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retrosabers · 3 months ago

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine smut #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #x men #the wolverine

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euthymiya · 2 months ago

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[ ASKING PRICE — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: kinich isn’t so happy that you spend time with ajaw. you’re more than willing to pay the price to make up for it

before you read: gender neutral reader ; established relationship ; slightly jealous kinich (of ajaw getting more attention) ; ajaw cameo! ; lots of kisses ;) (kinich not ajaw)

You laugh, and Kinich’s vein all but pops.

Normally, he’s agitated by Ajaw on most hours of most days. That much is a well known fact. But not today, though—because today, he’s absolutely infuriated. (And no, this is not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis. This anger is very much here to stay and not go anywhere.)

You’re here to complete a commission with him, not spend your time giggling with a certain saurian. And your kindness is very much wasted going towards someone as pompous as Ajaw—still, there’s a part of him that admires it. Only you could manage to be kind to someone as difficult to get along with.

What he doesn’t admire, however, is that you happen to be the one person Ajaw also doesn’t mind being kind to. (Well, as kind as someone like Ajaw can get, that is.)

“—and when the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw summons the howling winds, and sets the whole world ablaze, you can be the only survivor!”

It’s a grating voice, Kinich thinks distantly, rolling his eyes at the way you chuckle and give a grateful nod, entertaining the pure nonsense of a fool. Ajaw has approximately the same brain power as a dead saurian. That’s to say: none. How you manage to laugh at jokes made by such a simpleton is beyond the comprehension of someone like Kinich—but he supposes you’ve always been kind to a fault. A pity laugh certainly isn’t something you’re above, he supposes.

“Will I have the luxury of ruling by your side as your trusty sidekick?” You play along. It seems to please the dragon, earning a haughty laugh.

“I suppose you can have a small corner to call yours,” he agrees, “just make sure you push that slimy, slithering, miserly worm off a cliff and I’ll allow it.”

You glance over at Kinich as soon as the words are uttered by the obnoxious loud mouth beside you, and he can feel the last of his veins snap—that is, until you smile, giving him a playful wink.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you giggle.

“See?” Ajaw turns to look at him, making Kinich’s eye twitch ever so slightly. “You should be more like this one! The Almighty Dragonlord—h-huh? Hey!”

“Kinich!” You scold, watching as Ajaw cuts himself off with a scream, flying off into the distance from one irritated flick of Kinich’s fingers.

“What?” He huffs, crossing his arms as you throw your head back and laugh.

“You’re cute, you know. When you get like that.”

“Like what?” It comes out as a grumble. A rather petulant one, at that—he almost cringes hearing it in his own tone.

He knows what you mean, too. You know he does, so you reach over to ruffle his hair as his lips curl into a deeper frown. It’s not lost on you, however, that he almost seems to lean into your touch, almost seems to savor the feeling of your palm against his head.

“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” you tease. “Adorable, you know? Seeing you sulk is a bit rare.”

“I was not sulking,” he protests. That, of course, pulls a laugh out of you that makes him sulk even harder. “And I’m not jealous. Being jealous of Ajaw is absurd.”

“Oh but I think you were,” you nudge his shoulder, lips stretching into a knowing grin as he grunts. “Don’t worry, I’d never push you off a cliff.”

“That’s because you’d never manage to,” he shrugs. You give him a playful scowl as you huff, you don’t know that, under your breath. He fights back an amused smile, trying to keep his seriousness in tact. “Have you had enough fooling around? We have a commission to complete. You’re going to make me lose out on mora.”

“Is that so?” You say thoughtfully.

By now, Kinich knows that face. It’s not a very welcomed face, either—it means trouble for him. Some form of scheming on your end that almost always ends with you getting what you want, and almost always ends with him walking away as a loser of sorts. It’s his own fault, of course. Being powerless against your charms is a weakness he’s not entirely managed to overcome yet.

But he’s trying—and he’ll get it one day. He’s sure of it.

“I don’t like that face,” he says dryly, eyeing you cautiously.

“What face?” You gasp, mock innocence feigned even as the mischief creeps into your eyes. He can see it. Sense it. Feel it. Almost like he can tell a foe is coming even before they strike—it’s a practiced precision of sorts.

“That face you make when you’re up to something. I can tell you have something up your—”

You cut him off with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making him go silent almost instantly. A small part of him can feel his cheeks burn, but the bigger part of him melts before he can even comprehend it.

“What if I paid you a better price,” you murmur, “and commissioned some of your time?”

A hand trails up his chest, rubbing slowly against the expanse of it over his shirt, stopping just over his heart. Evil, he wants to tell you, how evil you are to rest your palm right over his erratic heart.

Like you sense the pounding beat, you grin sweetly.

“You’ll need a better price than that,” he mumbles quietly when he finally finds his voice, clearing his throat subtly.

“Haggling over prices with me?” You pout. “Not even I can get a discount.”

“Of course not,” he says stubbornly. A strong arm wraps around you, pulling you against his sturdy chest as you bite back a grin. “I only accept offers with appropriate prices.”

“Fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes in defeat, leaning in to press a firm peck to his lips. “Will that cover it?”

“Not quite,” his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer. So close, you think his lips could knock into yours from a gentle breeze alone.

But he’s still. Patient. Painfully observant as his eyes stare into you and wait for what he wants—and, well, Kinich always gets his asking price. One way or another, he never walks away short of a single mora.

Or kiss.

So you lean in, pressing your mouth to his as your hands cup his face, tracing the skin above his cheekbone delicately as he sighs softly. His eyes flutter closed, and briefly, he thinks how nice it is when it’s just you. And him. And no Ajaw.

He should keep it like that more often.

He needs it, you think. Needs to feel you up close and personal, needs to know you’re here and staying, needs to know you’re his and only his.

He lets out a soft sound of protest when you finally break away, earning a quiet chuckle from you before you plant a sweet kiss to his jaw.

“How was that?” You whisper, kissing along his jawline, earning a small shiver of approval from him. “Was that payment enough?”

“I suppose for now,” he mumbles.

“Now you’re just being greedy,” you tease, grinning against his skin.

But you know as well as he does, you’re than happy to afford his prices. And then some, too. You’re as generous about spending as he is enthusiastic with taking.

“Or maybe you’re just being stingy,” he shoots back. With a fond shake of your head, your lips are back on his, cradling his face as he leans into you until he can’t tell where you start and where he ends.

It’s hard not to give into your charms, but he’s not so sure it’s a losing battle. It feels suspiciously close to a win, in fact—that is, if Ajaw stays far, far away. (And again, it would be nice if it was not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis.)

He’s sooooo cute and his backstory literally haunts me I want to kiss him so bad you guys don’t get it. I was supposed to skip him but 173 wishes later I now have a c4 diluc and a c0r1 kinich 🥹

#writing tag #kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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punkshort · 3 months ago

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First Impressions

Thanks anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk

WC: 4.2K

Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.

So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.

Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.

You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.

Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.

While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.

Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?

He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.

Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.

Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.

He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.

Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.

Then you saw him.

Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.

When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.

He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.

"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"

You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"

He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"

You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."

Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"

You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.

"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."

"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.

"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.

"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."

Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.

"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."

A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"

Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.

"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."

"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."

Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"

Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.

"I mean, for the heater."

"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.

"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.

"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."

"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."

He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.

"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."

Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"

"Nothing I wasn't used to."

He couldn't argue with that.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.

He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"

You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.

"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."

You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.

"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."

Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"

He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."

Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"

"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."

Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.

Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."

"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.

"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."

You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.

Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.

You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.

"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"

You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.

He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.

"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.

"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.

"No, I think that'll do it."

"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."

You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.

"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"

You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."

He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."

Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."

"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.

He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.

"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.

Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.

He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.

You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."

He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.

"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."

"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."

Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."

You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.

But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.

When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.

"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"

You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.

"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.

"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."

He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.

"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.

"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.

"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.

He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.

"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.

"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.

"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.

The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.

Still got it.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.

"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.

"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"

You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."

You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.

"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.

"I need a haircut."

"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.

"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"

"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.

"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller the last of us #joel x reader smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #fic request

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ennabear · 2 months ago

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i beg of you to write more mean abby.. i reread all of ur mean abby works religiously i swear i just love her too much ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ NONNIEEEEE STOP THIS JS TOO SWEET!!!! IM BLUSHING IM BLUSHING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! sorry this is a lil bit messy, i haven’t really had time to lock in on anything official I HOPE THATS OKAY!!!! here are some thoughts… 18+

i think mean!abby is one of those people who are discreetly rich. she’s not the type of person to go on big fancy vacations, or buy expensive sports cars, or to always have the newest technology. before she met you, she probably spent most of her money on books or expensive brands of tea imported from countries she’s never even heard of. after she met you, though? she’d swipe her card a million times a day to see you smile.

the best way i can describe her personality is like some old cranky grandpa, the scary guy on the block who never smiles but is very confrontational. if you’ve seen her around, you’d know that she’s always wearing a scowl, only leaves her penthouse apartment early to go to the gym, and has beef with most of her neighbors. but if you know know her? she’s a sweetie pie. she loves spontaneous sweet treats, slow dancing to 70’s music, old horror films (mean!abby letterboxd goes CRAZY i just know), and most shockingly, her cats.

and she LOVES those fuckers. it’s so perfect how she can have a companion who’s quiet and small and independent, and two of them? barely any responsibility. they have an automatic feeder, entertain each other, and only bug her about once a day for attention.

as for her job, i could see her having two possibilities. one being an extreme workaholic. maybe an office job or a surgeon or something?? (NOT a nurse because they’re supposed to be good at talking to people…) OR she only really works part time, some freelance job that doesn’t really have any rules. a photographer or a tattoo artist or some sort of small business that she can mostly manage on her own. money has never been an issue for her, coming from a family of doctors. her ass was spoiled rotten as a kid, and after her dad died she inherited all of that money.

she’s the biggest protector in the world. someone was talking shit about you? she’s breaking their nose right now actually. i think the biggest reason she’s “mean” is because she actually just has anxiety. the last time she felt a love this strong, it was for her dad. she can’t afford to lose you like she lost him, so she always has to make sure you’re safe and sound. it’s not like she’s trying to be controlling by texting you every half hour, she just worries that maybe she won’t be able to protect you for once, and it’ll be at the worst possible time.

ok lock in here are some nsfw thoughts :3

you know that trope that’s like “big mean stoic character is actually the subbiest bottomest little puppy in the whole world.” yeah…. if you don’t agree what are you still doing here.

it definitely took her a while to be this vulnerable, but jesus christ is it worth it!!! the way you get to watch her squirm and whimper underneath you, knowing that you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. to give your big protective guard dog girlfriend a night off, to take care of her in return for all that she does for you.

and she lovessss being tied up!!!! something about the intimacy of knowing you’re gonna give her a good time makes her submit to you almost instantly. she has to trust you on this, has sit back and relax and let her brain melt because she physically can’t do anything about it.

when she does dom i imagine she’s a pretty big brat tamer. c’mon, not everyone has the luxury of having a girlfriend like her. if you don’t act grateful she’ll whip you in to shape. literally. she’s not afraid of a good spanking.

