#[ forgotten city ] ~ tw
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jikothemartian-z · 2 years ago
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Ink Liberty
Song Name: Dancing With The Devil by Avatar
Song Name: Inferno by Rain Paris
Song Name: Princesses Don’t Cry by CARY
Song Name: Happy Pills by Weathers
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WARNING ⚠️ BLOOD AHEAD
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allfearstofallto · 6 months ago
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Devout
Yandere! Childe x Fem,Nun! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
TW: 18+ MDNI, Noncon, lots and lots of mentioning of religion, reader is a virgin, yandere, obsession, unprotected sex, finishing inside
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Heavenly. What an on the nose way to describe you. Dressed head to toe in loose fitting, religious garb, your hair covered. All he could see was the skin of your hands and that heavenly face.
Such a sweet, welcoming smile and gentle voice was befitting of a nun. He could only imagine how many men you'd lured into your trap of giving donations with those assets of yours. Kindly praising them for whatever they could give like an owner to a dog. And he was another willing victim.
Your eyes went wide when he dropped the large bag of mora into your little basket. Your grip wavered a bit as the heavy coins weighed your little arms down, and all he did was smirk. He'd made himself known to you.
“What a generous donation!” You exclaimed. That pretty smile of yours, the way your eyes lit up. He resisted the urge to lick his lips while thinking about what he could do with that mouth, a lewd gesture to be doing right in front of a nun, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
He felt himself cock an eyebrow at your words. Pleasure? He supposed he gave pleasure to receive it. He eyed you up and down, he could see so little of you. The skirt down to your ankles left plenty to the imagination and imagine he did, “I suppose I'm trying to be new to the faith.”
A little white lie, but your smile growing wider made it worth it. If all nuns were as pretty and tempting as you were, he'd join the commune immediately.
“Lord Barbatos accepts all,” You said, holding the basket back out to him and implying that you wanted him to take his money back, “Don't give because you're new to worship. All that is given is accepted, but we will still take you with open arms.”
“I want to give you this much,” he said, a firm hand pushing the basket back, “and I want to give you so much more.”
Going to the city of freedom, a city known for its drinking and partying, just for the cathedral was quite the story amongst his subordinates. But Childe didn't care. The things he wanted to do with you weren't holy, but that was much better than a glass of wine and a song. If they knew the treat that stayed praying in the church day and night, they too would take to the faith.
Walking into the chapel, the first thing he was greeted with was the sight of you on your knees, praying to the statue of that absentee god. Filling that pretty mouth of yours felt like a better use of this time, you were already on your down there after all. But he decided against it. Not yet at least. Not when you were smiling at him so sweetly, motioning him closer to pray next to you.
Childe mentally asked the Tsaritsa for forgiveness, but still kneeled next to you. The Tsaritsa was a forgiving woman, he hoped that she would understand why he was praying to a false God. The way you were sitting on your knees, your round behind pressed against the heels of your feet, it made the fabric of your skirt press against your body. The curve of your ass, it was the first time he's seen it and he sucked air in through his teeth. He truly was being tempted, wasn't he?
“It's such an honor to see you, Ajax. Wasn't it?” Even the way you tilted your head in confusion was adorable. Typically he'd be upset if someone had forgotten his name, he didn't feel forgettable, but he was going to make you remember. Those plump lips of your would be calling his name over and over again, until it would be all you could say.
“Yes, it's Ajax,” he dropped the clasps of his hands and stood again, holding out an arm for you as well, “I was in the area again and decided to stop by for a prayer.”
A look of hesitance danced across that pretty face of yours as you debated whether or not to take his hand, before deciding against it. Instead, you chose to stand by yourself, a move that made him long for you even more. So he couldn't even feel the softness of your skin? Yet another ache in his groin, you were honestly trying to get him, weren't you?
“Forgive my rudeness, but we're discouraged from touching those of the opposite sex. Especially those who haven't taken vows, better to not tempt provocation,”
Vows? He'd assumed as much, but hearing you say it his pants grow even tighter. Temptation was you. You were such a pure soul, but you were sin. That body under all those clothes, he knew that it was erotic. He knew you felt lustful thoughts, that even you had ideas and thoughts that went against your virtue.
“I understand,” he spoke in a strained whisper, gripping the legs of his pants tight, “Do you think we can go somewhere private? I have a few confessions I need to make.”
You perked up once again, large eyes filled with enthusiasm, “Our father is holding a confessional if you'd like-”
“No,” he cut you off quickly, “I want to talk to you alone, do you think that's a possibility?”
There was a look of aversion in your eyes, clearly you were thinking about it. You looked like you wanted to tell him no, but your good natured heart and kind ways were fighting against what was right and what you felt like you needed to do as a nun.
“I'm…I'm not meant to take confessions, brother Ajax,” you said sweetly.
He stepped a bit closer to you, trying not to intimidate you, but also trying to press the importance. His length was hardening even more, his pants growing tighter. If you noticed, you didn't say anything, but of course, how would you?
“Please, it'll just be for a moment,”
Fearful eyes looked around the church before you motioned for him to follow you. Going against your God while in his home, you felt like you were committing a crime. But you couldn't leave a person in need behind. You're sure Barbatos would find it in his heart to forgive you.
“Please, make yourself at home here, dear brother,” you said while leading him through the door.
It was a simple room. An altar at the other end of the room, with a few candles and offerings and dim lighting. The room was scented with incense, a sweet smell that reminded him of the dandelion wine that Mondstadt was known for.
You lowered yourself onto your knees and motioned for Childe to follow you, “Please, kneel next to me, confess whatever you feel necessary,”
He sat down next to you, close enough to where his shoulder brushed against you. You flinched from this contact, but didn't say anything. A thought crossed your mind, so much space in the room and he chose to be right against you.
“Forgive me, I have sinned,” he said, but he never closed his eyes, never clasped his hands together, never lowered his head.
“Confess to me your woes,”
He sucked air in through his teeth, trying not to jump on you. Not yet. Not while you were looking at him so hopefully. So much trust. It only made him want you more.
“I've been having sinful thoughts,” he began, his eyes not leaving you, “Sinful to the point of being debilitating. They wreck my mind constantly.”
“Are these thoughts of harming others?” You asked, this didn't seem like the question of a clergy, but rather one of genuine curiosity.
He didn't look away from you, while his hand slithered down and he began palming his length through his pants, “They used to be. But now they're more deviant in nature.”
“Br-brother Ajax, such actions are- they are unbefitting for the church,” you said quickly, turning your head away to not see him as he defiled sacred ground with his actions.
“I need you, sister,” he leaned closer to you, whispering his words right into the shell of your ear. You squirmed at the feeling of his breath, such a cute reaction it was, and the yelp you let out when his hand gripped your ankle was even cuter. He tugged at your leg, pushing your back against the ground and leaning over you.
He'd seen fear like this before. Many times before. When he plunged a weapon into someone's chest, watching the life fade from their eyes, it was similar to the one you were making now. The tears, the muttered begging, even the way your lips quivered, it was all the same. So why now did it make his cock even harder in the confines of his pants?
Where would he even begin with you? Quite honestly, he didn't even know how to take your garb off. Instead, he took to ripping it, right at the neck. Pulling it apart straight down the middle until every inch of your torso became visible to him. Your breasts were covered in a basic bra. Normally he was the type to prefer more intricate lingerie to entice his urges, yet something about the simplicity of your undergarments made him hiss air in through his teeth. It was like you knew for certain that nothing was happening, yet he still was forcing you to show him.
“Stop! You can't do this!” You cried, trying to cover yourself in what scraps of your dress you could find.
He was gentle as he touched you this time, fingertips stroking your cheek, but his words following were harsh and deathly serious, “Don't fight me, I wouldn't want to hurt you,”
“Heavenly father, I ask that you forgive me…” you began to mutter to yourself in prayer. Laying there, hands clasped and teary eyes shut as you felt him trace up and down your thigh with his tongue. The feeling of his saliva, going up to your stomach, one of his hands cupping your breast before ripping the fabric of your bra away, it made you sick to your stomach. Your pebbled nipples hitting the cold air were quickly sucked into his mouth, a pleasure never experienced before washing over your body. You shuddered, much to his approval.
