hands falling on them lazily.

"Those tits are begging to be sucked"

"Hmm" your right hand kept wandering all over your torso, feeling your nipples tightening at the filth in his words. "I bet they'd look better if they were in your mouth instead".

Just the thought of it got your body working faster than it has ever worked before, as if you were going to take him at any time.

"Of course" he nodded "Getting them hard and stiff until they hurt".

Following his words, your index and thumb rubbed on your nipple, tightening the grip sporadically, ending it with a pinch and pull that got you pressing your thighs at the sudden throb.

"I want to see you, too"

San thought he'd collapse right there when he saw you pouting as you said that, your hand dropping out of the camera vision while your eyes intensely looked at him. Maybe he was too horny, or maybe his lack of experience with any other girl made him so eager for you. But there he was, willing to do anything you'd ask for.

While he took off his sweater, you placed a pillow at the edge of the bed just so you could rest your phone on it and forget about holding it up in the air. You heard him groan at the sight of your half naked body, while your hands still held together the edges of your robe so your lower part wouldn't be exposed.

"I think this is the hardest I've ever been for someone" he mentioned, stroking his growing bulge over his black sweatpants.

"Let me see how hard I'm making you" you asked, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

It didn't take San a minute before he was lowering his pants and boxers enough to let his cock spring free in the air, and ending up resting on his stomach. Your eyes got lost on the shape of his cock, thinking how bad you'd like to suck on its curve, tracing the veins that went from the base to the tip with your tongue.

You could feel your mouth watering at the image, wishing there weren't 2611 miles between you two right at that moment. That man for sure wasn't real. Every inch of his body was perfect.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teasingly asked, stroking his cock while he looked at you.

"I wish that was the problem" you scoffed, bending over, resting your body on your elbows, so you could see his image up close. "I've never wanted to get choked on a cock so bad in my life".

"I bet you'd look gorgeous with your mouth stuffed with it" he groaned.

You smiled, aiming two of your fingers at your mouth. You rubbed the tip of your fingerprints on your flat muscle, just to enclose your lips around them while staring straight at the camera. It felt like your eyes were connecting through the whole thing, because you could hear San cursing as soon as you did that.

"Show me how wet you are while you still suck on those fingers, hmm?"

Biting on your own fingerprints, you smiled. You for sure were leaking at that point, you could fill your juices dripping from your entrance to your clit when you bent over to the camera. Changing your position again, you opened your robe completely with your legs still closed as you saw in front of the camera. And once you made sure everything was seen for him, you spread your legs, having San moaning out loud at the vision of your glistening lips.

Your wet fingers with your spit traveled all the way from your lips to your pussy, moving through your folds for him. Your heart skipped a beat when they reached your clit, finally being taken care of after ignoring it for so long.

"Wet enough to have my face buried in it" his raspy voice added "I bet you taste so fucking good".

And soon those scenarios you planted in your head, with a mysterious man with no face, finally came back to your head with every detail you could add. Your pussy clenched around the emptiness in your walls as your mind went wild and your fingers drew circles slowly.

"I'd love to know if that tongue is good at licking as much as it is at dirty talking" you joked, finding his eyes somewhere on the screen again.

"You can bet I'd have your legs trembling and your ears beeping after you cum" he smirked. "Slide two fingers in. Open up for me".

And just the same way you allowed your fingers to go down your folds and sink them inside of you, you saw San spitting on his hand and wrapping it around his shaft again.

"That's it, honey. Knuckles deep" he encouraged you, making the biggest effort to keep his eyes open through his own pleasure. "Pump them in and out as if it were my cock".

The praise in his words, the way he controlled your movements even from afar had you completely out of your mind. You were sure the sound of his voice was giving you more pleasure than your own fingers.

Managing to open your eyelids, that felt heavy as ever before, you got a moan stuck in the back of your throat as you saw him pumping his cock at a steady pace. The way you were able to see your opened legs through the corner of your eyes, while your eyes were fixed on the porn scene he was pulling made everything hotter. You were sure the temperature rose a few more degrees the moment you started that video call.

"You'd look even better if it was my cock fucking you" he moaned, moving his hand faster on his shaft. "Your tits bouncing every time I pound into you, holding you tight by your hips so you could take it all".

"I bet you'd stretch me out so good" you nodded.