also she’s strapped up 24/7 but this is canon in every universe… no matter what she’s doing or where she’s going or who she’s gonna meet, the strap stays ON!!! just in case she may need it….

but she’s the aftercare QUEEN. of course. apart from the basics like food, water, cuddles, etc. she has tonssss of knowledge on proper aftercare. you’d never have to worry about being hurt or getting a uti or feeling unloved because she’s read every forum to exist about aftercare!!! i just know this bitch runs a tumblr kink blog like it’s the military… 🤦

that’s all…. going to eep now……

#sorry for neglecting y’all… i’ve been busy please forgive me #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us

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bea-does-stuff · 4 months ago

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𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐇𝐒𝐑 𝐱 𝐘𝐍)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 696

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘿𝙧 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙮𝙣'𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 ^^

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

Arguments with him are nothing less than common, with his genius complex and snappy attitude, you both end up initiating an argument about something neither of you truly care for, and of course, you're the one who usually ends up apologising, even when he was in the wrong

This being said, one time, there was one time, he went too far

“God! I truly wonder how you manage to exist and function with that sad excuse of a brain!” veritas snapped, you were use to him saying stuff like that, and you knew he never truly meant them, but it was getting so repetitive you had enough

You didn't even bother responding, you simply slammed the door and headed outside for a break, and as for veritas, he probably cooled himself off with a relaxing bath

It was only when he was done destressing, when he realised the horrible way he spoke to his dearest partner

Upon your arrival, he initially tried to give you space, he stayed in his library reading, as you did your own thing, but the guilt stabbing through his chest slowly became too intense for him, and he quickly rushed to where you were

“Dearest,” he mumbled, you didn't give him an answer, he didn't deserve it

He huffed at your comment and left house, which left you stunned initially, until he returning home with a bag full of your favourite foods, as well as flowers and a plush of your favourite animal

It was so clique, but he didn't know much about this topic, he was always superior, he never had a need to apologise to others, but he wanted to apologise to you, out of respect for you

You sighed and nodded “its fine, veritas” he looked away, scoffing as his cheeks bloomed a faded pink

“Good. that is good.” he whispered, you had to know dr ratio pretty well to sense the relief in his tone

“I must say, this is a very thoughtful way of apologising, 5 points” you teased, he rolled his eyes, fighting back the small smile crawling up his face

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

He is prideful, very prideful, and when he has an opinion, he leaves no room for others input or objectively wrong opinions, which makes it almost impossible for him to apologise

Arguments with him feel like speaking to a wall, on very rare occasions will he say anything, almost making it seem like this situation was…meaningless to him, like your feelings were meaningless to him

This one day made you snap, and you actually began to sob quietly while you were arguing

This made him glance back at you, a look of surprise and…dread on his face

“My angel…” he mumbled, but you rushed out before he could say another word, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts

Despite being a cold, rational and controlling serafin, he is a very paranoid individual, and his mind began to flood with possibilities of you leaving him behind to find someone better, or thoughts of you growing to hate him and seeing him as the control freak others label him as.

Because of this, he let you have your space, and spent an hour or two asking his dear sister robin for advice, she was a lot more well versed in tending to people's feelings and apologising for making someone hurt

Once robin was done lecturing his brother, sunday returned to the house, finding you buried under a layer of cushions and blankets

“Angel…i…” he took a deep breath and looked at you with those…piercing yellow eyes

“The way…that i disregarded your feelings…it..it was unacceptable and cruel” you slightly lifted the blanket on your face, staring at him, still slightly upset

“I…deeply apologise, you don't deserve such cruelty from a man who dares call himself your lover”

You sighed, a sad yet relieved smile on your face “you apologising is a strange occurrence, so i know you mean it”

He brought you to his arms, his wings fluffing up due to how happy he was to have finally worked up the courage to apologize and make you smile

Robin would indeed be proud

#fluff #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #dr ratio hsr #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #sunday #sunday hsr #sunday fluff #sunday x reader #hsr angst #angst #angst to fluff #comfort #hsr comfort #gn reader

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sinizade · 11 months ago

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Izveta Noquar

Class: Rogue

Dark Urge (Evil but "redeemed")

Romance: Astarion (Ascended)

Besties: Why does she need friends if she has her own company? (Shadowheart is her bestie)

Being the youngest adopted daughter of the prestigious Noquar family in Menzoberranzan, Izveta was able to surpass the matriarch's biological daughters in any aspect, battles or manipulations. The drow had a natural talent for killing ever since she first held a weapon, the family's only concern about the girl was her constant conversations with a butler who seemed like only she could see, but often some other drow could see a small shadow next to her, almost as if whispering in her ear.

Her first love was the first person Izveta killed, a handsome young elf with beautiful green eyes almost the same age as her who was given to her as a gift by her mother. The young drow really thought he loved her the way she loved him, but she discovered the hard way that it was all just cruel manipulation for him to try to kill her and escape... What he didn't expect was that it would be a trigger for something cruel and bloodthirsty to awaken in Izveta who hunted him like an animal and slit his throat completely, leaving him unrecognizable...

Izveta ended up finding out from her butler that her sisters planned to kill her to reduce the matriarch's chances of choosing Izveta to replace her as head of the family. The young drow, possessed by anger and a feeling of betrayal, slew her sisters, showing them both to her mother like a trophy, but she didn't react as Izveta expected... The woman who raised her all her life tried to kill her and was once again overcome by hatred, Izveta killed her own mother, afraid of the reaction of the other drow, she fled to the surface where her butler constantly talks about a place she could actually consider a real home, where she would be accepted and loved for who she truly is

Getting used to the surface culture was one of the biggest difficulties for Izveta, not having males to satisfy her whims or soldies to do as she commanded was a reality check. The males on the surface were not as submissive and obedient as those who served her in Menzoberranzan and this ended up involving her in several fights in the places where she managed to stay, but it wasn't long until she finally found that place her butler talked about, her home, The Temple of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder... Her father. She didn't like her father's temple, it wasn't quite what she imagined as she thought it would be something grand like a castle or a fortress, but it fit with the cliche "I am a homicidal God"

Baldur's Gate was truly a lovely city, so full of light and life, Izveta simply loved walking through the dark alleys looking for some clueless person who would follow her wherever she took them, so that was when she met that dark-haired human man who He wasn't looking at her with fear, but curiosity and even perhaps admiration? Izveta didn't know for sure, but receiving that look after so long made her interested in knowing more about this human, knowing more about this "Enver Gortash"

The years after meeting Enver seemed to improve her mood. Izveta might have loved killing, feeling the hot blood on her hands, but she loved even more being pampered, receiving gifts, ordering and having her carpices supplied whenever she wanted and Enver made a point of doing all of this for her, giving some small gifts like rings, necklaces, masks... Izveta LOVES masks. Even though vanity is not something much used either in the Bhaal temple or by his followers, Izveta always loved simply beautifying herself, makeup, big jewelry, hairstyles for her long white hair, she loved spending minutes and even hours just beautifying herself with makeup or the blood of someone she killed. Enver managed to make her see him as an equal, not just an equal, a potential partner both with this strange plan with a "brain" and in bed, he had a thirst in his eyes, a thirst for her and she would quench that thirst every time he begged for her...

For some reason, losing her memories, even if it caused a certain frustration, at the same time caused relief... Being able to recreate her story without memories of the past to worry about

Some may think that Izveta redeemed herself by denying her "family heritage" by denying Bhaal, but her wave of chaos was just beginning. Astarion may think he controls her, that she is his beautiful spawn waiting only to receive orders from her lord, but something he doesn't even suspect is that he is right in the palm of her hand... A little flattery, a few whispers in his ear, a few touches on his chest and he does exactly what she wants and when she wants, he may not feel anything anymore or maybe feel, but the memories of the love he once felt for her are what give her power. Being a Bhaalspawn may have its advantages, but having the control of an ascended vampire lord was much better and as a vampire spawn everything is even more delicious, an eternity delighting in the death of whoever she wants and without any consequences... No There's nothing more she wants

Some extra information about Izveta

She loves white, she loves seeing the white of her clothes stained with blood, she loves seeing how her skin is highlighted while wearing white, she simply loves the color white.

She felt a little sorry for Orin, her little blood kin might be a kinda crazy, but she wasn't a bad person... At least not before her mother tried to kill her.

The only bad thing about denying her "father" was losing Sceleritas... Her butler, her true father... one of the few creatures she truly felt affection for

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lanawinterscigarettes · 6 months ago

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More Important (Greg House x reader x James Wilson)

Summary: you not feeling well is far more important than work in your boyfriends' eyes

Warnings: the reader is sick/doesn't feel good but it isn't specified the reason why so it's pretty much up for interpretation, House and Wilson are both loving and worried boyfriends, kind of hurt/comfort given the themes, brief and mild swearing, they/them pronouns are used to refer to the reader one (1) time in a gender neutral manner

A/N: I felt awful when I woke up the other day and when I went back to sleep I had a dream with House and Wilson that ended up inspiring this fic

When you woke up that morning, every muscle in your body ached as if someone had dropped a sack of bricks on you while you slept. As much as you wanted to just stay in bed, you unfortunately had to get up to use the bathroom.

House was still asleep next to you, letting out the occasional peaceful snore despite the time indicating he'd be late for work if he didn't wake up soon. Not that he cared.

Wilson was already up and ready, from what you could tell. That assumption was later confirmed when you stumbled to the bathroom, the sight before you making it seem as though your boyfriend was being serenaded by the sound of the blow dryer as he fixed his hair.

"Are you almost done? I need the bathroom," you mumbled groggily, leaning up against the side of the doorframe while you waited for him to finish.

"Well, good morning to you, too," He responded in a voice that was far too chipper for your taste given how early it was. "And yeah, almost." He shut off the blow dryer and turned to face you, his big brown eyes studying you with a slight look of concern. Being a doctor, of course he could recognize when something was physically wrong.

"Are you okay?" He tentatively asked, trying to approach the subject in a delicate manner. After all the time he'd spent with House he knew not everyone wanted to talk about their feelings or even admit when something was wrong.

"Yeah, 'm fine. Jus' have a slight headache." Technically it wasn't a full lie, as your head did hurt, but you were greatly underexaggerating the pain level in hopes he wouldn't worry.

Big mistake. Almost as soon as you shut the bathroom door did Wilson turn and head towards the bedroom with the full intent of waking up your other boyfriend.

By the time you were done, both House and Wilson were standing close together, presumably discussing your supposed symptoms, even if you couldn't hear what they were saying.

"I know you guys are talking about me," you grumbled out the accusation while shuffling back over to the bed. Wilson looked a bit guilty to be talking about something involving you behind your back, but House just seemed amused you still had the energy required to dish out snark despite not feeling good.

"Whatever led you to that conclusion?" House asked rhetorically. "We very well could've been discussing what traffic will be like on the way in to work, or our favorite romantic movies." At that, Wilson rolled his eyes in annoyance. House ignored him, finishing with, "Not everything is about you, y'know."

"Don't play dumb with me," was the only thing you could manage to get out as a response given how tired you were. Collapsing onto the bed, you curled under the covers in hopes that maybe all you needed was a couple hours of extra sleep.