He wanted to go slower. He wanted to tease you for hours before taking you. He wanted to make you cum over and over, proudly showing how lewd you truly were to your false God, but even he has grown impatient. Trying to win you the right way just wasn't working and he needed to feel you, as deeply as possible, the girl he'd fantasized about night after night.
The way your eyes widened when he dropped his pants was cute. When you tried to look away from his hard cock that was dripping precum onto your cunt, still begging with those sweet lips, it was even cuter. But the way you went silent, the way the world seemed to stop from you the second you felt the head of his cock against your opening, that was the cutest. He loved the look in your eye. The look of visceral fear. It was a look of knowing. Knowing that after he was finished with you, you'd have nowhere to go, but to him.
You only began truly fighting him off when he began pushing the head of his cock into your warmth. So tight and soft, no matter how hard you hit him, you couldn't make him leave your insides. When he bottomed out inside you, feeling your walls clench around every inch of his cock, he hissed. Face to face with you now, nestled deep within you, he kissed your wet cheeks. Childe wasn't one for love making, but he couldn't help but to be tender with you. His thrusts were slow, but deep, making sure you tasted all of him.
“Hush, little angel,” he cooed softly to you, while wiping away more of your tears. Your little sobs were agonizing to his heart, yet his cock only twitched harder, “It'll be over soon.”
And you nodded. Such a sweet thing. You nodded and let yourself go to him. He didn't take this as a sign to be rougher though. No. He couldn't. Not to you. He continued his same pace, softly humming to you and shushing you when you got too loud. He wanted to pound your insides, to fuck you brutally, but that would be for later.
Little sobs left your lips as your nails dug into the carpeted floor beneath you. He was still going slow. Thrusting in and out skillfully, his hand tenderly gripping your face and making you look him in the eye, any time you tried to look away, he'd just force your head back.
“I'm cumming soon, okay?” He muttered against your lips, kissing you gently afterwards.
With your mouth engulfed in his, you couldn't beg him to please not finish inside you. Instead, your body flailed beneath him, trying to get him off as you felt the thrust of his hips speed up and become more greedy. You felt him grip you tighter, you felt his moans grow louder against your lips. And all you could do is sit in horror as you felt his hips falter, his pace slow down, and his cock twitch even more as it pumped hot cum deep inside your.
Childe pulled away from the sloppy kiss, your lips covered in saliva and he smiled. You'd never seen such evilness until you looked into his eyes, proudly looking down at your cunt where the cum was seeping out. I'm your mind, you were saying another prayer, but you weren't sure if anyone was listening.
“Guess I have to marry you now,” he chuckled with a playful pat against your thigh. But despite the smile on his face you knew he wasn't joking.
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magics-neptunes-things · 1 month ago
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Love Me Harder
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Hi guys :)
Still working on my WIP! This is a request I got here, so I hope the person asking for it will be happy with what I wrote :)
I'm sorry for the delay by the way.
But please enjoy ♥
TW : Head injury, concussion, jealousy, angst with happy ending.
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Leah and you have been a couple for almost two years now, even if you managed to get it hidden for now. You always had something for the girl to be honest, but when you met Leah, she was already with Jordan and you weren’t really a couple breaker. Sure, it hurts sometimes to see her happy with someone else, but at least she was happy and that’s all that matters for you.
You tried to forget her by sleeping around or having a girlfriend yourself, but nothing really worked. You usually dated people away from the football world, not wanting to mix your professional life with your private life. It happened that you slept with other players though, but never in your team or with them being friends with one of your friends.
With that state of mind, it was hard to find someone to sleep with, but at least you were out of trouble.
Well, that’s what you thought until today.
Leah and you aren’t playing for the same team, she was born at Arsenal while you travel a lot during your career. You started in Manchester City, then you went to Lyon, then to Bayern and since last season you have been back in Manchester City. You like it here and it was easier to live your relationship with Leah that way.
You are together when you are playing for your national team though, you have been the number one goalkeeper of the team for years now. Leah is back from her injury and is now back in national camp too.
Sarina knows that you are together, like all your teammates. The only people who don’t know are the public. You are friends with a lot of Lionesses, so when you are spotted with Leah and some of your friends, no one really puts two and two together. Meado tease you a lot about it, but in reality, you aren’t fan of PDA anyway and so is Leah. Maybe not like you are with your friends, but it’s another discussion.
Back to today, you are playing against Italy for the qualification of the next international championship. After your World Cup and the fact that you weren’t qualified for the Olympics Games, all your team wants to show that you are still here and deserve to win the Euro back in 2022.
You were doing the pitch inspection, casually talking with Lucy and LJ when you heard someone calling your name. Leah, as always, wasn’t far away from you with Keira and Georgia.
“Y/N?”
You turn without really thinking in the direction of the voice, just to be faced with a girl that you actually slept with several months ago. To be honest, it was just before you got in a relationship with Leah. You hate to admit it, but you kind of ghost that poor girl after that, way too happy to finally be with the girl you were in love with.
“Oh, hi Milena” you say nervously.
You even have forgotten that she’s in fact from Italy and you will be facing her today. You can see Lucy exchanging an intrigued look with LJ next to you while the girl keeps walking in your direction.
“I’m happy to see you” she says when she’s in front of you.
You don’t have time to answer before she hugs you and your arms automatically surround her waist to give her back her embrace. If your arms very quickly drop from her body, one of her hands stays in your arm.
You probably never have been so uncomfortable during the rest of your life. You can feel Leah burning gaze on your back.
“How are you? I think we haven't talked for like two years” she laughs.
“Oh, uh. I’m good thanks” you mumble.
“You look good indeed” she smirks.
You deal very badly with cringe, to be honest. So, you are particularly relieved when Lucy passes her arm around your shoulders before talking.
“We have to go back inside” Lucy says, nodding towards the locker room.
In fact, when you look around, you realise that almost all your teammates are already inside. That excuse is perfect after all. You mumble a “See you later” before letting Lucy take you out of the pitch.
Lucy and LJ manage to wait to be out of your ex’s ear before bursting into laughter. You suppose you must be grateful to them for that.
“What was that?” Lauren asks while Lucy is still laughing like crazy.
“Nothing” you roll your eyes.
“She doesn’t look like nothing” Lucy smirks when she can breathe again.
“Be careful with what you say, or Ona will receive a strange text from me, explaining how you find other girls not nothing” you frown.
She suddenly shuts up, her face becoming way more serious. It makes you smile. You never saw Lucy so whipped for a girl before. But you know that your friends deserve an explanation. You sigh softly before starting your explanation.
“It’s a girl I slept with before Leah kissed me at that party, and we got together. I was still in the process of forgetting her. I met that girl before the Euro and well… You know” you shrug. “But then after the semi-finales we got together with Leah, after that she hurt her ACL and I kind of totally forgot that girl.”
LJ hums after your explanation, nodding softly. You can see that your explanation makes sense for both of them which is great because it’s nothing but the truth.
“Leah was boiling” Lucy informs you.
You grimace at this. You were pretty sure that she would react that way. You never realise how Leah can be jealous before being with her. You like it actually, fond of the way she wants to be sure that you are hers and no one can take you away from her.
But here and now aren’t exactly the right place to show her that she is your only one.
You are nervous when you enter the changing room, looking for your girlfriend. You finally see her sitting in Georgia’s cubby. Her eyes are burning when she crosses your gaze after you enter the locker room.
Lucy goes sit on her cubby, just next to yours, while LJ goes on hers too. You want to talk to Leah, but Georgia’s non-verbal language makes you think that you better not approach Leah for now.
That girl is really scary when she wants to.
Keira’s gaze is softer and it’s what makes you walk in their direction. Lucy was right, Leah seems furious.
“Can we talk?” you ask softly when you reach them.
“No” Georgia answers harshly.
“Georgia” Keira sighs.
“Leah?” you try again, trying to cross your girlfriend’s gaze. “Please?”
She sighs and throws the towel she was holding in the cubby while standing up. She doesn’t answer really, but you follow her anyway when she walks to leave the room. You don’t really know where you are going at first, until she turns to enter in a closet.
“What do you want to talk about?” Leah asks harshly just after you close the door.
You are a little bit taken aback. You know what you want to talk about of course, but you don’t know how to start. You are sure that if you say that you know she’s jealous, she will deny it and that it will be the end of the conversation. This is not what you want.