Your brain was close to having a dead short at any time. The naughtiness in his words, mixed with everything that was going on in real life and in your head was too much to handle. Your back arched every time you sinked your fingers in and your palm rubbed on your clit.

"I'm gonna cum" you cried, unable to hold it back any longer.

"I'm so close, too" he groaned, throwing his head back finally. "Wait for me. I'm almost there".

Still moving your fingers in sync with his movements, you found yourself at the edge of the cliff, only allowing yourself to jump from it when you heard muttering he was ready, too. Both of your moans got mixed in the air as you both reached your highs. And, slowly, those moans turned to loud pants while you tried to get some oxygen back to your lungs.

Daring to look at him, you found San with his head falling back to the chair, eyes still closed while he smiled pleased.

"It was amazing" he whispered.

"Yeah" you agreed, sighing.

He finally opened his eyes, and you were mesmerized by how beautiful and genuinely they looked. You saw him getting some air, and opening his mouth, before he got interrupted by a male voice coming from outside the room "Where the fuck is the controller? I need to beat these assholes' asses".

Managing to cover your body with the robe again, you smile at a pissed of San. "It's alright, you can text me later"

"I won't take long" he assured you, before he hung up the video call.

Back in the silence and loneliness in your room, you made your best at holding in the sudden need to jump on the bed and dance away in excitement.

Your bad streak was finally over.

Most probably this will turn into a long fanfic, just like Kalla did. So take this as a snippet of what's to come soon!

#ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #armpirate

104 notes · View notes

blindmagdalena · 1 year

Note

imagine homelander with a gf that gets really really clingy with him after watching sad movies where the one of the partners dies. obvi he’ll try to make it abt her, but really he’s touched that someone cares about him enough to worry about him..😭

This movie is... ridiculous. Homelander's biting back a laugh through the emotional climax of the film, unable to empathize with the choices of these characters, when suddenly he hears you sniffle. Looking down with his brows lifted, he catches the glint of tears rolling down your cheeks. "Whoa, hey, what?" He asks, sincerely baffled. Normally he can understand your responses to things decently well, but this catches him wholly off guard. You'd both been laughing about how silly the movie was not ten minutes ago. "What's with the waterworks?"

"I'm not crying," you answer stubbornly, pushing your cheek into the soft chest padding of his suit. "Right, my mistake. Just leaking lacrimal fluids then," he says wryly. He expects you to retort, maybe give his thigh an ineffectual slap, but there's a flicker of concern amidst his bewildered amusement when you don't respond at all, pressed tight to his side, tears still falling. "Babe," he calls, the word softly stressed. His brows knit together as he hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your eyes up to meet his. "C'mon, talk to me. No way that movie—

"It wasn't the movie," you admit finally, exasperation in your voice aimed not at him, but at yourself. "Not really, it was stupid, it just... I don't know. It got me thinking. I really don't know what I'd do if I lost you," you say, voice falling quieter and quieter with every word. It doesn't matter to him, he hears every bit of it. Homelander's shoulders sag.

"You won't," he says, face still pinched. You're the fragile one, not him. It makes his chest feel wrung tight, uncomfortable in a way he can't make sense of. You are his only vulnerability. You exist in his life as a precarious thing, a knife wedged in his heart that can be twisted and used to hurt him. A wicked part of him, the part that yearns for true invulnerable godhood, hates that about you. He swallows, mouth twitching. "You won't," he says again, needing it to be true as much as you do.

"I know," you say quietly, shifting up to press a kiss to his lips. In moments like this, you are so gentle with him, he almost feels fragile. It's as terrifying as it is indulgent. No one has ever worried about him the way you do. They've only ever cared about the damage he could do to others, but not to himself. Not about what could be done to him. "But I love you. A lot. More than I've ever loved anyone. I think I would go nuclear, you know? Just... Burn it all down kind of crazy," you say, huffing a teary little laugh. "But that's what they say. Love makes us crazy." Homelander kisses you fiercer than you're prepared for. He cups your face and holds you firm, soaking in your words, the salty smell of your tears, the tremble in your voice. All of it for him. "Say it again," he murmurs against your lips, voice tight.