Too exhausted for your brain to work properly, you only picked up bits and pieces of their conversation. From what you could tell, they were trying to decide whether or not they should stay home from work to look after you, and if so who it should be out of the two of them.

"I'll stay here with them. Just tell Cuddy I can't come in today because of a medical emergency," House offered while glancing over at your blanket clad form. As much as he acted like he didn't care, he didn't enjoy seeing you in pain, even if it was over something small.

"Are you sure?" Wilson questioned, just to double check in case he wanted to change his mind.

House nodded his head to confirm, uttering "yeah, I'm sure" in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You heard the sound of footsteps approaching, feeling as Wilson leaned down to press a kiss to your face, murmuring the words "I have to go to work, but I'll be back soon". You just nodded, too weak to say anything more than a quiet "love you".

After he left, House made his way back over to the bed, gently nudging what he assumed to be your leg with his cane. "Move over," he commanded in his usual gruff manner that led little room for argument.

Obliging, you shifted over on the bed, giving him the space to lay down in his normal spot. "Sorry."

He let out a sigh as he got on the bed, feeling a little bad he was so rude given just how pathetic you looked. "It's fine."

The two of you were quiet for a moment before you spoke up again, your voice sounding a little hoarse. "I'm sorry you got stuck here with me. I'm sure you'd rather be doing anything else other than this."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, hearing you say that hurt his heart a little. Then again, he couldn't necessarily blame you for thinking that. "Not true. Why would I want to be in a hospital full of sick people I don't even like when I could be with only one sick person I can at least tolerate?"

You let out a snort of laughter, fully recognizing the jest in his tone. He obviously cared, the grumpy bastard, even if he didn't show it very often.

He felt accomplished when he heard your laugh, continuing in a softer and more genuine tone. "Besides, some things are more important, anyway."

"Mhm." Humming softly in agreement, you moved closer to him on the bed until your head was resting against his shoulder, making sure to give him the space to get up and stretch his leg if he needed to later on. "I love you."

A faint smile formed on his face at your words, one of his arms reaching over to wrap around you protectively. "I know." It was his own way of showing his love for you without having to say the words.

Feeling comfortable and safe in his arms, you must've dozed off because the next thing you remembered was being woken up by the sound of a door opening and shutting.

"Could you be any louder?" House's irritated voice rang out through your ears, the sound not being entirely unpleasant even if it did manage to wake you up more.

"Sorry," you heard Wilson apologize in a hushed tone. There's no way it was evening already, which meant he must've gotten off work early.

"What are you doing back here?" You called out, your voice sounding tired yet curious. "You're supposed to still be at work."

"I couldn't stay knowing you were home sick," he responded as he slipped under the covers next to you, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes first.

"Oh, sure, just forget all about me," House complained in mock offense, something that Wilson chose to outrightly ignore.

"But the hospital- I mean, you're the head of oncology, you can't just-"

"Some things are more important," Wilson gently cut off your worries, his hand reaching out to rest on top of yours.

"Hm, that sounds familiar," you muttered while giving House a look that said 'I know you two have been talking about me again'. He looked back as if he had no clue what your deal was.

"Go back to sleep, honey. We'll both still be here when you wake back up." It was hard to ignore the command of the oncologist next to you, especially when he spoke in such a low and soothing way.

"Okay," you agreed without a fight, snuggling comfortably into the arms of your two boyfriends as you closed your eyes and allowed sleep to overtake you yet again, starting to feel a lot better already.

End notes: I feel like I'm not very good at writing fics with poly couples which is a damn shame because I really love doing it </3

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

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sugrhigh · 2 months ago

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BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #hockey!chris #hockey au #sturniolo fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic

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bluejutdae · 9 months ago

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Insomniacs | Bang Chan x you

synopsis: Chan is your roommate and you both have trouble with insomnia

Another sleepless night. Another night of tossing and turning. Another headache that you can feel starting at the back of your head. There’s really no point in staying in bed anymore, but you have to be quiet cause your roommate is maybe asleep, and you don’t wanna risk waking him up.

You wander through the apartment and end up in the kitchen, maybe some chamomile tea would help? After you heard noises from Chan’s room, too loud to be just him moving in his sleep, it’s easy to decide to make two cups and leave his on the kitchen table.

On nights like this, standing up is a chore. You’re tired to the bones, but your brain doesn’t seem to have received the message: awake, loud and a bit mean, it’s more awake than ever. Just few minutes later, your hear soft steps getting closer, and Chan finds you sitting on the kitchen floor. Your back to the cabinets door, warm mug between your hands, a warm substitute for real affection.

“No sleep tonight, uh?” Chan grabs his mug and raises it in a mock toast in your direction. He then sits at your side, knee knocking in yours and his head hits with a soft thud the kitchen furniture. You answer with a quiet hum and a shake of your head.

“Wanna talk about it?” You can’t help a smile from appearing on your face. Chan is always so gentle, so caring, that falling deep for him was way too easy and natural. “There’s not much to talk about. What about you?”

“Bad dream. Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you wanna talk?”

The two of you do this sometimes, you sit on the floor and talk about everything and nothing. There are only few things you’ll never tell each other: you’re never confessing to him, he’s never telling you he’s felt alone for so long before you arrived, you’re never telling him he’s the best part of your life.

He nods and sips his chamomile. “I heard sharks likes to be pet by subs.” One topic is as good as the other, but it gets the conversation started…

[…]

It’s hours later when he says: “…and so they broke up”, he concludes the story about a couple of his friends and their messy romance.

“That’s sad, tho. The idea of loving someone so much but not being able to be with them.” You’re looking in front of you, Chan’s face on the left of your visual field. You know what’s like to love someone but not being with him, watching him and being happy about his accomplishments but only doing it as a friend, as a roommate.

“Mh”, he nods and picks at the skin of his thumb with his teeth. “That sucks, you’re right. I hope they’ll manage to solve their problems and finally be happy.” With his head still resting on the cabinet’s door, he turns it towards you. “Are you happy?”

Your first instinct is to scoff. Your second instinct is to cry. Are you happy? What are you gonna answer Chan?

“I don’t know.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not sure he heard you. You’re about to drop the subject when he makes an inquisitive sound. Have you always been weak in front of Chan? Have you always given him all he asked for? “I don’t know, Chan. I have pretty much everything I need, I should be happy, right? I have a decent job, a pretty apartment, friends, health…” your sentence hangs incomplete. You know what is missing, but you can’t say it.

How do you tell your roommate you love him? How do you tell him you’d be happy if he were yours? How do you tell someone they’re the reason you keep smiling day by day without weighting them of the burden, the responsibility? And even if you were brave enough (and selfish enough) to tell him, then what if he doesn’t reciprocate and you lose him?

“It’s okay to want more.” Too kind, too good.

“What about you?” You ask, maybe he’ll forget your words.

“Are you asking me if I’m happy or if I want more?” What are you asking? You’re not sure, so you shrug, letting him pick for you. “I am happy.” he says, and then Chan does something that in all the late night talks you shared he has never done: he reaches for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. His palm is warm against yours, bigger, you can feel his callous on his fingers. “I could be happier,” he continues. “I want more, too.”

How can something so simple as holding hands make your heart race? Why are you suddenly so warm and happy? “It’s okay to want more” you repeat his words.

Chan’s face opens up in a beautiful smile and you blush so hard you can only hide your face, letting your head rest on his shoulder, hands still clasped together.

Later, you’ll kiss. Later, you’ll both confess, reciprocated feeling and plans for the future. Later, you’ll decide to make it official, so there’ll never be misunderstandings in this. But for now, the sun rising catches you unmoved. Hands clasped, heads resting close and you both asleep. You’re gonna regret falling asleep sitting in the kitchen floor, but this was the best late night talk for you two, so a cricked neck and achy asses are worth it.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan fluff #Thiana writes Chan

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permanentmess · 2 months ago

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pacman (peter maximoff x mutant!fem!reader)

a/n: i had this idea after i bought a handheld pacman game. reader in this has powers that allow her/them to control and create technology. basically has mechanical mastery but like as a power. no set time period for this really, but peter and reader are in their 20s

warnings: none! just fluff, mild language, mentions of one minor injury. angst if you squint

summary: reader notices that peter gets bored often and decides to make him a gift