“I just wanted to know if you are okay” you tentatively say.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She has now her arms crossed and her famous frown on her face. You know how hard it would be to have something from this conversation.
“Because you seem angry”
Leah snorts and looks at the handle of the door. She putted her hands on her hips now and is shaking her head.
“Am I supposed to be happy when my girlfriend is getting flirted with by someone else?”
“No, that is why I wanted to talk to you too. I just…”
“Do you know her?” Leah cuts you.
This time her eyes are deep inside yours and you know that you can’t lie to her. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anyway, but with her eyes scanning your soul, it would have been impossible.
“I… We slept together some time ago” you finally sigh.
“When?”
“Just before the Euros”
You know that Leah knows perfectly that your first kiss happened after the semi-finals against Sweden and the happiness of the victory. You were the first shocked when she kissed you after some naughty dancing, but you kissed her back and the rest of the night probably made her understand very much how much you were fancying her already.
It’s even stronger now, of course.
But Leah is looking at you like she’s going to kill you.
“Don’t look at me like that, Le. I didn't know that several weeks later you would kiss me. I didn’t know you were interested in me at this point.”
You try to take her hand with yours, but she takes it away from you, before opening the door again.
“Well you can go back fucking her in that case”
“Leah!”
She slams the door, almost pinning your fingers inside. When you manage to get outside too, Leah isn’t here anymore. You decide to go back to the training room and try to talk to her again, but when you arrive, Sarina is right behind you, asking you to go training.
You aren’t really concentrating during the training to be honest; you keep looking at Leah, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even share a look with you when you are right behind her at the beginning of the game.
You really hope that a win will ease her mood and help you to reconcile with Leah. You turn when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning your bigger frame towards Keira. She just smiles at you, and you nod only. You are too nervous to smile, but you are glad to know that you have at least one of Leah’s friends on your side. You are sure that Leah explained everything to them.
You take a deep breath when it’s time to go on the pitch, trying to focus on the game. The national anthems help you and you keep a straight face when you check all the Italian players, even Milena.
You do your usual check with Lucy too, looking for good luck before starting the game. England is supposed to be the favourites, but Italy is fighting with all their strength. Your forwards manage to have good opportunities, but without being able to score for now.
After the first half, no one scored, and you had to use some of your best moves to avoid taking a goal or two.
You just nod when Sarina congratulates you in the locker room. Leah is still not looking at you, as if you weren’t even here. It creates a strange feeling in your throat. You are happy that Lucy is just next to you, even if she’s not talking, your friend’s presence is good for you.
When the game starts again, you realise with anxiety that Milena and her other teammates change their side, meaning that Leah is the one marking Milena from now.
But Leah manages to take the upper hand on Milena every single time, using with ability her slide tackles. You are happy when Alessia finally manages to score around the seventy minutes.
Five minutes later, Sarina made all the different changes she was planning to, leaving Lucy and Leah in the defence but changing Millie and Maya in the same move. You don’t have a lot of time to get used to that though, because soon Italy won a corner, and you have to focus again on the game.
You can’t really explain what happened. Your eyes were on the ball when the Italian player shot it in the middle of the surface. But the knock you received on your head suddenly makes everything dizzy and you fall on the ground without really realising it.
There is a wheezing and everything else sounds like you were underwater. You feel hands on you, someone slapping your cheek, two fingers looking for your pulse in your neck.
You don’t know if it’s because it’s Leah or if it’s because she’s screaming right above your head, but you hear her distinctly shout
“Don’t fucking touch her! Let her breathe!”
And the panic in her voice finally makes you open your eyes. It’s the same feeling when you are sleepy, and Leah wakes you after you fall asleep in front of a movie to go to bed. Your eyes are heavy, the light is too bright too. You wince and close your eyes almost as soon as you open them, pressing your hand on your head.
“Y/N? Hey Baby, can you hear me?”
Leah’s voice is softer than you ever heard it, and you groan for only an answer. Your head is pounding.
“Can you roll on your back?”
You recognize the voice of one of the people from the medical team. You groan once more and roll on the ground, lying now on your back. You warily open your eyes, thankful that someone is hiding the lights of the pitch with their frame. You frown softly when you realise that it’s Milena
“I’m sorry Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”
“It’s okay” Leah cuts her harshly. “She needs to get looked at; can you leave?”
You perfectly see the staff member smile at each other before turning their attention to you again.
They ask you several questions, make you sit, look at their fingers and look at a light too. It’s not an enjoyable experience to be honest, it hurts, and you have trouble staying focused.
“I think it’s a concussion” one of them finally says. “It would be better for you to get out of the pitch.”
“No” you frown. “Sarina made all the substitutions already. I can’t leave.”
“Of course you can” Leah interjects. “No one would blame you. It’s safer like th– “
“Leah. I’m playing.”
Her light blue eyes went right into your eyes. You don’t look away, Leah might be stubborn, but you are too when you really want something. And you want to play, you want to prove to her that she can count on you no matter what. You know you have hurt her and maybe bummed after your revelation earlier. You want to take amend of that.
When she opens her mouth to answer, you look at the medical staff.
“Am I allowed to play?”
They hesitate for several seconds, looking at you silently.
“If I let you play, you have to swear that if you don’t feel good, or dizzy, or tired, you will stop the game and get out of the pitch. Can we make this deal?”
You nod and he nods back, before helping you to get up. You take some water from the bottle he gave you, splashing some of it on your face too. You feel tired to be honest and the lights are killing you. But you are determined to end this game.
“Y/N.”
You turn in Leah’s direction and it’s easy to see the concern in her eyes. You smile softly at her while your teammates and the opposite team are coming back on the pitch.
“I’ll be fine, Leah”
She sighs and you feel her gaze on you when you go back to the goal. You don’t see her or hear her turning to the players around her, telling them not to let anyone come near your goal.
They manage to do it greatly to be honest, and you are glad for it. You have to make some intervention, like grabbing the ball in the air for example. Jumping was fine, but the shock when you fall on the ground is harsh.
When the whistle of the referee finally sounds, signalling the end of the game, you are more relieved than ever. Closing your eyes, you let your tired body sliding along one of the two posts on your goal.
“You’re alright mate?”
You don’t open your eyes but nod at Lucy’s question, feeling her hand on your shoulder without seeing it.
“Do you need help to get up?”
“Please” you mumble.
She makes you stand as easily as you were a 5-year-old child, making you smile softly. You thank Maya with gratefulness when she gives you your things waiting behind the goal and slowly make your way to the locker room.
You look around to see where Leah is, which isn’t missed by Beth who is walking on your other side.
“She’s answering some questions for the TV” the blonde informs you.
You groan and drink more water, still walking. Pretty slowly, you must admit. But you feel dizzy, and you sigh internally when you see Milena running in your direction.
“Hey” she says, with her Italian accent. “Look, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry” you answer with a soft smile. “I’ll need some rest tonight and maybe tomorrow, but other than that it’s okay.”
You watch her bite her lips, like if she’s thinking about something to say. And how to say it. You really hope that she won’t ask you out now, because you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.
“Can I write to you tomorrow? To know how you are feeling. I really feel very guilty”
You were going to answer something, but you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and a body suddenly pressed against yours.
“She will post an update on her Instagram tomorrow. And don’t worry for her, she’s between great hands” Leah says, before looking at you. “Are you okay to leave, Babe?”
You repress a smile and take a small breath.
“Yeah, let’s go. See you”
You give a smile to Milena, who you feel sorry for. You know that she never meant to hurt you, but Leah seems to take her for the only responsible of the accident.
“You know that I wasn’t looking either?” you mumble to Leah.
“It doesn’t matter. Sarina told me we can leave now; the staff asked for a taxi so we don’t have to wait on anyone. Would you like to shower in your hotel room rather than here?”
“Sounds good” you mumble again.
In a record time, Leah manages to take all your things and put them in your two bags, change herself in a training suit and help you to do the same. You are starting to feel tired and dozens in the cab on Leah’s shoulder.
“Baby you have to wake up. I can’t carry you in your room” Leah whispers when you are in front of the hotel, gently kissing your temple.
Usually, you love the fact that you are higher than Leah. You love how she easily fits in your arms, how you can hold her and feel like you are protecting her from everything and everyone.