"I love you," you say again, taking hold of his wrist. "I love you, I love you, I love y—" Your lips meet again with even more fervor. Homelander pulls you sideways into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he sinks deeper into your touch, your lips, the warm sweetness of this vulnerable, unconditional love you have for him. He would kill for you without question, decimate a world that would see fit to take you from him. Knowing you've thought the same sets him aflame. "I love you so fucking much," he rumbles, kissing his way down your throat. "Show me how much," you rasp, tears drying in the wake of heat crawling through you, ignited by his touch. In the background, the film continues to play, wholly forgotten. It may not have been a particularly good movie, but it does at least serve as the catalyst to a very, very good evening.

#beep boop SCHMOOP #thanks anon this was a very cute prompt!#fluff #homelander x reader #homelander x you #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #my writing #lil spicy at the end there oop

294 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 3 months

Note

For Homestuck, Cronus Ampora yandere alphabet please

Yeah, sure! Here you go :) (Sorry for the wait, omfl-)

Yandere Alphabet - Cronus Ampora

Pairing: Ambiguous ♥️♦️♠️♣️

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Demanding yandere, Kidnapping, Stalking, Touchy behavior implied, Toxic relationship, Forced companionship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I'd say he comes off intense... in a lot of ways.

I feel Cronus ends up insufferable with his obsession. He's clingy and insecure and sometimes just comes off as rude. He feels very entitled to you no matter what Quadrant he wants to place you in.

Rejection is definitely what drives his obsession. He can't afford to fail anymore. Which is what makes him so persistent.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Cronus is more desperate and emotional with his obsession. He's dramatic and wouldn't really be one to kill. He prefers to just antagonize or drive away those he feels are too close to you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I have a feeling he'd seem mocking but isn't actually mocking you. He comes off as a very demanding yandere who wants his darling to sink every ounce of attention they have into him.

Even in captivity he is very draining. He'll give you care to keep you with him... but he mostly intends to take advantage of your affection.

Most likely yeah. As I said before he is mostly very demanding no matter the quadrant.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

I'd say at times he's very vulnerable. He is open with his darling and often emotional. Sometimes it feels like manipulation... other times he may genuinely be opening up to you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Upset, irritated, exasperated... you'd think he'd be used to rejection by now. But no... it only drives him further. He'd probably argue with you before finding a way to stop your outburst.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No and he hates it.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

When it comes to Cronus I'm sure a few come to mind.

However, I'd say when he eventually snaps and kidnaps you. Cycles of rejection after rejection drives him crazy. He's going to do anything to force you into a quadrant with him.

Even if it means some restraints.

He doesn't care. As long as you're in a quadrant with him he's happy. Then he can finally get that attention he's been wanting.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Yes to an overwhelming degree. He will definitely lash out in the form of a verbal argument with either you those around you. I can't imagine him coping too quietly.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Clingy, Demanding, Desperate, Manipulative, Dramatic... need I say more? He would be draining to be around.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He'd definitely follow you around and stalk you. He'd try flirting or starting fights between you depending on the quadrant. He would be relentless and hard to be around.

He's desperate, of course he would be.

If that doesn't work? He'll try something new.

Not... entirely?

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Restraints, isolation, maybe even him getting a bit too close to comfort? He's a creep. That's all I got.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

A lot, actually.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He's actually very impatient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Honestly? He'd either break even more or move on to try more aggressively with another obsession.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No and not unless you agree to be in a quadrant with him.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

The endless rejection he gets.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

That's hard to say with him. He may try gently to help if not outright leave you alone. He may even have a bit of a fit.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Most likely/Skipping this.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Joining a quadrant with him. Doesn't matter what one. Reciprocation makes him obedient as he's scared to lose you. Essentially... manipulate him back.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not really.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Quite a bit actually. Remember, he's desperate, he'd worship you if you wanted like a Lowblood.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Not very long at all.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes.

#yandere homestuck #yandere homestuck x reader #yandere cronus ampora

29 notes · View notes

rathesy · 8 months

Text

If YOU are Kim Gong-Ja's 'Spirit'/the Sword Emperor! Fem reader

Alt: Kim Gong-Ja is a simp for half of it and I'm simping for the other half; (Earlier chapters btw and unedited)

You drive him crazy in terms of mental, physical and emotional. Mentally because of your loud cocky personality, whining, complaints and remarks, physically because of your 'training' and emotionally because how is it POSSIBLE FOR YOU TO HAVE SUCH A CUTE SMILE WHILE ALL THIS. Even when you put him through really rough training, just seeing you smile proudly at him makes his heart beat rapidly.