word count: 974

GIF NOT MINE

~~~

It had taken hours to create it. You spent so much time holed away in a tiny lab area that you were given to practice your powers. Hank practically begged you to leave and interact with someone other than him because of how long it had taken.

All the little things you had begun to notice about Peter Maximoff were piling up in your mind. It had gotten to the point where journaling was almost making it worse, and Jean and Charles kept looking at you with pleading looks in their eyes. They’d chastise you in your head, telling you to just tell him so your brain could quiet down.

Not in the mood to ruin the vibe the school had going though, you stuck to your details that you kept safely guarded in your heart. How he’d fidget, his favorite games, the movies he’d stand and watch while getting side tracked in the lounge, the bands he loved, and the boredom he inevitably got 5 minutes into a plane ride to a mission.

You smiled as you boxed your creation and put it safely in your room.

…..

“Peter!” you call out to him when you see him in the hallway later that week. You were done teaching for the day and you knew he was too. He looks up from the paper a student was showing him and nods at the kid, sending him on his way.

“Hey! What’s going on?” he says, speeding up to you and brushing against your side. You both start walking in sync to the dining area.

“Just got done teaching for the day,” you say quickly. “Listen, I have something for you.”

He lights up a little. “What is it? Tell me, tell me-”

You laugh at him. “Hold on a minute, geez. We gotta eat dinner first, and then you can have it.” You arrive at the dining room and stop at the end of the line.

He groans dramatically and you laugh. “You’re so mean to me, and for what? Can I have a hint at least?” He hands you a plate before grabbing one for himself.

“Hmm,” you pretend to ponder as you scoop food onto your plate. “Nope.” You look at him with a playful smile on your face as he pouts at you.

The times you laughed the most are when you were with Peter. Your face usually hurts after you guys hang out, and that was pretty much everyday since you arrived at the school. Even when he accidentally bruised your foot from running over it so fast, he still managed to make you laugh in an effort to apologize.

You both sit down to eat. “You’ll live.”

He barely makes it through dinner. You’re surprised he doesn’t super speed you to your room once you put your plates away. He is practically dragging you there though.

Once you make it to your room, you purposely start moving slowly to unlock the door. He playfully smacks your arm and you laugh at him, moving at a normal speed (well, for you that is).

“Okay, you have to sit patiently and wait,” you say, gesturing to your bed. “I have to grab it from where I hid it.”

He snorts but obliges. You raise your eyebrows to make sure he stays while you open your dresser drawer, reaching under a shirt to grab out the small box.

“I spent a lot of time making this, which is where I’ve been disappearing to lately. If it breaks just let me know.” You’re shaking a little bit, heart rate slowly getting higher. You hope he doesn’t notice as you hand him the box.

He looks up at you with soft eyes before he opens it. Despite his super speed, he opens the box slowly and unwraps the gift. He gasps.

“No fucking way. Is this what I think it is?” You let a small smile seep through on your face as you nod. “How did you do this? Holy shit, wait, you made this?”

You grin, finally relaxing a little now that you know he likes it. “The hardest part was the plastic but I had Hank and Xavier help a little bit. That’s why I asked you if I could look at your PacMan machine though.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, he’s standing up and pulling you in for a tight hug. You’re taken aback but quickly relax into it, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He pulls back after a minute, still holding you slightly in his arms.

“I’m really glad you like it. I know how much you like that game, so I figured you could use a smaller version instead of having to go to yo-" You’re cut off when Peter’s lips attach to yours.

Despite your shock, you melt into the kiss almost immediately. He pulls you closer by your hips once you relax, and you reach up to run your hands through his hair. He sighs and pulls back once you do, resting his forehead against yours with his eyes shut. You both catch your breath for a moment.

“Sorry, I-”

“Maximoff, why are you apologizing for kissing me?” He smiles at that, pressing another quick peck to your lips.

“I guess I should say sorry for not doing it sooner.” He’s running his thumbs along the side of your hips, causing you to shiver. “Are you cold?”

“No. Unless it gets me one of your hoodies. In that case, yes.” He laughs at you and pulls you in, cradling your head against his chest. You wrap your arms around him again, content with just standing here like this.

“You can have as many as you want.” He pauses for a moment. “You want to cuddle in one while I try this thing out?”

“Hell yeah.”

#peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #xmen #peter maximoff fluff #quicksilver fluff #xmen x reader

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comet-forgot-you · 10 months ago

Note

need some vampire amber freeman x human reader smut

ily for this omg

teeth

vampire!amber freeman x human!reader

summary: your girlfriend is gone for a week and d shows up with what you think is a shitty excuse.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, oral, biting, blood sucking, needy top!amber, i think thats all.

a/n: what if i said i love twilight, what then. idk this is kinda silly at beginning and end but it gets the tiniest bit intense. do not repost for any reason.

amber had been gone for over a week without reaching out to you for an explanation. a week of you checking her location, spamming her phone, calling nonstop. it wasn’t like her, she could barely go an hour without talking to you let alone an entire week.

you wanted needed her to say something, anything. whether it was over between the two of you, an explanation from her telling you why she had been gone for so long without an explanation, hell even a simple “hey” would do, you just missed her and needed her to say something.

you spent your nights on the couch, attempting to drown out your racing thoughts with the sound of the tv. even that barely managed to soothe the nonstop thoughts of amber’s whereabouts or whatever reasoning your brain could possibly think of to explain her absence.

a knock interrupted your thoughts, you glance away from the tv. whoever it was would have to come back tomorrow. it was late and you had no interest in opening that door. a minute passes before more frantic knocks come from the door. you groan, pulling yourself from the couch and follow the sounds of insistent knocking on the door. you look through the peep hole and relief floods your body.

amber

its amber.

holy shit its amber.

you make quick work of unlocking the door, allowing yourself to be face to face with the girl. her jaw clenches the second you open it. she’s beautiful, skin clear of any blemishes it held before.

“what the fuck?” your mouth acts before your brain can stop it. amber’s eyes are darker than their usual color, eyes softening the moment the words leave your lips. “where the fuck have you been? you don’t text me, you don’t call me, you just disappear for a week, what the fuck?” your voice rises with every word and amber winces.

“baby, please. js’ lemme explain. can i come in?” you let out a huff of air, standing back to widen the door. amber stays still, eyes darting around the entrance of your home.

“you just gonna stand there? come in,” you say, raising your eyebrows at her random hesitation. she comes in, standing behind you as you shut and lock the door.

“sorry, just,” she lets out a huff of air, “nervous,” she finishes, fiddling with her hands. you turn to face her. shes so pretty and god did you miss her. you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder. her body is tense underneath your arms. shes still, her arms make no move to wrap around you, shes just still. hell you’re not even sure she’s breathing.

“where the fuck have you been amber,” you say, pulling away from you.

“i didnt think it was real,” she mumbles, taking a step back. your eyebrows furrow. “thought they were joking and then they fucking did it and now..” she trails off, looking around the room for a brief moment.

“who did what? what was real?” you ask, her attention returns back to you.

“im a vampire.” you cant help the laugh that leaves your throat.

“yeah fucking right. you leave for a week with no reasoning and the best excuse you can come up with is that you’re a vampire? are you fucking kidding me? if you needed space, amber, you could’ve just said that, you didnt have to make an excuse up, a dumb one at that.” you shake your head, brushing past the dark haired girl. she’s quick to follow after you.

“im not joking. i know it sounds stupid, i just, i don’t fucking know. i just wanted to go to that stupid concert with tara and a few of her other friends and then someone did something, i don’t even know what happened, all i remember was waking up in the worst pain i’ve ever felt in my life and a thirst that water wasnt helping in the slightest,” the words fall from her lips at a speed you didnt know she could possess. her shoulders were stiff as she paced your living room.

“so, what, you went out and bit someone and said ‘hey, that was pretty good, i think ill do it again.”? do you even hear yourself?” you huff, leaning back into your couch.

“i know it sounds stupid, but its true,” she looks around the room, searching for some way to prove it to you. she takes a seat next to you, “watch,” she opens her mouth, canines growing sharper and longer in seconds and your eyes widen. your fingers move to poke at the sharp ends, a slight hiss coming from your lips the second it pricks your fingers, the smallest drop of blood forming on your finger. amber’s quick to pull your hand away, snapping her mouth shut. her fingers are freezing against your wrist. she takes a deep breath in, eyes closed. “y/n, im sorry, but it, you smell so fucking good,” she mutters, jaw clenching.

“what, a little drop of blood gets you thirsty?” you tease, the droplet of blood falls down your finger. amber’s gaze flickers to you, your eyebrow raises slightly. you shake your hand from her hold and hold her jaw with your opposite hand. “open up,” you mumble. she does exactly that, her jaw falling slack in your hand. you press your bloodied finger against her tongue and her mouth closes. she wastes no time sucking the blood off of your finger. a whine threatens to escape your throat at the sight. you squeeze her face between your hand and she opens her mouth again. you pull your finger from her lips, a whine escaping her throat in the process.

“y/n..” she whimpers, pushing herself closer to your body. “taste s’ good.” she presses her lips against your neck, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you’re certain she can hear it. she pushes you back, settling between your thighs as she litters purplish marks across your skin.

cold hands meet the warm skin of your stomach and you gasp at the chill, arching your back off of the cushions. “you’re hands are so fucking cold,” you hiss, hands flying to tangle in her hair. she hums against your neck, sharp teeth scraping the skin. she presses a thigh against your clothed core, your hips buck into it.

“wanna taste you, baby, please?” you nod frantically and she rips your shirt open, leaving your chest exposed. the sight of her ripping your shirt open had you grinding yourself down on her thigh. amber was never that strong, that needy for you. it sent heat plummeting to the pit of your stomach.

she circles your erect nipples with her tongue, hands moving to remove your pants. “sh-shit amber. so fuckin.. shit.. so fuckin needy.” breathy moans break your words apart, “please.” she pulls back for a split second before shes back on you, both of your pants long gone in that tiny amount of time. “holy shit,” you mumble, arching into her cool thigh. her actions are quick against your body, her mouth on your needy cunt in minutes.

you whine the second her tongue meets your pulsing clit. a cold finger sinks into your greedy hole, a strewn out moan falling from your lips. you two had experimented with ice, but this was a million times better than previous experiences ever were.

she curls her finger in your cunt, tongue circling your clit at a faster pace than shes ever had. she was a lot quicker, and she used it to her advantage. “taste so fucking good,” she moans into your cunt, the added vibration sending a new wave of wetness to soak her finger. she pushes another finger into your soaking cunt, curling and scissoring them into you at an inhumane pace.

“fuuck,” you moan out, arching off of the cushions. it was so much, the way her fingers were fucking into you like she needed your orgasm in order for her to survive had your head spinning. sharp teeth poke your clit and your hips still, the feelings new, and so fucking exciting. her tongue is back on your clit just as fast as it left. your orgasm is fast approaching, heart besting erratically.

“gonna cum, baby? can hear your heart beating s’ fast. its okay, you can cum, want you to cum so bad,” her fingers curl into your cunt perfectly and youre coming against her faster than you ever had, juices coating her cold fingers. she pulls them out, lapping it up quickly with her tongue. she groans at the taste, vibrations causing your body to jerk against her tongue.

she presses kisses against your thighs, teeth scraping against the fat of them. you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as she does her best to keep herself from sinking her teeth into your skin.

“you.. you can bite, ambs,” you mutter. amber looks up at you, rubbing at the skin of your thighs.

“what if it hurts you? i don’t want to hurt you,” her voice is full of emotion, yet so needy. “what if i can’t stop?” the question lingers in the air. what if she cant stop? what if it kills you? its a risk you’re willing to take.

“i trust you.” the words are all it takes for amber to sink her fangs into your thigh. the area burns, your head spinning as she drains blood from your body. a whimper leaves her throat, heat flooding through both of your bodies. it hurts, but at the same time feels so fucking good. your hips buck off of the couch for a split second.