But right now, you really would love for her to be able to carry you.
She does a bit though, holding you firmly against her while you are going to the lift and then to your room. You let yourself fall on the bed when you arrive inside your room, letting Leah deal with your bags and everything else.
“Come on Baby, we have to wash the game out of you. Then you can go in bed until the staff members come again”
“I just want to sleep” you groan.
“I know. But you will feel better.”
You do feel better, Leah is right. She helps you to take your shower, affectionately dry you with a towel after, help you to put fresh pajamas on and then even brush your teeth and your hair.
She then takes a quick shower too and it’s with wet hair and in one of your t-shirts that she opens the door of your room for the staff. The t-shirt easily covers her smaller frame, the tissue going until her knees.
They make some more tests on you, asking several questions to Leah too. You have trouble staying focused, but only because you are very tired. You don’t hear them leaving, opening your eyes again when you feel the bed move when Leah crawls on it.
“Are you sure you’re not in pain?”
You hum, snuggling against her warm body. They gave you some morphine earlier anyway. Leah lets you do it and you sigh happily when she starts to stroke your neck with her fingers.
“I’m sorry for the way I reacted because of your ex”
Leah’s whisper takes you by surprise. You probably almost never heard Leah saying that she was sorry for something so serious. Opening your eyes again, you search hers.
“I’m sorry for the way you learned it” you whisper back. “But it has nothing to do with you. It was before knowing you could be in any way interested in me. I was still in my “Forgetting Leah” era”
Leah chuckles and you smile hearing that sound. You close your eyes again, the tiredness being more and more hard to fight against.
“I’m glad you never managed to get over me” Leah says after some silence, playing with your hair.
“I will never be able to get over you”
You feel like your voice is low and your words aren’t very well articulated, but Leah seems to understand very easily what you are saying.
“I was hoping to” Leah mumbles too. “Now sleep, you little menace.”
You groan softly once again, making Leah smile. You happily let her kiss your face several times, finishing with your lips. You manage to whisper that you love her and it seems to you that Leah say it back, but you are not really sure. Because you are already asleep then.
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pedgito · 5 months ago
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𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 — one: beginnings | Joel Miller x reader
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chapter summary | You're dead weight, a burden on Joel's shoulders after the death of his daughter and the collapse of the world. But, if there's one person to challenge him, it was you.
author's note | this spurred from jo (@undercoverpena) and i, a conversation over kinks and wanting to explore them in separate chapters but somehow create a cohesive story and here we are. she spun for me and gave me a collection of beautiful kinks to try out. this is going to be BIG one for me, so if you plan on staying along for this ride, i love you so much.
chapter warnings | 18+, early outbreak, age gap (early 20s, mid 30s), canon character de*th, canon typical violence, m*rder tw, morally grey!joel with trust issues, tommy is buffer, use of weapons, weapon training, unjust decision making, reader is such a nuisance to joel, sex as a distraction, joel is so emotionally stunted he can't help it, awkward aftercare
word count —6k
SERIES MASTERLIST, PLAYLIST, AO3
You’ve never seen so much blood.
His shirt was soaked to his neck, expression blank and void as Tommy rounded the truck to open the door—it wasn’t the same one you’ve seen pull into their driveway for years now. It was new, unfamiliar. Joel’s weighed down, his arms straining as he heaves whatever he’s holding up in his arms, finally coming from around the door and into view. Her curls fell first, body limp in Joel’s arm as he held her close–it was Sarah. Little Sarah who you would babysit in high school for extra cash when the Miller brothers had to work a few extra jobs to pay the bills, little Sarah who always had the biggest smile on her face. Not so little anymore, years gone and passed as you graduated and went off to work some dead-end job to stay afloat in hopes that you could attempt to pay a college tuition.
But, that all seemed futile now. 
It was late September when the world ended—Joel’s birthday, you’d know that from the fact Sarah had mentioned it to you that morning as she checked the mail that Joel had forgotten from the day before. A normal day for you, for everyone else. But, for Sarah and many others, it was their last.
The neighborhood was quiet now, the hoard of freshly turned infected heading for the inner city and toward the noise, like one singular hivemind following a predetermined path. 
And your parents—they weren’t even here. They had left for vacation a week prior, spending the next two weeks out of the country, celebrating their anniversary far away from responsibility and the barrage of news from all over the world. But, they would come back to nothing. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t wait around—it would get you killed; starvation, lack of resources, it would only get you so far. 
The infection was worldwide, incurable—it was the last thing you heard before the satellite on your television cut out, snuffing out any last bit of hope you had left.
In the midst of Joel’s mindless walk to the front door of his home, Tommy glances over his shoulder to survey, likely for more infected. But, he spots you.
His eyes squint slightly, like he’s seeing a vision of you. They widen as he realizes you’re real, you here—you were shaking, arms crossed over your chest and your fingers digging into your biceps as you hid by the shadow of your door.
Tommy knows that look, your eyes go wide but soften as he approaches. 
You can’t say you’ve held a conversation longer than five minutes with either of them, even after living next to them most of your life, but his hands are held up as he approaches and carefully, almost as if you were going to scurry away like a feral cat.
“You alright, honey?” His voice is quiet, a hushed whisper as he comes closer and stops a few inches, peering inside of your house and finding it empty, “Are they—did they—”
He looks over at you wearily and your fingers dig into your skin, peering over his shoulder and staring at the open door, Joel no longer in sight, “They left on a trip and I—I don’t,” You sigh through your nose, closing your eyes to blink away the stinging tears, “They’re dead either way, aren’t they?”
He doesn’t answer, but his hand reaches around to rub at your back and you fall into him easily.
“Sarah–” Tommy tenses up, pulling away slowly to look at you as you peer up at him, noticing the near permanent frown on your face, your expression unchanging as you attempt to process and fail—it wasn’t fair, none of it made sense, “is she dead?”
The sound of something fragile falling and breaking in Joel’s house startles you both, sending you both apart and rushing toward the house without thinking. The idea of being alone now was more fearful than anything else—no survival instinct, no plan or method to stay alive. You’d be dead by next nightfall if you stuck around though, that much you knew.
The sight sends your heart into your stomach. Joel was hunched over Sarah’s lifeless body, his arms sticky with blood—some of it dried and some of it not. There were a few broken picture frames on the floor at Sarah’s feet and you felt your breath catching in your throat, watching as Joel brushed her hair from her face and cried, silently.
“Joel,” Tommy begins, slow and careful, “we’ve gotta figure out a plan.”
“We’re buryin’ her first,” Joel tells him, “not leavin’ her like this.”
Tommy nods in understanding, looking over at you briefly.
“Listen, Joel…”
“She ain’t our problem, Tommy.” He bites harshly, resting Sarah down gently as he rose from his knees, “Kid’s got her own family.”
“Joel,” Tommy stresses, motioning toward you subtly—Joel looks reluctantly and he can see the fear, practically smelling it on you—it’s the last thing he needs right now, “they’re gone—can’t leave her here.”
“We can.”
“We won’t.”
You take a few careful steps back, quiet and timid, away from the brothers.
“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy moves in, blocking his brother’s face from view as you lingered near the open front door, staring out toward the street as you couldn’t bare the sight of Sarah’s body laying a few feet to your right, “she used to babysit Sarah—helped you out in a pinch a hundred times. I understand this—”
“This is my daughter—”
“She’s my niece too, goddammit—don’t try and spin this, Joel.” Tommy rocks on his heels, hands hugging his hips as his shoulders stretch out, broad and wide, “We bury her, we get our shit and we go–I’m not losing you, too. I will drag your ass out of here if I have to.”
There’s a sliver of Joel’s face that comes into view as he peers over Tommy’s shoulder at you, eyes dragging over you carefully before he returns to Tommy, “She’s ain’t worth the trouble.”
He’s completely tossing aside the fact that you were an adult, young but still—you sigh shakily, “I can carry my own weight, you know?”
He’s stoic, a long stretch of silence as Tommy stares him down, lingering and waiting for Joel to come to his senses, but even when he does—it’s forced.
“Then start loading the truck,” Joel tells you, “anything—food, water—”
“Yeah, I got it.” You respond in a pinched tone, trying to stifle your own emotions.