When he first met you, as in when he accidentally took you in, he thought you were gonna be an annoying ghost. And you are but you are HIS annoying ghost and you somehow took his heart. God bless him because he's gonna lose it when he realises his feelings.

He wanted to tease you by calling him 'master' until he realises how weird that is and quickly tried to play it off. However, you use this to teased him everything and he gets red every single time.

He's probably gonna get hard on accident. I'm sorry but this is a depressing shut in man and you're telling me that he hasn't had human contact for years? Boom. Especially with you outfit, revealing your jacked arms and a little bit of a chest, he's a man and he's half honest.

Anyways, you have the dynamics of; (Dumbass x Oh fuck I guess they're MY dumbass both ways), (Buff x Lanky), ( *fighting* → *making out* /j) and (Pining x Dumbass at love)

Fun scenario if you both date fr:

"Are you serious?" You raise an eyebrow at the man in front of you. "Yes." Kim Gong-ja says so determined by his desire that he just told you. "Fine whatever, you weirdo," You grab his arms and pull him in a hug. His head on your chest while he simply relaxed as if he's in cloud nine.

"..You still have training."

"10 more minutes."

I'm just thinking of like a scenario where you try to comfort him but also showing your vulnerable side sjwgwjgewj don't mind me

YOU KNOW THE CHAPTER WITH THE DOLLS? After finding out about the backstory and such, you face away for a moment before facing towards him and leaning against him to comfort both him and yourself from what you've seen. Yes, you may be a powerful and cocky person but you're not a monster. Imagine you joining in with playing with the 'children' even if you're a ghost, that'll be so cute.

You cannot tell me that Kim Gong-ja isn't a MALEWIFE that will kill anyone who is a threat to him and his wife(you). He is the malewife husband that works. I wanna see how affectionate he can get with you and soft.

I don't know what my brain is on rn but I hope you like reading this short blog😅

Tell me if they're OCC because I think I forgot some stuff💕

#kim gongja #x reader #x fem!reader #x fem reader #fem reader #x female reader #female reader #sss class revival hunter #sss class suicide hunter #scsh x reader #scrh x reader #manhwa #manhwa x reader #manhwa spoilers #i think #kim gong-ja #kim gongja x reader

59 notes · View notes

ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

Text

Semantic Error | Jeon Jungkook | Chapter 7

Based off of Semantic Error (bl) by J Soori Summary: After kissing Jungkook you find yourself in a whirlwind new emotions and you have no idea how you're going to face him after this. Pairing: Techie inexperienced fem!reader x Artist fuck boy Jungkook Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Some explicit language but nothing too crazy lol a/n: It's been like two weeks since I last uploaded a chapter lol my bad. Hopefully I can update this more regularly soon. Read from the beginning

Slamming the door behind me I rest against it, catching my breath trying to process what just happened.

"Why the fuck would I kiss Jeon Jungkook?" I say aloud, mad at myself for getting caught up in his winding web of women that have fallen for his charm. I groan and take my backpack off, tossing it onto my chair and take my jacket off after that. "What's wrong with me?" I yell out, not knowing how to cope with these thoughts and emotions roaming through my head right now leaving me throwing my jacket across the room and knocking my lamp down in the meantime causing the lightbulb to shatter.

"Of fucking course" I groan and stalk towards it after grabbing the broom and dustpan. I assess the damage and see that I might actually need a whole new one. "Today is not my day" I say unplugging the lamp, setting it to the side. Taking a deep breath I gather up my things again and decide it's best to just get things over with and buy a lamp right away, hoping it'll take my mind off things and head out the door.

Walking to the store not to far from my house takes almost no time at all to get to thankfully and when I walk in I'm met with a greeting from one of the workers. "Oh hey y/n" says the all too familiar classmate that seems to have just as much of a fixation on me as Jungkook. "Hi Jimin" I say and start making my way towards the area where I'm sure I can find what I'm looking for. "What brings you in today?" he says trailing behind me, hoping to be helpful. "I need a new lamp" I say and keep my head on a swivel trying to find the area as soon as possible.