you feel almost light headed, you were losing blood fast. you nudge amber with your other thigh but the girl hardly budges. she glances up at you, eyes dark.

“amber,” you can barely get her name out. she looks almost apologetic. “amber, baby, please,” it seems to pull her from her trance like state. she unlatches herself from your thigh, lapping up the blood that drips out afterward.

“sorry, im sorry, im so sorry,” she mumbles, reaching out to hold your hand. “taste s’ good.” she trails kisses up your body, quiet “im sorrys” falling from her lips after every kiss.

“its okay,” your voice is quiet, eyes tired. she presses a kiss to your lips. “felt kinda good,” you say against her lips. she smiles, pulling away to press kisses around your face. “wait does this mean i cant have garlic anymore?” amber rolls her eyes, smacking your shoulder lightly.

“you can still have garlic you idiot.”

#mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #wlw smut #amber freeman smut #amber freeman #i want amber #amber freeman x reader #amber #scream 2022 #scream smut #scream movie #scream #scream franchise #amber freeman is the loml

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ditzyredrobin · 4 months ago

Text

Tim Drake (The Spleen-Less Wonder)

My second Bad Things Happen square in as many days because I can’t control myself. 😅

Prompt: Bundled Up in Blankets

“Jason, put me down, now!” Tim snaps, trying to wrestle his way out of the blanket burrito he is currently rolled into. He’s currently slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and pissed.

Well, beyond pissed.

Pissed doesn’t even begin to encapsulate the raging fury he’s currently feeling, being carried around like an oversized toddler. He kicks hard at Jason’s chest with his slippered feet, trying to gain some leverage to escape.

Jason isn’t even phased at his wriggling and kicking, he just keeps walking up the driveway. “What did I tell you, kid? Fuck around and find out.”

“It’s not that big a deal, seriously. It’s just a cold.”

It was. He hadn’t even broken 101 degrees yet which was barely even a fever and a total win in his book. If he was careful and took his antibiotics (which he had been, there was a timer set in his phone and everything) it would go away in no time.

“Like I said, you fucked around and now you’re going to find out. You could have stayed home but nooo. Tim Drake, the spleen-less fucking wonder, decided tonight was as good a night as any to hit the streets, never mind the sleet and windchill.” Jason mocks deadpan, renewing his grip. “Suck it up, buttercup. You did this to yourself. Deal with it.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “It’s Wayne.”

Jason pushes right through the front door to the manor without knocking. “What is?”

“My name. It’s not Drake, it’s Wayne.”

When he had been adopted, he’d officially become a Wayne. When he had taken over as CEO of Wayne enterprises after Batman had been lost in time, it only renewed that belief. He was a Wayne through and through and if the tabloids caught wind of his being carted around by strange men, he was going to have to send his publicist an apology bouquet again. And maybe a bottle of wine.

As much as Damian may have been opposed to it, he was a Wayne.

“Always a dramatic little shit,” Jason muttered under his breath. “Look, I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Drake or a Wayne or something else entirely. What I do give a fuck about is someone ruining the lead I’ve been working for over a month because he decided not to stay in bed like he was supposed to.”

“And I’m the one being dramatic?”

“Yeah, you are. You know, I’m really glad you’re finally taking the time to self reflect. You should try journaling or some shit when you’re feeling big feelings instead of passing out and nearly braining yourself.”

Really, it hadn’t been that bad. He just needed a minute to sit and then he would have been fine. If Jason hadn’t overreacted, he would not have almost lost his lead.

“I did not. I’m fine. Now can you put me down?”

“You passed right the fuck out, Replacement. That sounds pretty bad to me.” Jason says but doesn’t budge.

“Did not.”

“Did to.”

Tim groans, giving one last weak kick. This was getting him nowhere fast other than wanting his bed. The DayQuil and Red Bull were starting to wear off and the drowsiness was setting in again to bone deep exhaustion. The kind that makes him want to curl up for the next 24 hours and just sleep.

Not an option, unfortunately. He had a board meeting in just over six hours. If he manages to go to bed right now, he should still have time to get in a couple of hours of sleep before he needs to get ready.

“Bruce! Get out here and take care of your belongings.” Jason calls into the otherwise silent manor. It was just after six am meaning Bruce wouldn’t have been in bed for very long.

Tim grimaced at the way Jason’s voice echoed through the halls. If Jason’s complete disregard for the alarm didn’t wake him up, his shouting definitely did. “You really don’t have to do this.” He beds quietly, like that would help matters at all.

One could hope.

“Like hell I don’t.” Jason’s snaps back and opens his mouth like he’s going to yell again when Bruce comes running around the corner.

His eyes are panicked and he’s dressed in a robe, the tie is caddywhampus, and honest to god fuzzy bunny slippers. “Jay, what's wrong?” It takes him a long moment to process what he’s holding. “Is that-?”

“Yours.” Jason finishes, meeting Bruce half way. Without warning, he dumps Tim unceremoniously off his shoulders, earning him an indignant squawk.

If it had been anyone other than Bruce, Tim would have worried, bundled up so tight, he couldn’t stop himself before he hit the ground. But this was Bruce after all.

He caught Tim swiftly before he hit the ground, cradling to his chest. “Tim? What’s going on?”

Jason rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Next time, take care of your little birds, or I’m not giving them back. We don’t have any more mishaps do we?”

Bruce grimaces, tightening his grip on Tim, pulling him in just a little closer. “What happened? I thought he was supposed to be in bed last night.”

“He’s here too, you know.” Tim uttered but neither Bruce or Jason didn’t acknowledge him.

“Apparently someone failed to tell him that because one minute he was being an annoying little shit and the next he tried to pass the fuck out in the middle of an op. One I’ve been working for months, mind you.” Jason says. “All I know is if he fucks up like that again, it’ll be on your head. Capeesh?”

Bruce nods solemnly, looking pained. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” Jason says, trying to sound annoyed but there was a fondness in his voice. “Seriously, don’t mention it. Just do better. The kid is an idiot with the self preservation skills of a wet paper bag.”

Bruce sighs, “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” And in a small voice adds, “You know you can stay too. You’re welcome home anytime, Jaylad. Alfred misses you, I miss you.”

“You know this isn’t my home, Bruce. I only came back for the kid.” Jason turns back to the door.

“Maybe so but Alfred is making pot roast on Sunday.”

Jason freezes for a moment. “I’ll…think about it.”

Bruce smiles softly, “I look forward to it. Goodnight, son.”

Jason waves him off and leaves, closing the front door behind him, muttering under his breath. Something about Tim and Bruce not being his dad and roast beef sandwiches.

With Jason gone, the entirety of Bruce’s attention is turned to Tim, examining him with big, blue eyes and a kicked-puppy look. “Did you really almost faint? Be honest with me.”

Tim looks away, feeling his cheeks flush. “Maybe? It really wasn’t that bad. I’m just tired.”

Bruce sighs again (because his sons will be the death of him) and starts towards the cave. “You could have gotten seriously injured if Jason wasn’t there.”

“I know.”

He did. There was just so much to do, he didn’t have time to sit down and rest like a civilian. Crime was an ever present entity—if he didn’t help, people were injured and bodies of the innocent filled the morgues. The bodies of good people with lives and hopes and families and dreams.

What use was he if he couldn’t help?

“Do you, Tim? What would’ve happened if you were by yourself? What if your cold gets worse or turns into pneumonia again?”

“I know,” he says again in a small voice.

He really, truly did, but crime stopped for no one.

Bruce’s sighs exasperated, “You’re benched and staying here until you’re better where Alfred and I can monitor you.”

No, no, no, no, no! He can’t—he won’t.

“You can’t, please, I can’t.” Tim begs.

“You can and you will. I will also be handling the board meeting that mysteriously disappeared from my calendar.” Bruce says, giving him a knowing look.

Tim grimaces, “You noticed?”

“I noticed.” Bruce confirms.

He’s Batman. Of course he noticed.

“And there’s no way I can convince you to change your mind?”

Bruce shakes his head, carrying him not back up the stairs to his room, but the clock and the cave. “Not a chance, bud.”

There was no escaping now, not when Bruce’s mind was made up. If they were heading to the cave, where Alfred must have already been waiting, no doubt with an endless supply of warm blankets and IV fluids. He was sure there would be chicken soup later when it was closer to any normal person's time of day.

Tim leans his head back against Bruce—his father’s—shoulder, letting his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” It’s a small thing but Bruce hears him and hugs him a little closer.

“I know you are. Let’s get you to bed and later we’ll have a long conversation about self care and boundaries, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, already half asleep. He didn’t want to but it was unavoidable. Now he would focus on the gentle sway as he walked, the thrum of his heart in his chest. “Hey dad?”

“Hm? What's up, champ?”

“I love you.”

Bruce chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of his hair. “I love you, too.”

#tim drake #jason todd #my fics #red robin #batfam #batman #bad things happen bingo #tim drakes missing spleen #bruce wayne #bruce is a good dad #jason todd is a good brother #my writing #over 1000 words

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syluscore · 2 years ago

Text

Cameras Pt. 2

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277

PART ONE

Content warnings: smut, sexual content, breaking n entering, stalker leon, obsessed leon, dirty talk, degradation, praise, grinding, slapping, spitting, choking, hair pulling, biting, aggressive sex, very brief mention of wanting to slice reader open and climb inside her, lots of begging, blowjob, throat fucking, taking pictures during sex, fingering, p in v sex, creampie

!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

The water for your shower had been running for a few minutes now, but as you sat on the toilet seat, your mind was elsewhere. Jumbled thoughts and random flashbacks to the past 2 days were consuming you. You’d been home for two hours now and had yet to do anything at all besides think and think. But you had to shower and probably eat something eventually so you opened your phone and connected to your Bluetooth speaker, allowing your brain to get lost in the music. Maybe music could chase the thoughts away, maybe you could have a few minutes of peace.

You stepped underneath the hot water and let out a deep sigh. You let the water wash over your body and focus on the lyrics of the song blaring through the speaker. Slowly washing your body as you swayed to the music. You found yourself mumbling along to the lyrics of the song as you ran shampoo through your hair. All that mattered right now was the music and washing yourself. You’d never taken such a serene fucking shower, but things had gotten weird since what you’d discovered about Leon.

Leon. So much for sweet inner peace. You weren’t any closer to knowing what you were going to do about him. How could you even show your face around the office knowing he’s there? You can’t manage to force yourself to forget about him and trust me when I say you’ve tried. You’ve desperately tried to push the fresh memories to the back of your mind. As time goes on, perhaps you could forget about what happened; or at the very least the memories could become hazy and your brain wouldn’t be plagued with replays of Leon and his cock. How do you forget a cock like that? Now you’re thinking about his cock again. You’re supposed to not be thinking about his cock. Stop thinking about his cock!

You finished washing yourself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself up snugly in a towel. You wiped the fog off the mirror and stared into your reflection. Why was this happening to you of all people? Maybe it wasn’t you specifically after all. It could just be a thing for Leon. He picks someone to obsess over until he’s bored and then moves onto the next fixation. He definitely knew what he was doing with the obsessive stalker shit. He could eventually move on and then you could move on as well. Now that you know about him, he could lose interest in you.

God, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. You hope that isn’t the case? Why the fuck would you hope that’s not the case? This isn’t healthy at all. You hate the way the whole situation is making you feel. Well, hate is a very strong word and Leon doesn’t deserve to be associated with such a word. Uncomfortable? Nerve racking? Uneasy, tense, disturbed? You couldn’t think of a word to describe it. Exhilarating? Intoxicating? Maybe you loved it. Maybe a part of you hated it and the other part, a much bigger part, absolutely loved it in every way. Nobody or anything had ever been so devoted to you. Infatuated with you.

You’re one mentally ill human being. You shook the thoughts from your head as you made your way out of the bathroom. Dinner and some good sleep should help clear your mind. Your thoughts could be factory reset by the morning and you’ll be able to go about your day as if everything is normal. Welcome to the state of Denial, you’ve officially entered. Enjoy your stay with us and please come again. You’re losing your mind, you’ve gone mad.

Upon entering your living room, you came to an abrupt halt. Your heart felt like it almost fell out of your ass and your muscles all tensed up as if preparing for impact. “What the fuck?” you yelled out, “What are you, the fucking cat whisperer?” The man on your couch just chuckled, not even looking up from the book in his hands. One of your cats was cuddled up against his leg and your other cat was on the back of the couch cuddled into his opposing shoulder. “What are you doing here? Is that my book?” you asked Leon.