Joel doesn’t argue further, picking up Sarah with a sudden gentleness that returns at the sight of his daughter while Tommy disappears to the attached garage and you linger for a brief moment as Joel admires her, knowing that this was all he had. Knowing that eventually even this memory would fade over time.
His guard softens as he looks at her and you find that was the right time to speak more candidly.
“I’m sorry, Joel,” You tell him, your voice quiet as you approach and he looks at you briefly, acknowledging with a nod as you move beyond him and toward the kitchen, “she’s a sweet kid.”
His voice breaks but barely wavers, a subtle sign of emotion that he was suppressing deep down.
“She was.”
His departure after that is quiet, meeting Tommy at the backdoor as he reentered from the garage with the shovels and blanket in hand, a sorrowful look on his face that furrowed his brow.
They both worked silently in the backyard while you loaded up what you could. Their house was mostly scarce, knowing Joel was probably creeping up on a shopping day that would never come. There’s a few canned goods you manage to scavenge along with a decently untouched pack of water bottles and while you couldn’t brave the other houses in fear that something else might be lingering, you gather what you can from your own. 
By the time you’re closing up the truck bed they’re both walking toward you, a gun tucked away in both of their waistbands and a rifle in Joel’s free hand—his arms were cleaner, albeit still dirty.
He’d changed, rid himself of the bloody clothes and brushed past you silently, his eyes dark and empty. 
Tommy stops at your feet, offering up a knife sheathed in a leather casing that you could attach to your jeans, “Ain’t got another gun, but it’s somethin’.”
You nod slightly and take it from his grip, “Thank you,” You tell him, turning to find Joel waiting with the door open, expecting that you would climb into the middle as there was nowhere for you to go, unless the truck bed seemed like the better option—it didn’t.
It was blind trust, putting your life in the hands of both brothers. 
But, you had no choice. All that mattered was living.
And for Joel, the cost didn’t matter.
It’s jarring, frightening. His emotions are like a light switch—when on, he’s calm and able to hold small talk, but even that was forced and uneasy. But, when your supply dwindles down after a week or so of driving and camping in the deep brush of forest, you find what the light switch is like when it’s off.
It was a stranger, a helpless guy alone and clearly on the verge of death. All of you were on edge, the dwindling September heat still lingered into October and you had blew through your last bottle of water the night before, sweat dampening your clothes as you sifted through the aisles of the convenience store that was bare bones and empty by now but you were hoping, praying—but then you hear it and to Joel, it was prey. 
He yanks your knife from where it’s secured at your waist, so quick you barely even feel the tug as he carefully steps around the corner toward the counter, finding an older gentleman with feeble hands and energy that was dying out by the second. He was starving, dehydrated. But, so were you. And so was Joel.
“Joel, don’t.” You speak from behind him, “There’s another store in town. It’s bigger.”
“Hand it over,” Joel demands, the knife tucked away in his right hand behind his back as he held out his left, beckoning with his fingers as the man stared on, bottom lip trembling in fear as he squeezed at the plastic bottle, “now.”
There’s a moment of hesitation where the man begins to speak, shaking his head, but Joel is on him before he gets the chance, shoving the knife through the center of his throat—quick, quiet, efficient. You sigh deeply, knowing it was already coming. Joel wipes the blood away on the now dead man’s pants and snatches up the water bottle before he’s shoving it into your chest and sliding the knife back into the holster.
“You killed him,” Joel looks at you torsely, eyes half-lidded as he waits for you to continue, “you—you didn’t have to kill him, Joel.”
“You’re welcome,” He answers with finality, “Tommy’s waiting’, let’s go.”
You glance at the dead body with a grimace, the weight of it pulling down as the man slumped to the floor and his blood pooled closer and closer toward you. You step back quickly and follow after Joel who’s already ringing the bells on the door above the entrance.
“That was quick—no trouble?” Tommy asks when you return to the truck, climbing over Joel’s lap as he refuses to move, digging your knee into his thigh out of annoyance.
He takes it in stride, though. Doesn’t even react.
“No,” You lie easily, “Last one, though.”
You’ve learned to not speak on it—Joel’s quick tendencies for anger and bruteness. Hell, most of the time you could just ignore it, like now. Arguing never worked, Joel didn’t care enough.
Besides, you were just a waste of resources. Joel said it so often that it echoed in the back of your mind every time he slashed, stabbed, or gutted someone for something you needed, or wanted.
It started in small glimpses, you or Tommy could say a word, make a noise, and Joel’s brow would pinch together and the scowl on his face would deepen. 
And Tommy was objectively selfless, which bothered Joel more than it should—but given how things were, it made sense. Good karma wasn’t going to do anything for your conscience in a world that was based on self-preservation. In Joel’s mind, it was kill or be killed. And he always killed first. He learned not to take chances, hold out on good faith. It didn’t exist anymore.
And he didn’t just attack on his own behalf—he’s done it for you on a few occasions. You’ve never killed an infected, Joel always got the first hit in. Your knife would be at the ready, shaky in your grip and he would look over at you with dismay, knowing that if you did manage to have a shot you would ultimately miss. So, instead of coaching, he yanks the knife from your grip and plunges it into the skull of the infected. 
He hides his tendencies from Tommy well for a while—you always sensed Joel’s underlying itch for conflict after Sarah’s ultimate death and the few weeks you spend together on the road. You didn’t stay anywhere longer than a couple days, different cities throughout Texas as you made your way upstate. Utah, Boston, Pittsburg. Anywhere but here.
The early mornings in the forest after an uncomfortable sleeping arrangement—no rain meant sleeping in the bed of the truck or setting up camp in the one tent you had to share. But, when it did, the three of you would be forced to hunker down inside the four feet of truck cabin with nowhere to angle yourself but one of the brothers. Joel almost always shrugged you away, so by default, Tommy was the one you always chose. He didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.
Regardless, early mornings usually meant that Tommy would take his time teaching you a few things while Joel slept heavy in the truck, the low rumble of his snore heard as you both paused and Tommy readjusted the position of the knife in your grip.
“If you’re gonna hold it the way you gotta keep the dull side close to your arm,” He tightens your fist around the handle, “that way you ain’t accidentally cutting yourself with your own blade.”
You nod, squeezing down on your grip until it feels comfortable and Tommy leads your hand back toward you before guiding it through and back towards him slowly, “Always aim for the head on infected—right to the brain, kills ‘em instantly.”
You already knew that, but the reiterating is a nice reminder. 
Everything had a weakness.
“People,” Tommy starts hesitantly, “I mean, they’re livin’ and breathin’—if you let them close enough anywhere is gonna hurt them, but try to aim for the neck or the face.”
The stark image of Joel forcing the knife through the center of the man’s throat is heavy on your mind and Tommy pats on your arm as you lower it, but your eyes focus on his waist.
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
Tommy looks at you wearily—not because he doesn’t trust you, but there’s something there.
“What happens if one of you is in trouble?” You ask him, pressing on the issue. “And I’m the only one who can do anything? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I’m not asking for everything, just enough to know. Tommy, come on.”
Tommy sighs, scratching at his slightly grown-out facial hair. It wasn’t nearly as thick as Joel’s, but it was clear you had all been deprived of basic hygiene over the last several weeks.
“Alright,” He relents, but holds up a finger at you, “Just the basics, for now.”
“I mean, Joel’s planning to drop me off at the nearest QZ anyways,” You joke, shoving your knife into the casing at your waist as Tommy pulls the gun out of where it’s tucked into the back of his jeans, “might as well learn as much as I can before then.”
“He won’t,” Tommy assures you, “we’re not abandoning you like that.”
You didn’t agree, but you push the words back down and take the gun that Tommy is offering as he comes to your side, arms coming around your back and around you. He’s positioning your fingers alongside his own and speaking over your shoulder and neither of you hear the car door that opens over your shoulder.
Within seconds the gun is being yanked from your grip and into Joel’s, his fingers dangling through the loop of the trigger and his eyes locked on his brother, “You lost your damn mind?”
Tommy snatches the gun back from his brother, tucking it away into his waistband.
“She’s got just as much reason to learn,” Tommy argues, “—I don’t see you makin’ an effort to teach her anything.”
“It’s not my problem,” Joel says dismissively, “we’re better off just doing the work ourselves. Kid can’t even kill an infected, she’s not gonna save your ass in a gunfight, either.”