"Aisle six" he says, answering my obvious but unspoken question as to where they might be. "Thanks" I say and head that way with him still following just behind me. "What kind are you looking for?" he questions, trying to yet again keep the conversation flowing despite my clear disinterest. "Just a floor lamp" I say, checking out the selection. "Here you go" he says handing me exactly what I'm looking for. I look up at him suspiciously, confused as to how he found it right away. "How did yo-" "It's our best seller" he says simply and starts carrying it to the front for me. "I can carry that myself you know" I say crossing my arms in front of my chest and trailing behind him, now having our predicament switched up.

"I know, but I work here so there's no reason as to why I shouldn't help you" he says taking me up to the register to wait in line. "Wait here and I'll help you carry it home" he says heading to what I can assume is the staff room. "Aren't you still on the clock?" I question, confused at his continued effort to assist me. "I just finished. I'm gonna go grab my stuff and clock out" he says and rushes off so do as he said. I face back towards the register and wait for my turn, forced to ultimately be met with him reaching me before I'm able to get checked out and just leave without him.

"Ready to go?" he says grabbing the box from me again. "Yeah I guess" I say and start walking back towards my apartment with him following behind. "Why are you doing this?" I ask once we finally reaching my door, having walked the entire journey back in silence. "Well you helped me when I-" "Yes I understand I did that for you, but that doesn't explain why you keep on trying to help me every time you see me. I'm not some helpless damsel in distress you know" I say after letting us both in with him placing the box on the floor and looking around my studio apartment for a bit.

"I know, but I like helping my friend. Is that so wrong?" he questions making purposeful eye contact with me. "I guess not, but we're not friends" I say closing the door and sitting down on my bed with him following suit deciding to sit at my desk. "Well I'd like to be" he says waiting for my decision. He looks unbothered by what I had said so I guess he's already used to my straightforward nature and rough edges. It might not be the worst thing in the world to be friends with him. He's not too annoying, a little clingy but not unbearably so and he seems to be a nice and genuine person from what I can tell so I don't see too many disadvantages as to having a friendship with him.

"I guess that's fine" I say and open up the box to start putting the lamp together. "So since we're friends now, can I help you put this lamp together? he asks unpacking all the pieces. "Friends also listen to their other friends wishes. So no, I can put this together on my own" I say pulling out the instruction manual and looking over the materials accounting for everything. "Okay" he says and decides to sit back and watch me put it together on my own.

"Can you do me a favor?" I ask finally deciding to use him for a second. "Of course" he says and I notice how he almost looks like a puppy waiting for his next command from how round his eyes are while looking at me, still sitting down on the computer chair. "Can you go grab one of the light bulbs from that drawer in the kitchen, the second one from the bottom" I say waving over towards the area, my eyes focused on the lamp again, making sure everything is perfect.

He nods and checks the drawer, looking around for a bit which makes me feel a little bit suspicious. "Did you find them?" I ask getting impatient, hoping to get this whole incident from earlier taken care of. "No I can't find any in this drawer" he says moving things around a bit but ultimately coming up empty handed. "Let me look" I say and walk over to where he stands, doing exactly as he had done, hoping to come up with a different result.

Having searched high and low through all the places I could've possibly thought about storing the lightbulbs I come to the conclusion that I've ran out. "Perfect" I mumble under my breath hating the thought of having to go out yet again. "Why don't I go grab some for you? I'll be back in like 20 minutes tops" he says starting to put on his shoes to make his way out. "Okay" I agree, knowing that he would probably argue with me and end up with the same result if I try to refuse. "Be right back" he says and walks out the door leaving me sat on the floor now alone again with my thoughts.

The images of me kissing Jungkook go round and round and round in my head, still not understanding why I would do something like that. How am I even going to face him in class? Let alone when we're alone in his studio again. I wonder if he even knows that I did that? Did he even feel it? He was sleeping so he probably didn't feel a thing. He didn't even move or react after I did that so he probably doesn't know.

If he does know I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do about it. How do I even explain myself to him? 'Oh hey, yeah about that kiss, it was kind of stupid and I don't know what came over me. It's just that you looked really attractive while you were sleeping, well I mean you always look attractive, but you made me flustered and I couldn't stop thinking about everything and I-' my rambling train of thought it cut off by the sound of my door bell ringing.

"That was fast" I say thinking it was already Jimin but I'm met by the guy who has been running circles around my head and the one person I was hoping to avoid.