He shut the book and laid it down on the other cushion on the couch. He looked up at you and replied, “You should really read the next chapter, things are really starting to heat up.” He talked so casually, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. All you could do was stand in place staring at him, eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to make of this situation. “How was your shower?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Good. What are you doing here?”

“We have things to discuss,” he motioned for you to come closer to him, but you refused to move. “Come. Here,” he demanded and you shook your head at him.

“You couldn’t knock?”

“Why would I knock when you know I can just come in? Sounds like a waste of time to me.”

“Because you don’t live here! You could be a nice guy and respect boundaries, although it’s obvious you aren’t very good at that,” you shot him a dirty look and all he did was laugh. Comes into your place unannounced, scares the shit out of you, and he has the audacity to laugh at you. You two stared right at each other. An unspoken staring contest taking place between the two of you. You broke eye contact and sighed, slowly making your way over to sit next to him on the couch.

Leon had other plans, quickly darting his arms out to intercept you. He easily maneuvered you to straddle his thighs, causing you to let out an embarrassing shriek.

“Leon, what the fuck? I’m basically naked! Let me go,” you exclaimed and tried to pull away from him, but he just held onto you tighter. He wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you even closer to him.

“Oh wow, I thought you were fully dressed under your towel. My mistake,” he smirked as you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster with flushed cheeks. “Have you gone all shy on me? But you displayed everything so nicely for me in those photos,” which caused you to avert your eyes away from him, staring at the cushion underneath you.

He grabbed your chin and brought your face back up to his and you couldn’t help but finally take in his appearance. He was wearing a button up shirt with the top few buttons undone, exposing the light hair on his chest. The sleeves were pushed up above his elbows, extenuating his huge biceps. He could wrap that bicep around your throat, slowly drain the life from you and you’d die a happy little content slut.

You brought your eyes back up to meet his, but his eyes were wandering elsewhere. His eyes looked across your exposed collarbones, down your arms, exploring the valley of your exposed thighs on either side of him. His eyes devoured you in a way that sent chills down your spine.

He finally met your gaze and you didn’t give yourself time to think before your right hand was raising up to his cheek, gently rubbing it. “You’re a fucking creep,” you said, your eyes never leaving his. Both your hands tangled up into his dirty blond hair as you continued, “What kind of a person breaks into someone’s house and jerks off with their panties? You’re a freak of nature. They should study people like you. What’s wrong with you?” He ground his hips up into you and you could feel his hard cock rubbing against you.

You pulled his hair as he brought his mouth to your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. You had to fight back the moan that threatened to spill past your lips. He brought his mouth right up against your ear and spoke, “What kind of slut gets turned on by such behavior, huh?” You slowly start grinding yourself against his jeans, your exposed cunt making contact with his covered cock. You pulled your hands away from him, causing him to pull his mouth away from your ear and lean back so he could look at you.

You don’t know what came over you, but you pulled your dominant hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. “Anyone turned on by what you do is fucking deluded,” you told him as his hands pushed your towel up past your hips. His hands gripped so tightly into your hips you knew there’d be marks. You felt like your pelvis might snap in half between the pressure of his hands, but fuck did it make you so uncontrollably wet.

“What was I supposed to do? The second I laid my eyes on you I couldn’t think of anything fucking else. I was jerking my cock what seemed like every hour for weeks after meeting you. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to slice you open, climb inside your body, and fucking live there. But I obviously can’t do that, so I climbed inside your house, surrounding myself with your things, learned everything there was to know about you, so at the very fucking least I could be inside your mind,” he said as you two grinded into each other like your lives depending on it.

He continued, “I watched you install your stupid cameras and do you think I gave a shit? I put on a show for you so that I could overtake your fucking mind like you did mine. I’ve been watching you for so long, I knew you were a depraved, needy whore. I knew if I showed you the truth it’d make your little pussy wet. You were made for me, fuck, just look at you.” He grabbed the back of your hair and yanked your head back. You couldn't contain it anymore, his words working you up more than you could stand.

Whimpers, gasps, pants, moans, sounds you’d never made before in your life were falling from your lips as you continued getting that sweet friction against your weeping cunt. His hand left your hair and pulled your towel completely off, baring you completely before him. He took one of nipples into his mouth and sucked intensely, like he was a dying man and the only thing keeping him alive was his mouth on your body.

As he sucked on your breast, his eyes rose and stared back into yours. This sudden urge came over you and you let saliva pool in your mouth before spitting it out on his cheek. He stopped the assault on your breast and looked at you with a shocked expression on his face, trying to comprehend what you had just done to him. “You disgust me,” you said before he quickly wrapped his hand around your throat, completely cutting off your air.

Your hand quickly shot up and gripped onto his. You weren’t trying to pull his hand away, oh no, you held his grip tighter. Your reflexes were kicking in, your mouth fell open as your lungs tried to suck in any air they could. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but that didn’t stop you from feeling Leon spit right into your open mouth.

“Fucking look at you taking whatever I’ll give you. You’re a filthy whore and you can’t even help it. You sit here and call me all sorts of names because you love my obsession with you,” he spoke as your face felt on fire and numb at the same time. He let go of your throat and you began to greedily suck in the air you’d been deprived of.

Grabbing you by the shoulders, he pushed you onto the floor on your knees as he stood before you, undoing his belt and jeans letting them fall down until he was just in his boxers before you. Your vision cleared as you looked directly at his hard dick through his briefs. You could see the growing wet spot on them from his precum as he brought his hand to his bulge and started rubbing himself through his underwear.

You looked up with pleading eyes, hoping he’d understand what you so badly wanted to give him, but understanding is not what you got.

“What is it, baby? Is there something you want? We have to ask for things when we want them, that’s a concept you’re familiar with right? Or are you just a stupid slut who expects me to give her whatever she wants without having to work for it, hmm?” he said, the pace in which he was rubbing himself picking up. You whined, maybe he would give in and just let you take him without having to speak the words out loud. He just stared at you, waiting.

You cleared your throat and forced out the words, “Please, can I please suck your cock? I need to taste you so bad, please. Please sir, please fuck my mouth like you deserve to.” Once the words came out you couldn’t stop them. You needed him so badly, all you could do was helplessly beg. “I’ll be so good, I’ll do whatever you want from me, just please let me take your cock. Let me show you I can be good. Let me show you how well my throat can take it,” you continued begging and almost started drooling as he slowly pulled his underwear down, letting them fall to his ankles.

You looked up at him, asking for permission, “May I, sir?” He ran his hand down your scalp, bringing it down to your cheek and massaging it underneath his palm. He suddenly pulled his hand away before a sharp slap met your cheek that had your brain going foggy. The pain spread through your face, causing your jaw to fall open in a groan.

Leon took this opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth, your attention grabbed immediately as your lips wrapped around him. You let out a moan as the taste of his precum flooded your mouth. The pain from the slap mixed with his taste had your eyes rolling back into your head as you sucked him in as hard as you could.

Leon’s head fell back in pleasure as a moan of your name fell from his lips. You pulled his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to spur him on. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping him while you took his cock as deep as it could go in your throat. The sheer size of his member still blew your mind despite seeing it over camera twice. Nothing could compare to him being right in front of your face.

One of his hands tangled in your hair as the other one fiddled with something behind him. “Hey,” he said, grabbing your attention away from the work you were doing on his cock, “You can say no, okay?” You raised an eyebrow questioningly as you didn’t know what he was trying to say. He pulled up your Polaroid camera and it started coming together in your brain. You whimpered realizing he wanted to take pictures of the two of you together.

The idea rushed feverishly through you and straight down to your cunt. You’d never thought of taking pictures in the act. You both knew you’d taken plenty of pictures alone, but the thought of doing this with Leon and having the pictures for both of you to hold onto? You could feel the arousal pooling down your thighs as you nodded your head once to let him know to please continue. He smiled down at you, “Atta girl. Put on a show for me and I’ll make it worth your while, yeah?” The hand still held in your hair pulled tightly, causing you to close your eyes as you kept up your work on his cock.

You lost yourself in pleasing him. Giving him pleasure gave you pleasure as well. The way his cock stretched your mouth around him was heavenly. He was thrusting into your mouth, pushing himself down your throat. Tears were pouring down your face, but you didn’t want him to stop. You loved feeling like this, loved when your mind went foggy as he used you.

“Look at me,” he suddenly demanded. You looked up and your eyes immediately looked into the camera as he snapped a picture of you. “Fuck, such a good girl. So good for me, your mouth is, fuck, fucking perfect,” he whined out. The sound was pure sex, causing you to moan around his dick.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me into your slutty cunt, huh?” he asked you as you pulled your mouth off his cock sucking in a deep breath.

“Please, please. I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to use my pussy until you cum, sir,” you were once again pleading for him. You couldn’t find shame within you anymore. Your need heavily outweighed your pride. And knowing he liked you like this? You wanted to give yourself over to him whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

He walked around you, pushing you forward so that your chest was laying on the cushions of your couch, knees still on the floor as he spread them wider before him. You looked back at him just in time to see him take a picture of you bent over for him. After the photo was pushed out of the camera, he brought the device closer to your sopping pussy and took a picture of how wet and needy you were for him. He sat the camera down and started kneading both his hands into your ass cheeks.

Leaning forward he kissed your shoulder as one hand slipped down between your thighs and rubbed your clit gently. He ran his fingers up and down your folds before sinking a finger into your wet heat. You couldn’t help but whine at this point. You were so worked up, you could’ve taken his cock immediately, but you were also too worked up to be able to voice this. He slid another finger in as you let out a long, high pitched moan.

“Are you ready for me, baby? I need to feel your pussy around my cock,” Leon asked you as you nodded your head as fast as humanly possible. He chuckled at your neediness before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to your lips. “Here, be a good girl and clean this up for me,” he could barely finish his statement before you were sucking his fingers clean of your juices. He let out a deep moan as his other hand pulled back and smacked your ass hard.

He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed the tip against your wet hole, causing you to instinctively push yourself back, trying to take his cock. This earned you another smack on your ass. You moaned as you arched your back from the pain. Leon took this opportunity and slammed himself all the way inside of you, which had you unintentionally biting his fingers that were still being held in your mouth. He moaned at the way your teeth dug into his fingers before pulling them out and running his hand down your back.

You turned to look at him, begging, “Please move Leon, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, please please please please.” You couldn’t help but move your ass around to get some sort of movement within your pussy. You were so desperate, you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name.

“Shhhhh,” he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling your head back to rest on his peck as your back arched even further for him, “I’ve got you sweet girl.” He finally, finally, started moving and moans were already falling from your lips uncontrollably. “That’s it, you take me so well. Gonna make you feel so good,” Leon praised you. He had completely switched from the degrading way he spoke to you earlier and the praise had you melting beneath his touch. Your walls flutter around his cock in approval.