The frustration in you boils, simmering over the edge as you push through both of them and toward the truck, closing the door with a slam as their angered voices muffle into the cabin of the truck.
“She’s not our problem, Tommy,” Joel tells him, “the sooner you realize that the better.”
“That why you plan on droppin’ her off on the doorstep of the first QZ we stumble into?”
There’s a long beat of silence before Joel speaks, “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Tommy answers, his voice laced with smugness that even you could hear, “she’s already got it set in her mind that you will and you know what—don’t blame her, either.”
Eventually, the argument settles. It’s abrupt and both of them sandwich next to you in silence as Tommy follows the path back to the road, his fingers drumming quietly against the steering wheel. But, you can feel the charge of Joel’s frustration as his fingers twist around each other. You tune it out eventually, the silence drowned out by the low hum of a cassette tape that was playing a song you had heard a thousand times by now.
You knew your own weakness was hope and it was dwindling every day.
-
By Denver, you’re all irritable. Eleven hours cramped in a truck on days of very little sleep and small scraps of meals you’ve made stretch for weeks. All the tension, arguing, and frustrations comes to a head when you stumble upon an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town, close to the mountains and secluded. It was perfect. 
There was a large, brushy forest to hunt and it was right beside a stream. You knew it was better than nothing and that the three of you could make it work for a time—the only problem, it was already occupied.
“Stay in the truck,” Joel orders to you, cocking his gun in his lap before he’s stuffing it back into his jeans and nodding at Tommy to follow. You almost expect him to argue, but he doesn’t. He follows, like a dutiful little brother as they both stalk toward the cabin calmly.
It was one car, clearly hot-wired and stolen alongside its broken windows.
It was clear that whoever was in the cabin wasn’t the original owners either, spotting the pile of dead infected burned to a crisp beside a stack of logs that you assumed were to keep the fire burning inside the house, watching as the black smoke creeped out of the chimney.
The minutes that pass feel like an hour and you begin to wander if they both decided to keep going, abandon you and try their chances down the stretch of highway without you.
You scoot into the driver’s seat and open the door, stepping out carefully as they muddy ground causes you to slip until you regain traction and as you close the door you hear it—a loud crash, a scuffle, and then Tommy’s voice alongside Joel’s.
You run in without thinking, crashing through the slightly open door to find them both with their arms around the neck of two other men, the strangers your eyes set on are already fading. They claw, scramble for air but they’re losing. Joel slams the butt of his gun into the back of the head of the guy he’s holding before they’re both twisting at their necks in unison, the signifying crack louder than the bodies as they hit the ground.
It isn’t shocking as it should be, having seen so many people on the other end of Joel’s violence—but for Tommy, the guilt of you having to witness that is immediate.
“Kiddo, I’m sorry,” He approaches, his hands out in front of him—he was approaching you the same way he had on outbreak day, timid and careful, “you shouldn’t have had to see that.”
You glance at Joel briefly who’s gun drops to the floor behind him as he heaves the dead man up in his arms and drags him out the back door of the cabin, there’s a subtle shake to his head at Tommy’s words that makes your ears ring, drowning out his profuse apologies.
“It’s us or them, right?”
It cuts off his line of speech and his eyebrows raise slightly, “What?”
“Us or them—I’m always going to choose us, for as long as that is. Joel would too.”
Suddenly he realizes that his justifying is naut as Joel rounds the corner and continues to drag the other body out before he’s joining you both in silence as he rubs his hands against his jacket.
“Alright, uh—I want you both to settle in here, try and make it more homey for the time being. I’m gonna drive into town and see what supplies I can scavenge, should be back by nightfall.”
“I’ll come with you,” Joel adds, but Tommy stops him.
“No,” He tells his brother, a quick shake of his head, “stay here with her, get another fire going.”
And for once, Joel listens to his younger brother. His tongue is poking at his cheek as he looks away with a begrudging annoyance as he stalks toward the fireplace.
“Keep an eye on him,” Tommy whispers to you, “alright?”
You nod and smile at the gentle squeeze to your bicep that Tommy offers as he departs.
When he’s gone, the silence is deafening. Joel’s gun was still on the floor, somehow forgotten by the man who never let anything slip past him, always on guard, always ready to attack.
His back is turned when you pick up the gun, the deafening click making his head turn on a swivel.
-
He’s on you in seconds, standing from his crouched position but you were quicker, stuffing the gun behind your back with a faint smile, taking a few steps away.
“Give it to me,” Joel commands, palm extended in waiting.
“Not like you to leave stuff layin’ around,” you comment jestingly, “I think I’ll keep it for a bit.”
He stalks, heavy footsteps against the hardwood floor as you retreat further and further until you’ve ultimately cornered yourself and Joel lunges for it behind your back but you take the opportunity to sweep under his arm and slip from his grip, dangling the gun from the grip of it with two fingers.
“What? You don’t trust me with it?” you taunt, “Think I’m gonna shoot you, don’t you?”
“I’m not askin’ again,” He charges and despite your quick reflex his hand is on your wrist first, the other coming around your neck as he presses you against the back of an old, dusty couch. It creaks under your weight and sends a cloud of dust up with the movement, “drop it.”
“Say it to my face,” you retort behind a strangled tone, feeling the heavy pressure of his thick fingers around your throat, tilting your chin up at his face where he towers over you, “say it and I’ll go—you won’t see me again, hear from me. I won’t be your responsibility anymore.”
Joel shakes your wrist and squeezes and the gun drops, clattering against the floor but he doesn’t let go, not yet.
“You’ll die out there.”
You squint your eyes in disbelief, a soft laugh bubbling from your chest.
“Yeah, I’ve heard you repeat that to Tommy a million times over the last few months.”
You pull at his grip but find that it only tightens, your fingers clawing at the hand around your throat, his fingers tucked under your jaw as it pulls your chin up and up, nearly touching his chest with how close he is to you now, your feet scrambling slightly underneath your for proper footing as you leaned against the couch. 
You speak again, hoping to crawl under his skin and make him uneasy, bothered.
“What? Sudden change of heart?” you ask, “Suddenly I’m worth protecting? Tommy would love to know about the handful of men you’ve killed in my honor, you know?”
Joel’s face twitches at that, his eyes dragging toward the gun on the floor—that was your window.
You force your knees up and into his stomach, shoving him away as he stumbles but the feeling of his arm coming around your abdomen has you squirming, turning and hitting him with weak, balled up fists that didn’t amount to half the strength he encompassed. It was barely a struggle for him.
Eventually you give up, waiting and waiting for him to let you go. His gaze is heavy, almost curious in the way he watches you go through the stages of resistance to acceptance and then finally giving up before your eyes are peering up at him, pressed against him at every point of contact, the cold metal of his belt buckle digging into your stomach.
“You’re stuck with me and I’m sorry,” you tell him out of desperation, “I just want to learn and you could teach—”
It takes you a second to process when his lips press against yours, a biting kiss that is forceful and startling, gasping into his mouth at the action but your body reacts instinctively, arms wrapping around his neck and hands fisting into his hair, the subtle essence of salt and pepper that was only noticeable this close. Joel groans softly, the first true and honest sound that has come from him all evening.
“Irritating,” Joel speaks against your lips, mumbled as he leads you, bumping your legs against the arm of the couch before you’re both tumbling over, “—do you ever fuckin’ shut up?”
He’s coined you vexatious in his own mind, not realizing how impossible he was to be around either—stubborn, impossible. An unmoving force of rigidness, but here he was—pliable to the fingers that slip under his shirt as he settles between your open legs, his own pulling at the button of your jeans.
You don’t need words, knowing that you both have communicated off eye contact at a level that was never spoken about but just worked. It clicked and when he pushed, you gave into the blow.
Silently you work alongside his own hands, pushing your jeans down and off. You kick them to the floor, working at your underwear while he undoes his own jeans, feeling like you were both working against the clock with your heart hammering in your chest. He was eager, impatient—still Joel, but it was a new look. It was the dynamic that, for you, felt like the missing piece.
Weeks of constant bickering and side-eyed glances all boiling down to one break in his mulish personality, this was the resolve.
The warm touch of his palm against your upper thighs pull your attention to him and he breathes out harshly through his nostrils, his jeans shoved down his thighs and his free hand palming himself over his underwear, squeezing at your skin as he offers only one word in acknowledgement. A question.