"Hey Pretty"

prev / next

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie @jk97bam

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or comment below to be added :)

#fanfic #kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin #bts jimim #semantic error

39 notes · View notes

wehangout · 9 days

Note

Hi!!! Love your prompt game replies!! I’m a sucker for forehead kisses!! ❤️💜🩵

Send me a number prompt and I’ll make it smutty

3. forehead kisses

It's your fourth go that night. First were the mutual handjobs outside the club that took you back ten years to when you were both young and stupid. Even this time, you were both young and stupid, but you had just gotten engaged and it was impossible to keep your hands off each other.

Next was the long, proper fuck once you got home and had Mickey back in your bedroom - you took your time opening him up, stretching him until he was a panting mess and couldn't say anything but your name.

Third was slow and lazy an hour later, after the pillow talk and the declarations and the apologies. It was Mickey's hand fisted in your hair and you whispering promises into his neck as you lay behind him, moving at a languid pace that worked for you both.

And now, Mickey's riding you as you sit with your back against the wall and it's a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

It's the man you've been in love with since you were fifteen using your body to seek his own pleasure, his eyes closed, eyebrows drawn in just that tiny bit as he rides you torturously slow. It's the most generous, kind, wonderful person you know clenching his ass around you on every lift because he knows it drives you fucking crazy. It's your soul mate, your one true love, your goddamn destiny cupping your face in his hands and opening his eyes to meet your gaze with so much emotion that you have to swallow the lump in your throat as you move into kiss him.

It's Mickey. And you almost lost him.

It's only now that he's back, that you're engaged, that giving you that look, that you realise how much you had to lose. You knew you loved Mickey, that deep down you absolutely wanted to marry him. What you didn't know was how fucking devastated you would have been had things not gone the way they did.

"You okay?" he whispers, slowing down.

"Perfect."

He stops. "Ian, you're fuckin' crying, man."

You sniff and wipe away the tears. "No, I'm not."

He doesn't jump to conclusions. He swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes and waits you out and the stupidest words fall from your lips.

"Just ... fuckin' love you."

"Love you, too, Gallagher." He sounds as confused as he looks, and you can't help but slide your hands to his hips and hold on for life.

"Nearly lost you."

Something you can't name passes over his face, but he shakes his head. "Nah. You didn't."

You close your eyes, turn to press your lips to the palm of his hand. "You moved out."

"Sure," he says, moving a hand up and pushing back your hair, "but I always come back. You gotta know that by now, Ian."

You look at him and he stares back and you're both confused and impressed that you're still hard inside of him. Maybe emotional conversations get you hot. Either way, you wiggle a little and he sucks in a breath.

"Yeah? You wanna keep goin'?"

You nod, because he's the man you've been in love with since you were fifteen. Because he's the most generous, kind, wonderful person you know. Because he's your soul mate, one true love, goddamn destiny.

Because he's Mickey.

Hands still caressing your face, he pulls you close and brushes his lips against your forehead, a move that makes your heart flutter and your dick twitch.

"I'm yours, Ian," he murmurs. "Always have been, always will be."

And then he begins to move again, just as torturously slow as before, and he holds your gaze until you have to bury your face into his neck as you come.

#gallavich #gallavich fic #ian and mickey #my fic #smut prompts #also this one took a turn and i don't know if i should apologise or not #it's either super emo or really sweet #you decide #tv-obssessions #thank you so much!!

17 notes · View notes

queentala · 2 years

Text

Rowan bedroom headcanons

Rowan Whitethorn x reader

Warnings: NSFW obviously... Please don't read if you're not comfortable <3

Words: 2108

And last but not least from our amazing cadre - Rowan mf Whitethorn Daddy Buzzard

Well, in the books he seemed kinda vanilla to me but long time ago I decided "fuck canon". Also it's called headcanons and I have wild fantasy for a reason, so, LET'S GO!

Rowan likes biting. (Anyone surprised? Yeah, me neither.) Sometimes it's just innocent, playful nibbling at your ear or shoulder when he's hugging you from behind, pulling your bottom lip with his fangs when making out and generally taking every opportunity to chomp any piece of your skin he can get near his smiling lips.

However, half of the time it's more than that.

There rarely is a day when you don't bear hickeys on your neck. Like, you are Rowan's mate. And he needs everyone to remember this, including you.

You're always marked by him. Every day Rowan makes sure you have at lest few visible hickeys on your neck or collarbones because 1) it's very clear signal for other men to fuck off, 2) every time you look into mirror, memories of last night come back to you as well as promises of repetition when you get home, 3) you simply look hot and it makes Rowan feel proud and loved as you're not ashamed of showing what he can do to you.