His pace picked up as he ruthlessly began pounding into you. You were uttering incoherent phrases at him as the pleasure was coursing through every nerve in your body. Leon leaned forward and buried his head in your neck, letting loose the most pornographic moans you’d ever heard. You didn’t know what was giving you more pleasure, the way he was fucking you or the way he sounded.

You pulled your hands from where they were gripping the couch and wrapping them behind you, tangling his hair in your fingers as you pulled his mouth to yours. The kiss was messy and loud, moaning as your tongues clashed together desperately trying to feel every square inch of each other. Leon’s hands released their grip on your thighs and ran them up to your stomach until he reached your breasts, where he rubbed your nipples between his fingers, further driving you crazy.

You felt yourself slowly climbing that mountain, heading towards release, when Leon’s movements suddenly stopped and he pushed your chest back into the couch, pressing you into it with both hands. You were whining and pushing yourself up and down his cock while he held you in place. “That’s it, fuck yourself with my cock. You look so good like this, so fucking needy,” Leon barely formed the words together as he got lost in the sight of you. He rested his hands lazily on his hips, holding himself up as you forcibly fucked back onto his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please fuck me. I’m so close I need you to fill me up, please,” you begged, wearing yourself out from your movements, hardly able to catch your breath but unrelenting in your need to cum.

Leon gave into your request, pushing his hands into your back, holding you in place as he ruthlessly fucked into you. He let out a loud moan before speaking, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me sweet girl. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” You couldn’t formulate a response, but after a few more hard, sloppy thrusts you were screaming Leon’s name and all sorts of profanities as you came.

After feeling you squeeze his cock so tightly, Leon was cumming deep inside your pussy. Thrusting into you through his orgasm, pushing his cum further inside of you. Your knees gave out beneath you, but Leon was quick to grab your hips and hold you up. He slowly slid his cock out of you, taking in the view of his cum slowly dripping down your thighs. If it was possible, he would’ve cum again at the sight alone.

He helped you turn over and lay on the floor right beside your couch as he laid down right next to you. You were tightly sandwiched between the couch and coffee table with him, but you didn’t mind. You wanted to be as close to him as possible. You rolled onto your side and threw your leg and arm over him, chin resting on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, catching your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was a sharp contrast to how you’d just been moments ago and it would’ve given anyone whiplash, but to you both it made perfect sense.

Leon pulled away and spoke softly, “There’s only one thing I’m not sure of. Why’d you get the cameras?” You let out an airy laugh and were about to speak when you were interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by one of your cats zooming through the living room and into your bedroom away from the noise.

“What the fuck was that?” you yelled, whipping your head towards the kitchen. “That’s why I got the damn cameras! Between the cats, and apparently you, I was beginning to believe I was living with a poltergeist.”

Leon laughed before speaking, “Hey, I’m careful. That’s all on them or the poltergeist.”

~masterlist~

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yuri-is-online · 7 months ago

Note

Sorry for making you explain all the yutus but can you do Jades? Bros gotta be so overprotective 😬

Jokes on you I am always down to talk about Jade Leech (my beloved)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. I think I typed up way more for this than anyone else up to this point, I'd apologize but it has been a second since I brain rotted about Jade, so excuse me for feeding myself (づ_ど)

Put yourself in Jade's shoes for a second. He is a merfolk from the coral sea, only able to appear human through the use of a potion but still retaining his inhuman features. He tries hard to appear human, he goes to a boot camp where so many things have to be explained that he is able to mimic but doesn't fully understand. There's no reason for you to like him, he knows that better than anyone; he doesn't fully understand why he's attracted to you himself but he is. And he longed after you for so long, he was drowning in his desire that had such a little chance of being reciprocated but by some miracle it was. You stay in Twisted Wonderland, you let him take you under the sea and agree to be kept there. You're going to give him a family, he's beyond excited and filled with feelings of love he didn't think he'd ever get to have.

And then it's gone. There's no evidence as to why, no one to tell him where you went. Azul starts off confident, excited at the prospect of revenge and encouraging Jade. They'll find them, between him, Jade, and Floyd they'll find Yuu and someone will have a very bad day. But there's nothing, they're being lied to and stonewalled at every turn and when finally (it's been 10 months 3 weeks and two days, he could count down to the hours and seconds but who would listen?) Riddle of all people contacts them with a lead, he's dead almost immediately. Turned into a phantom, all of those friends of yours he was so jealous of too… no one is telling him but he knows. You're not coming back, he's never going to meet your child, he failed at a moray's one job of protecting his cleaner shrimp. When he's alone he talks to you both sometimes, nights when you can see the stars are becoming increasingly rare as the sky flares up with ink but he likes to think you found your way up to the sky.

When he loses Floyd and Azul he sort of loses his will to live. The only thing that keeps him going is the promise of one day being able to lay them both to rest eventually, but until then he bar tends at NRC and listens to all the little things people talk about when the world is ending. If he was in a better place he'd probably find it funny how lose people's lips are getting, Azul’s business would be doing so well if he were here now…

That's what he's doing one day in September when one of the mage students runs up to him out of breath, Sehrish he thinks her name is?

“The headmage needs you in the hospital wing!” She sounds scared, out of breath like she's run the whole way and Jade is just curious enough to go. Something spurs him on to run himself, through the mirror and into the wing and-

He doesn't even hesitate, his body acts before his brain does launching him towards you and grasping desperately at your hands. They're cold, you're going cold and he doesn't have the warmth in his body to give you. Something has mercy on him and let's your eyes open just the bit as you reach just as desperate to be close to him as he is to you and he feels your strength pass into him.

“Don't apologize.” He manages to whisper.

“But I'm sorry.” You cry. “I love you so much and I couldn't forget even though they wanted me to.”

“Who did this. Who took you just name them and I promise you my pearl-” he gets to kiss you one more time before your gone. Jade doesn't move, he thinks Crewel is yelling for his attention but he can't move, he wants to stay here forever he has to protect you, why wasn't he able to protect you?!

“Oh holy fuck that tastes bad.” There's a dazed voice Jade has never heard before, heavy with sorrow, and though he doesn't quite have it yet, Jade feels purpose begin to return to his heart.

Jade! Yutu is a menace. I like the idea of him being some form of punk or goth, with piercings and a few tattoos that Yuu doesn't know anything about. He grew up with a small group of close knit alt friends who would come over to Yuu's house and shoot the shit. Yuu was really popular with Yutu's friends actually, he had mixed feelings about that. (No, his parent isn't accepting step-father applications, Joshua, keep running your mouth and see what happens)

Has a mixed ranged of emotions about his parent's amnesia. When he was younger not knowing who his dad was made him really sad, he'd listen to other kids talk about doing things with their fathers and he'd dream about doing them with his dad, but the picture was always blurry and felt just... wrong somehow. As he gets older and starts forming his world view he starts to think his dad might have left Yuu for any number of reasons. Did it happen before or after their amnesia, that's what he wants to know.

He has a pretty big problem with authority, residual trauma from the trip across worlds he thinks now… but back in your world he just didn't see the point of respecting someone just because they have more money and power than him. Almost everyone does, that doesn't make them special! But he's so sneaky about it, if it weren't for his clothes or his friends Yuu would hardly know what he gets up to in his spare time. It put a bit of strain on their relationship, Yutu sees his lies as something he does to protect his parent, while Yuu sees themselves as well. A parent. Who is the one who should be protecting their child not the other way around.

When he tries to pull similar stunts with Original Timeline! Jade he gets a rude awakening. He tries sneaking out to meet up with some friends only to find his dad sitting with them, polite smile on his face clearly reveling in how awkward he is making this. Oya, did Yutu think he was being slick? He's hurt, no really this is the first time Jade has had to fake cry in years, he'd almost forgot how. Didn't Yutu ever wonder where he got this from? Because he had to know it wasn't Yuu.

Jade! Yutu also played in a band in middle school and also played bass, it just wasn't a jazz trio or an upright bass. He would have liked continued to play in bands, but he shares his dad's issues with stage fright which makes it sort of difficult. He has tried his hand at writing his own music from time to time, but he's waaaaay too shy to ever play it for anyone other than the woods.

He really likes horror stories and cryptids, so he wasn't super afraid of the monsters when he first arrived in Twisted Wonderland. One round with Phantom Riddle changed that nonchalant attitude quick, and while he still is very attached to the stuff he read about back in your world he hates blot monsters and Twisted Wonderland fiends in general.

Speaking of those monsters, Jade hates Yutu fighting them. Father and son are an absolute nightmare for Crewel to deal with, one is threatening to drown him if Yutu is allowed to fight, the other is screaming curse words and saying it doesn't matter what Crewel does, he's going anyway. He needs a drink (but not from Jade's bar he's going to get poisoned)

I don't think Yutu actually told Jade he was planning on going back in time because he was angry and just assumed that he would try and stop him. He's really proud of himself for the first few weeks he spends in the past thinking he got one over on his old man finally (he didn't, but he did hurt him quite a bit), but the more he interacts with the younger version of his parents the more he starts to regret that decision.

Past Jade is so… fun. He thinks his dad is fun?! His weird obsession with mushrooms was never something they talked about beyond a few compliments his dad gave to a mushroom patch he had on his jacket; watching his old man prattle on now he never would have guessed any of this. Yutu never doubted that Jade loved you, but he didn't really think about what that looked like, or what you might have meant to Jade. They just didn't talk about it, now that he's forced to think about it Jade was probably trying to focus on having him back and how lucky he was to even have that. And instead of being honest about how angry he was to have lost you he lied and said he was fine. With how good his dad was at knowing when he was lying Jade had to know that's how he felt, but respected his boundaries and didn't push. All those comments about being there when he's ready to talk, all the times Jade said he loved him, and those long nights he watched from afar as Jade sat with tea next to your grave, just talking to you as if you were still there are put into context. Yutu isn't able to sleep for a few nights after that.

Jade finds Yutu interesting. He's a potential source of information about Yuu, a lot of his quirks remind him of himself and he finds the new kids blatant disrespect for authority to be hilarious! And hilariously good blackmail material, now now don't be afraid he really is just here to help...

"Nice try old man you won't pull shit out of me." Yutu sounds smug, but Jade knows when his spell has worked and when it hasn't; how delightful he doesn't seem to remember someone ever being so cocky about it before.

"That's a shame." He makes sure to make his face fall to keep the new kid off his guard as he continues his questioning. "It's just I am curious where did you come from? I thought Yuu's world doesn't have magic."

"I mean it doesn't, probably never would have been able to come back in time if I was still stuck there." Yutu blinks, clarity starting to come into view as Jade pushes through the surprise to ask a final question.

"Oya? And just why did you come back in time, were you worried about Yuu?"

"Of course I'm worried about my parent what sort of stupid question is-" Yutu returns to himself and treats Jade to a look of shock so rare and downright delightful he can't help but smile himself. "Hey just what did you do?"

Old man? What a disrespectful thing to call his father, no wonder his future self never told his son about his unique magic. Jade doesn't have time to doubt his affections for Yuu, once Yutu realizes he's fucked and can't get out of admitting that was the truth he tells Jade who he is and a bit about what the future is like. Jade can tell he's keeping a few details back, but he knows himself well enough to know that everything Yutu is describing would have changed him to a degree that he might not have been in the best mental space to help his son through the loss of Yuu.

Speaking of Yuu, Jade asks Yutu to keep his existence to himself for a bit. He wants to win over your affections without the help of the future looming in your thoughts, he only gets to have this part of his life with you once and he intends to savor it. But the confidence boost he gets from knowing you do end up as his mate does have him acting a bit goofy for a bit. Floyd and Azul are legitimately scared.