“Yeah?”
You nod shakily, answering with a soft, “Yes.”
-
There is no build-up, no gentle touching that leads to soft caresses as Joel presses himself inside of you. His hand is gripping the arm of the couch above your head as he grips himself at the base of his cock before he’s pushing in with one solid jerk of his hips, a hurried and desperate movement to bury himself inside of you. Your fingers pull at the hair by his nape and he grunts, head pulling back as he snapped his hips back and pushed into you again, sharp and angered. His jaw was tense, the subtle peek of teeth bared behind his lips
It’s a harsh disjunction; a man you would watch from your window on weekends as he spent mornings chasing Sarah out in the lawn—softer, happier. Her protector.
With reluctance, he’s become your own. Whether he would admit it aloud or not, he knows. But, it isn’t the same—you were extra baggage, a burden, but one he felt chained too. And more importantly, distraction.
You could see his humanity slipping week by week, a dull shell of himself most days. He won’t even look at you now, his eyes squeezed shut as he thrusts into you, your eyes dragging from his face to his cock, your hand traveling down to fist at his shirt, dragging it up his stomach. 
The dark, coarse hair at the base of his cock traveled up his stomach, across his thighs. Big, strong thighs that held your legs apart and the thickness of him ached, stretched you open after months of unintentional celibacy forcing you to grip him tight, wincing with every continuous snap of his hips, feeling a hand come around to cup the back of your head, cradling it as his forehead drops and presses against your own, blocking your line of sight and forcing your eyes closed. Just feel, he’s trying to convey. Don’t think.
And it works, lingering thoughts fading away as pleasure bleeds in. His top lip grazing against the round part of your nose, his hot breath fanning over your mouth as he huffs and you moan against him, a soft and broken noise that only forces his grip to tighten against the back of your head and the other hand at your thigh, finger digging into the flesh so harshly that the ache would linger for days.
You feel the crest creeping up on you but it isn’t enough, slipping your fingers between your body silently, but the fingers around your wrist startle you, dragging you back to the surface and opening your eyes to his, his expression earnest but stoic.
“Don’t,” He shakes his head, “—just close your eyes, I got it.”
You can’t find the energy inside to argue, feeling the hand cradling your head circle around to the crown of your scalp, fingers digging into the hair and pulling taut, forcing your head back and then he’s touching you, two thick fingers circling your clit in time with his harsh, hurried thrusts.
You do close your eyes, feeling the soft tuft of his hair against the side of your face as buries himself there, his movements jerkier as his fingers work quickly, squeezing around him as your fingers dig into his forearm, hips working against his fingers instinctively to search out more and more until you’re tipping over the cliff and free-falling, coming with a soft gasp as he pulls away suddenly, fisting his cock tightly as he came over your stomach, hastily shoving your shirt out of the way as he grunts quietly, his face pinched and completely unreadable when you do finally find the energy to look at him, eyes dragging toward the ceiling as you breathe and try to process what the fuck just happened.
There’s a distant rip of fabric somewhere to the right of you and far away, noticing that Joel’s already redressed when he approaches and wipes gently at the mess of cum dressed across your stomach, shoving your jeans back into your hand in the same movement. 
You look at him oddly, shuffling the jeans and underwear in your grip as you rise, eyes following as he moved around, started building the fire Tommy had told him about a half hour ago and is so glaringly ignoring what had transpired just now—you move quickly, redressing to avoid the judgment if he looked back and you were still staring.
And you notice the itch, the unavoidable twitch in his shoulders as he can’t settle with his movements, occupying himself to keep running on the clear adrenaline high he was on—he’d killed a man and immediately directed his frustration at you and used it as a means to stall, distract, satiate that monster dwelling inside him that always came out around you.
“So, can I leave now?” You ask him, his eyes peeking over his shoulder as he shoved a new pile of wood into the fireplace, “Are we finished?”
“You’re not leaving,” Joel tells you—you weren’t moving, weren’t planning to, but you wanted to see where the conversation would go, whether Joel would admit that he cared more than he let on, his emotions so stunted since Sarah that they came out in bouts of violence and rage, “I’d never hear the end of it.”
You offer a smug chuckle in response, “So, I was right. You don’t want me around.”
Joel turns on his knee, allowing you to see the remnants of flush in his cheeks, his messy hair and his response that rips a hole straight through your chest, “I’m stuck with you because Tommy wants you around.”
It wasn’t a direct answer, but you could read into it enough.
You glance over the back of the couch, wondering if the gun was still laying on the floor where Joel had squeezed it out of your grip, but the click to your right has you turning in an instant, staring down the barrel of Joel’s gun.
“You got a lot to learn,” Your glare is less than impressed as it lands on him, petulant and annoyed, “Don’t ever touch my gun again, alright?”
“Oh,” you respond airily, an impish smile creeping onto your face as you tilted your head slightly, “so—you fucked me as punishment or because of some silly little fantasy you've always had of fucking your neighbors daughter?”
And to your surprise, Joel's response is less angered.
“You could do with a little punishment,” He rises on his knees, pocketing the gun back in his jeans, and smirking at your dumb-founded expression, “—couldn’t you?”
Joel approaches closer, motioning with his fingers for you to stand and without thinking, you follow. His subtle smirk grows wider and he’s reaching for the forgotten knife on the floor, having fallen off your pants in the midst of your hurried undressing.
“I ain’t here to teach—I’m keepin’ us alive. The sooner you learn to shut up and follow, the better,” He reaches for your hand, placing the knife into your open palm, “and you kissed back, so that look on your face, that regret—”
“Who said there was regret?”
Joel’s eyes stick to you, meeting yours fiercely for a moment as you take the knife from him and reattach it to the loop on your jeans. His tongue licks at his bottom lip briefly, watching the subtle grin spread across your face.
Your words were a challenge. 
And for you, that meant game on. 
-
dividers creds: @/saradika-graphics
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kiesbrainjuice · 6 months ago
Note
hi! req- hq charaters reaction to finding out yn sleeps always hugging a pillow
please feel no rush/pressure for this and take care of yourself :)
-- HQ BOYS SEEING YOU HUGGING YOUR PILLOW AT NIGHT !
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syn : hq boys seeing you hugging your pillow as you waited for them at night
wc : 6.5k
tw : none ! pure fluff
a/n : thanks for your request and support !! I love the idea ! I dunno if what I did was what you asked precisely but enjoy reading <3
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The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the thin curtains. The soft hum of the city outside was a constant lullaby, a distant reminder that life continued even as you lay alone in bed. You had been waiting for him, but sleep had crept in like a thief, stealing the time you intended to spend awake, waiting for his return. The bed felt vast and empty without him, a hollow space that you tried to fill with the embrace of your pillow. It wasn’t the same, but it was all you had in his absence.
Half-asleep, you clung to the pillow, its soft fabric a poor substitute for the warmth and solidity of his body. Your mind floated in the strange space between dreams and wakefulness, where thoughts and images blend into an incoherent but oddly comforting haze. In your dreamlike state, you could almost feel his presence, imagine his arms around you, his breath against your neck. The thought made you smile even in your semi-conscious state, a fleeting expression of contentment that lingered on your lips.
Then you heard the soft click of the front door, the creak of the floorboards under his familiar weight. He was home. The thought cut through your drowsiness, stirring you enough to be aware of the moment but not fully awake. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, savoring the anticipation of his touch, the reassurance that he was finally here.
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You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you. His movements were careful, considerate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. But you were already awake, your senses attuned to him in a way that felt almost instinctual. He leaned over, and you could feel his gaze on you, a soft, loving presence that enveloped you even in the darkness.
“You’re always hugging your pillow,” he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that brushed against the edges of your consciousness. There was amusement in his tone, a fondness that made your heart swell.
You felt his hand on your shoulder, a light, reassuring touch that sent a ripple of warmth through you. He gently pried the pillow from your grasp, replacing it with his body as he slid in behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and you nestled into him with a contented sigh. The pillow forgotten, you let yourself be enveloped by his warmth, his presence, the familiar rhythm of his breathing.
“I missed you,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. It was a simple statement, but it carried all the weight of the hours spent waiting, the moments of loneliness that melted away now that he was here.