He really likes to wake you up like this - biting and pulling at your soft flesh, first gently, then as you begin to awake, getting more intense. His hands stroke your sides or hair as his lips work on your neck, sleepy murmurs coming from your throat only motivating him to keep going.

That way not only he makes you feel good from the very morning, but also knows that the bruises won't disappear during the day.

And he's more than happy when you return the favor, creating a chain of love marks running from his jaw, down his neck and along collarbones. During the years it became your love langue.

Oh, and of course, during sex - marks everywhere. On both of you. If you're not bruised, scratched and hickeyed, you're not done.

(Rowan always bites into your shoulder when he's cumming.)

Basically, I think your neck would be Rowan's favorite part of you. He really gets crazy at the sight of your body, he loves to worship your every inch but your neck... So pretty and fragile. The way it fits perfectly into his big palm, the way your eyes roll back when he squeezes it. He could harm you so easily yet you trust him, let him do anything he wishes with you, throwing yourself at his mercy.

Rowan is 100% dom that loves having everything in control. He's the top, he's the one giving orders so know your place as he's not giving up the power he holds.

Also he might be bit of a sadist.

It is the part of him he rarely shows to anyone and maybe doesn't really acknowledge it himself. Rowan knew it's nothing to be proud of, but torturing people, hearing them screaming and begging, always brought him some kind of relief. He'd assumed it's because he can take out all his anger and other emotions like this. Only when you told him that you don't mind some pleasurable pain in bedroom and showed him all the things that turn you on... Oh baby, you set the beast free.

Like I alluded above, choking/breath play in general. Rowan loves to control your breathing, especially when you orgasm, making your head spin with dizziness as your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He could easily use his magic to do so but your mate simply loves to hold your neck in his iron grasp, run his knuckles along your soft skin lovingly only to grip it brutally seconds later, knocking all the air out of your lungs.

He especially loves to fuck you from behind. Like, when he's pushing your back against his chest, one hand clasped tightly on your neck, other one playing either with your breasts or clit as he hammers into your small hole and you're just a whimpering mess, scratching at his wrists as you chase orgasm after orgasm.

And the next day you don't have to worry about choosing jewellery as you have beautiful purple necklace printed on your skin.

Another thing often used in your bedroom are gags. There's a whole fucking collection in Rowan's drawer and you can find there all types on every occasion. We have: ball gags, tapes, dildo gags, ring / spider gags and every other one that you desire, or depending on what Rowan wants to do with your mouth, is needed.

For example, when at the beginning you had problems with holding your mouth open while Rowan fucked your throat, he made you wear spider gag and sit between his legs with his cock in your mouth for hours.

Or when he had to punish you for misbehaving and you kept defending yourself and whining he forced dildo gag down your throat and taped your mouth, then continued to fuck you mercilessly all night.

The muffled sounds you make when you try to speak and the helpless look in your eyes never fail to take your mate to the edge.

Often it is combined with other kinds of restrains like bondage. Nothing too heavy, but enough to keep you in place, preventing your thighs from squeezing when he’s abusing the spot that makes you see stars or tying your hands to the headboard so you’re not able to touch him if you’d been naughty.

Your bed definitely has built in several metal rings to which Rowan can tie ropes or chains with handcuffs and tie you up, no matter the position he has you in.

Sometimes to spice up things a little he adds a blindfold. When you're all tied up, gagged and devoid of almost all your senses, and you have no idea what's happening around you, Rowan likes to tease you for a while (long time). He uses his wind to bluff you about his location or sends cold breeze to brush against your warm, naked body and pussy throbbing in need. He loves that you're always more sensitive to touch in moments like this.

I also feel like Rowan would be big on impact play. He could definitely spend the whole day with you bent over his lap and ass red from all the times his hand landed on it. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure the red print of his palm on your buttcheek won’t disappear for the next few days. And the day after he would struggle to hide his smirk whenever you winced while sitting, remembering how loud your moans mixed with cries were last night or how you were literally dripping on his tight every time he smacked your butt.

He loves to remind and tease you about how much of a painslut you are.