They are brought up to speed as Jade insists on introducing Yutu to them "properly" and he is every inch the proud father showing off their new baby to the relatives even though Yutu is practically his height and has a bunch of piercings. Floyd takes a liking to him immediately while Azul is a bit more awkward, not that he doesn't like Yutu he's just a lot different from anyone Azul has ever met before so he's unsure how to sell himself. Luckily he doesn't have to because Yutu appreciates his genuine self just like Floyd, Jade, and Yuu do.

Jade gladly invites Yutu to join the Mountain Lover's Club and is very excited when he says yes. Yutu finds a lot of enjoyment in helping his dad work mushrooms into Azul and Floyd's food by pretending to agree with their complaints. Floyd is so mad he calls Yuu and tells them to come get their kid.

The over protectiveness doesn't end exactly, but Yutu is more willing to understand and Jade is more able to explain himself. They're both extremely protective of Yuu and in sound agreement that nothing like Yutu's future can ever be allowed to come to pass. Jade wanted a family, so to learn that he got that and someone took it away from him? Future him was overwhelmed with grief but current him is overwhelmed with rage. Remember book four? He described what he would do to someone who betrayed him, and it wasn't pretty. His plans for whoever did this to his precious mate and child is going to get so much worse.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu

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deadwasteland-dazaisfan · 9 months ago

Text

₊˚⊹ ᰔ “It's not a knee...” .𖥔 ݁ ˖

°Pairing: fem!reader×chuuya nakahara;

°Contain: drabble, headcanons, close to canon, mention of murders, mention of criminal organizations, hints of sex, MDNI;

°Synopsis: about how your attitude towards each other has changed and you got.... into an embarrassing situation;

°Author's note: well... it's something like nsfw, but I'm not very good at it, so... I hope it's not that bad XD...there may be grammatical errors!

Nakahara Chuuya is your colleague, the head of the executive committee of the Port Mafia, and in fact, you are his secretary.

He is a busy man, holds the honorary title of a martial artist, and is also overworked. That's why he asked Mori to appoint you as his secretary (with your consent, of course). You weren't friends, but you weren't strangers to each other either. Previously, your work went separately: Chuuya constantly disappeared on missions, returned to the mafia office very late, and if he was carried to the outskirts of the city or another prefecture, then it was not worth waiting for him at all. He stayed overnight at a local hotel. You, in turn, were a less important person, although you were on the executive committee under his leadership.

You were rarely on missions, mostly you were engaged in official documentation and paperwork, contracts. Like a clerk, but a little more important. But, as they sometimes said about you, you were a victim, a decoy. That's what they called you because you were always in situations where mafia enemies just grabbed you and held a gun to your temple, threatening to kill you. You were a vulnerable member, and many people from enemy organizations believed that since you were on the executive committee, you should be an important person and you could be used to achieve their goals. Not that it was, no. You were highly appreciated and considered worthy of your position. Plus, you were a great beauty, and all the mafia men just admired the fact that there was such a pretty girl among them. In any case, you don't have to worry — for such threats and unauthorized touching of you, mafia crush their heads and broke ribs.

Over time, you became a little closer to each other — you don't know how it happened, but for some reason he started waiting for you after work (even if he looked like he was going to fall asleep), he could give you a ride on his motorbike or at your request he orders you a taxi. He was very busy during working hours, so he hardly paid attention to you (logically, he didn't pay attention to anyone). Sometimes, tired after battles, he would start writing reports (well, at least he tried), but his head and brain were boiling from everything that had happened, his mind was clouded by fatigue and the need for sleep, and he looked very, very tired. And yet, he managed to come up to you from time to time and ask about some points in the paperwork. Of course, you explained everything to him, he nodded silently with his eyes closed and, returning to his seat, fell into a deep sleep. All you could do was carefully pull out the sheets from under his head that were lying on the table and fill everything out yourself. He was more grateful than anyone else.

He also invited you to the bar a couple of times to have a drink in honor of the successful completion of several missions, but after you, smiling sweetly and awkwardly, said that you wern't drinking, he stop talking, make an empty face and hurriedly nod, after which he leave. Not that he was very upset; but he spent the rest of the evening at the bar over a glass of semi-sweet wine, reflecting that someone really never drinks and doesn't have such an addiction to expensive alcoholic beverages. But soon all his thoughts scattered when he returned home and calmly lay down on a wide bed, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

Hiding the fact that he was really just too handsome and hot was useless. You just liked him as a person, but as a man he was also very attractive. He had a definite sense of style; he did not dress too pretentiously, his outfits were always good and moderate. And it was partly clear that he had been raised by a woman: idealized manners, always clean, shining red hair, gathered in a neat ponytail, neatly arranged bangs, ironed, clean white shirt; all other things are also clean and ironed, shoes are always clean and shine from the wax applied to them; He always smelled pleasantly of expensive men's perfume; not too heavy, a scent suitable for him. A couple of times you've seen him use lip balm in winter to keep his lips from cracking and bleeding. You also assumed that his house was tidy, clean and had a pleasant smell of fragrance. So, a wonderful man, a rich man, but a reasonable and rational person who knows a lot about manners and neatness, as well as about his work. He combined not only beauty and neatness, but also strength and power. And he was definitely one of those who could stand up not only for himself, but also for other important people for him. Including you. And also rides a motorcycle! Amazing.

But the situation you got into scared you a little, or rather confused you. Oh. Very confused.

It so happens that you and Nakahara have planned a birthday party for your boss, Mori-san. Others were involved in this, but it was you two who did the initial training. While his office was empty, you snuck in here and began to decorate everything that needed to be decorated. But before you could start, you heard footsteps approaching.

It was hopelessness, and Chuuya, grabbing your wrist, quickly pulled you after him. You ended up in some kind of closet, Chuuya quickly closed the door and looked at you. Everything happened so fast that both of you didn't even seem to have time to realize the situation... And now you were underneath him when he was looming over you; well, that was the only possible position for the two of you right now. Looking into each other's eyes, you listen to the sounds outside — someone has entered inside. You both fell silent, barely breathing, so that there would not be an extra creak or sigh. Since there was a closed and very small space in the closet, being here very soon became unbearable. The stuffiness weighed on your mind. So you both gradually got very hot, literally. There was still someone walking around the office, and you didn't know exactly who. Nakahara was still above you, so far he was silent. But after a couple of moments, he quietly approached and whispered in your ear:

"I don't think it's Mori-san. But who knows... We need to be quiet."

You, in turn, nodded slightly and whispered a quiet "yes" in response. You could see the outline of Chuuya, because a light light penetrated into small cracks in the closet. His body, hanging over you, seemed so tempting... But you quickly pushed away all the fragile thoughts and tried to look somewhere else. Chuuya has actually been looking at you all this time. His body was very close to yours, he could hear your slightly rapid breathing. His hands were on either side of your head. He really didn't want to... But your appearance was so beautiful and seductive that he could barely contain himself. He gently leaned closer to you and you felt his warm breath on your neck. He was breathing raggedly and heavily, probably he was hot...

And then you felt something underneath, pressing against your thigh. You couldn't see what it was, of course, but you could easily tell it was his knee. That's why you spoke softly:

"Chuuya, could you take your knee away, please? It gets in the way..."

You saw him pull back a little, and then lean over you again, and this time his voice sounded with a slight tremor:

"This is... This is not a knee...."

There was something between a sour and confused expression on his face. You couldn't tell if he blushed or not, but he did, you can be sure. He also looked away from you and tried to pretend that he was very wary of what sounds were coming from outside, but in fact he was just embarrassed that his body was reacting to you so involuntarily in such situations.

Uh...After the words he said, you were still at a loss, and, to be honest, it didn't come to you right away. You just stared at him, blinking frequently, while intense mental activity continued in your head about guessing what "it" might be, if not the knee.

Noticing that you were silent, looking at him uncomprehendingly, he was even more confused and let out a quiet "Uh ..." after which he tried to think of what to say to you. Your thoughts were not lost, and you thought that it could be the holster from his knife, which accidentally hung down and pressed so uncomfortably. Smiling slightly, you whispered:

"Got it... Is that a knife holster?..."

Oh, my God, you should have seen Chuuya's face. It simply cannot be described in words, and if possible, just repeat the words "confused" and "embarrassed" 100 times. He stared at you, then exhaled softly and said:

"Listen, y/n, this is not a holster.... This... are you... Damn, why haven't you figured it out yet..."

He swore softly and then leaned even closer to you. Oh, he wanted so much to kiss and bite your neck. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet.

Yeah, you haven't figured it out yet. And you felt it pressing against your thigh more and more.

And finally. You got it. You really got it. "It" pressing on your thigh was warm, and as it seemed to you, slightly throbbing. Your eyes widened, your cheeks turned crimson, your breathing became strangled, and you looked down. You actually felt very hot at the same moment of realization. You tried to move away at least a little, but it didn't work because the closet was too narrowly. When Nakahara saw you trying to move, he pinned your shoulders and hissed:

"Don't you dare move!... This damn closet is a million years old, it creaks like the oldest thing on damn earth."

You didn't object. No, not in such a situation and not at such a moment. Keeping silent, you tried to overcome your embarrassment while Chuuya was closely following the sounds from outside the closet. A few minutes later, the person who entered the boss's office finally came out and you and Chuuya opened the door a little. The office was indeed empty. Then, Chuuya run out of the closet with almost light speed, when you were still climbing out. Then you looked at him: flushed face, shortness of breath and wandering eyes. Only for a single moment did you manage to see the bump on his pants, after which he quickly headed for the exit.

"Wait...Chuuya-..."

Before he could get out, you grabbed his elbow and looked at him with a plaintive look. He quickly turned around and looked at you with a hint of seriousness and a little frustration, but nevertheless his face still had shades of embarrassment.

"Can we talk? I won't just leave it like that..."

"Y/N, It doesn't make sense. I'm sorry for all this... Never mind..."

You pulled his elbow and looked at him seriously when you said more insistently

"But... But you're-..."

"Hold on. What are you trying to achieve? Do you want me to make all my thoughts come true? If you annoy me, I promise I'll do it"

"But... I just-..."

Your voice broke off on a small squeak that you made when the redhead abruptly grabbed you and led you to the table. He also quickly, with incredible ease, lifted you up and bent over the table, facing him, as he squeezed your wrists and leaned closer

"Do you want me to fuck you right here? Is that what you want? Please, Y/N, don't do this. Otherwise, I promise I won't hold back..."

"And if I say that I want you to?..."

When those words left your lips, Chuuya's face instantly changed to pure surprise. Well done, 10 points out of 10. He certainly didn't expect such an answer...

"What... What did you say?..."

You looked at him with a slightly embarrassed and innocent look, and then said

"I said that... That I want you to..do it..."

Nakahara blinked a few times before leaning closer to you and whispering

"Do you want me to... fuck you?..."

His tone was like this... sweet and serious at the same time. You involuntarily blushed and swallowed softly when you answered in a trembling voice

"Yes..."

Without wasting any more time and words, Chuuya knocked you down on the table completely and clung to you in a passionate kiss. You unwittingly let out a soft moan against his lips, and then squeezed your eyes shut.

After that, everything was a blur. All you remember is Chuuya unbuttoning your shirt, then his, and then the sound of a belt buckle undoing.

Edited: LMAO I remembered that I forgot to finish the funniest moment! As you have already understood, all the actions took place in Mori's office... Not only was nothing decorated, the papers that were (unfortunately) on this desk were scattered all over the floor, and you both left the office in a lousy state. Chuuya's hair is completely out of order (by the way, so are you), his shirt is not fully tucked in, and you have the same thing.

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