Like I said before, Rowan loves control. His first and most important rule: no cumming without permission. Doesn’t matter how close you are, how much it hurts or that you’re not able to hold it any longer, you get to cum only when your mate decide you’ve earned it. If he feels like you’re really slipping over the edge and won’t last long, he’ll simply stop.

“Oh baby, if you can’t fulfill such an easy order then you don’t deserve to cum, don’t you think?”

Could edge you for hours if not days. Fucking you slowly or brutally, pulling out every time you were just about to let go, spending countless amount of time whit his tongue buried in your hole and lips sucking on your clit, making the torture even longer when you start getting too whiny, or with you on his lap, fingering your pussy from dusk till dawn simply because he was bored.

This fucker would definitely smooth warming/stimulating salve over your crotch or clit and then made you go the whole day without touching, watching you so desperate that you’re ready to fuck any furniture in the room, only to relief the burning between your legs even a little bit.

And don’t get me started on how Rowan would make you ride his thigh... Laughing every time your eyes almost jump out of their orbits as your clit brush against the material cladding his hard muscles. His hands clasped firmly on your hips, making sure you don’t get too carried away, ready to pull you off and stop the pleasure if you disobey his orders.

And maybe he’d go this far to even buy you fancy collar and leash to pull on whenever you ride his leg or cock.

But, Rowan is not an asshole, at least not to you, so he always makes sure after edging you get as many orgasms as you (he) want. At the end of the day it’s mostly all about your pleasure.

That’s why from time to time he invites Gavriel or Lorcan (few times even both) to make sure you’re properly taken care of.

“I couldn’t forgive myself if I ever let my baby leave our bed unsatisfied” Rowan cooed, evil smirk settling on his lips as more tears fell on your cheeks. His hand gripped your neck and he could feel himself deep in your throat, speeding up as he neared his another release. Your cries were muffled, making the three men chuckle. Gavriel dig his fingers harder into your hips as he fastened his thrusts, manhandling you up and down on his cock, Lorcan hammering into your ass from behind, all three of them stretching you painfully yet so good. Your whole body was shaking but the males weren’t even close to giving you a rest.

Rowan would definitely not restrain himself to fucking you only behind the doors of your bedroom. In fact, the risk of you two being caught during naughty times really turns him on. What’s the better way to show someone that you’re only his than fucking you mercilessly on their eyes?

So more than once you found yourself being railed against the wall on some palace corridor or on the table in the meeting room, few minutes before the beginning of a meeting. And when you think your mate is not able to surprise you anymore he proves you wrong with ideas you would never come up with.

“Ayo darling, I know we’re eating important dinner with my whole family right now but do you want to fuck in the garden?”

On hay in stable, under the table during ball, on a rooftop, on the beach (obviously), on a bench in park, saunas, restaurants, temple (happened once) and basically wherever your dirty minds tell you to.

Angry sex with Rowan would be another new experience. When his fist grips your hair so hard you’re afraid he might rip them out of your head but his another hand is squeezing your neck, making you dizzy, so all the worries turn into thin air within seconds. His hips meet yours with bruising force and speed as Rowan pulls orgasms out of you, one after another, fucking you into pure ecstasy. And the fury in his eyes, making the green irises turn so dark that almost brown, putting you into subconscious, making you his fuck doll he can take out those anger on.

And as the cherry on top: Rowan with breeding kink!

Like, it’s canon that this guy wants a big family but I don’t think it’s only because he loves children.

What he loves even more is putting children in your belly. Putting as much cum he can into you, watching you grow bigger with every day, inhaling your new scent. Ofc as an amazing mate he’d spoil you with everything you wish, doesn’t matter if it’s food, fuzzy blankets or sexual fantasies and needs. Then he’d be the best father in the world, taking care of your kids as if they’re the most precious things in the universe. And when he finally puts them to their beds, Rowan will drag you to your bedroom and watch you swell for another nine months.

Cool. I made myself horny.

Now that I read this and Gavriel's headcanons I have a feeling I made Lorcan and Fenrys look too vanilla. Guess I'm gonna rewrite some things...

And anticipating your questions, yes, you'll get Rowan smut. Most likely in few months as you know I struggle with writing those but still. I already have few ideas.

#rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan x reader #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #throne of glass imagines #tog x reader #tog #tog imagines #sjm #acotar #cc hoeab #tog smut #azriel #cassian #rhysand #lorcan salvaterre #gavriel #fenrys moonbeam

470 notes · View notes