“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble that vibrated through your back where it pressed against his chest. He kissed the back of your neck, a tender gesture that sent shivers down your spine.
You lay there in silence for a while, wrapped up in each other. His hand traced gentle patterns on your skin, a soothing motion that lulled you back towards sleep. You could feel the tension of the day melting away, replaced by a profound sense of peace. With him beside you, the world felt right again.
“Why do you always hug your pillow?” he asked after a while, his tone curious but light. You could hear the smile in his voice, feel it in the way his body relaxed against yours.
“It’s a poor substitute for you,” you admitted, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of his face. Even in the dim light, you could see the affection in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips.
He chuckled softly, the sound a warm caress. “I’ll have to make sure I’m home on time more often, then.”
You smiled, closing your eyes and letting his words wash over you. “I’d like that.”
His grip tightened slightly, a silent promise that he would. You settled back into the comfortable silence, your breaths synchronizing, your hearts beating in time. The city outside continued its endless hum, but in your little cocoon, everything was perfect.
As you drifted back to sleep, you felt his hand slide up to cover yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. You squeezed his hand gently.
AKAASHI, KENMA, KITA, IWAIZUMI, KAGEYAMA
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You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you, his movements deliberate and gentle. There was a pause, a moment where you could sense his gaze on you, taking in the sight of you hugging the pillow like it was a lifeline. You stayed still, savoring the comfort of knowing he was there.
A soft chuckle broke the silence, and you felt his fingers lightly tap your shoulder. “You’re always hugging that pillow,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and affection.
Before you could respond, he leaned over and winked at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His grin widened, and suddenly, he wrestled the pillow from your grasp, pulling it away with a playful flourish.
“Hey!” you protested, your eyes fluttering open, more awake now from the unexpected action. You reached out, trying to grab the pillow back, but he held it just out of reach, laughing softly.
“What’s this?” he teased, holding the pillow up like a trophy. “Is this my competition? Am I being replaced by a pillow?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with his in the dim room. “It’s your fault for being late,” you shot back, trying to snatch the pillow again.
He deftly moved it aside, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your forehead. “Oh, really? And here I thought you’d be waiting up for me.”
“I tried,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I got sleepy.”
He finally relented, tossing the pillow aside and sliding into bed next to you. “Well, I’m here now,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No more pillow hugs. Only me.”
You snuggled into his embrace, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the pillow. “I guess you’ll do,” you teased, your voice muffled against his chest.
His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, a soothing motion that made your eyes flutter shut again. “Just ‘do,’ huh?” he murmured, his tone playful. “I’ll have to work on that.”
“You’re perfect,” you whispered, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble that vibrated through you. “Next time, I’ll try to be home sooner.”
You lay there in silence for a while, the city’s distant noises fading into the background. His presence was a balm, soothing the restlessness that had plagued your sleep. You felt his breath against your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your hand.
“So,” he said after a while, his tone light and teasing, “do I need to be worried about that pillow? Should I be jealous?”
You laughed again, the sound low and sleepy. “No, you’re safe. The pillow’s just a poor substitute for you.”
“Good to know,” he said, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “Because I’m not about to lose to a pillow.”
You smiled, the corners of your mouth lifting as you settled deeper into his embrace. “You’re irreplaceable.”
He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So are you,” he whispered.
The pillow lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, a silent testament to the playful moment you’d shared. As you drifted back to sleep, you felt his hold tighten slightly, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could.
KUROO, NISHINOYA, SUNA, YAMAMOTO, BOKUTO, ATSUMU
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The bed dipped slightly as he sat down beside you. There was a pause, a moment of stillness where you could sense him watching you. You lay there, half-asleep, hugging your pillow in the absence of his embrace.
A soft sigh escaped him, and you felt the faint brush of his fingers against your shoulder. “Really?” he muttered, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and something else. He crossed his arms, and you could sense the shift in his mood even before he spoke again.
“Hey,” he said, louder this time, jostling your shoulder gently. “Wake up.”
You stirred, your eyes fluttering open to find him looking down at you, a slight frown creasing his brow. His arms were crossed, and he was pouting in a way that would have been comical if not for the underlying seriousness.
“Why are you always hugging that pillow?” he asked, his tone a mix of complaint and curiosity. “Am I that easy to replace?”
You blinked, still groggy from sleep, and tried to sit up. “What? No, of course not,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “I just… I was waiting for you, and I fell asleep.”
He uncrossed his arms, but the pout remained. “And the pillow gets to be your cuddle buddy? I’m feeling a little jealous here.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his playful complaint, reaching out to touch his arm. “I missed you. The pillow was just… it’s not the same.”
He sighed, but his expression softened. “You know, I come home expecting a warm welcome, and here you are, all cozy with your pillow.”
You laughed softly, the sound still thick with sleep. “I’m sorry. I promise it’s not as good as you.”
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his attempt to stay stern. “You better mean that.”
You reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. “Come here. Show me why you’re irreplaceable.”
He allowed himself to be pulled, sliding into bed beside you. His arms wrapped around you, and you nestled into his familiar warmth, the pillow forgotten at the edge of the bed. “I guess I can forgive you this time,” he said, his voice softening.
You leaned into him, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”
His hold tightened slightly, his breath warm against your hair. “You’d better.”
You lay there in the quiet, the earlier tension dissolving into the darkness. His presence was a balm, soothing the restlessness that had plagued your sleep. You felt his fingers gently stroke your back, a familiar and comforting gesture.
“So,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter, “why the pillow, anyway? Am I not cuddly enough?”
You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the feel of him beside you. “You’re perfect. The pillow’s just a stand-in until you get home.”
He hummed softly, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “Well, I’m here now. No more pillow hugging.”
“Deal,” you whispered, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.
TSUKISHIMA, LEV, USHIJIMA, OIKAWA, HOSHIUMI, GOSHIKI
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The bed dipped slightly as he sat down beside you. There was a pause, a moment of stillness where you could sense him watching you. You lay there, half-asleep, hugging your pillow in the absence of his embrace.
After a moment, you felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you. The faint glow of the moonlight revealed the hesitant look on his face. He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers twisting together nervously.
He sighed softly, his voice quiet and hesitant when he finally spoke. “Do you not like cuddling with me?” he asked, his tone filled with uncertainty. “I hope I haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make it better.”
His words cut through the haze of your sleep, bringing you fully awake. You opened your eyes, finding him looking down at his hands, his expression a mix of worry and vulnerability. Your heart ached at the sight, and you reached out to touch his arm gently.
“No, it’s not that at all,” you said softly, sitting up and turning to face him. “I love cuddling with you. I was just waiting for you, and I fell asleep. The pillow… it’s not a replacement for you. It’s just something to hold onto until you get home.”
He glanced up, his eyes searching yours for sincerity. “Really?”
“Really,” you assured him, taking his hand in yours. “You’re irreplaceable. I’ve missed you so much tonight.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, but the worry didn’t completely leave his eyes. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to turn to something else because I’m not enough.”
You squeezed his hand, shaking your head. “You’re more than enough. You make everything better just by being here.”
He nodded slowly, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. “I’m sorry for doubting. It’s just… seeing you like that, I worried I wasn’t doing enough.”
“You’re doing more than enough,” you said firmly, pulling him into an embrace. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you with a newfound determination. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” you replied, resting your head against his chest. “We’re in this together.”
You stayed like that for a moment, the silence between you comfortable and reassuring. His hand gently stroked your back, and you could feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxed into the embrace.
“Can we… can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked quietly, his voice hesitant once more.
“Of course,” you replied, leaning into him. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
You lay down together, his arms securely around you, and you nestled into his warmth. The pillow lay forgotten at the edge of the bed, its presence no longer needed. In his embrace, you felt safe, loved, and complete.
As the minutes passed, you felt sleep begin to claim you once more, but this time it was a peaceful, contented sleep. With him by your side, the world felt right again.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft and full of emotion. “Always.”
UKAI, KAGEYAMA, YAKU, EITA, SUGAWARA, ASAHI
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After a moment of quiet, I felt his gentle touch on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, I found him looking down at me with a soft, dreamy smile. His eyes were warm, filled with affection as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice tender. “You’re so beautiful.”
I blinked up at him, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “I was just waiting for you,” I murmured, feeling a bit self-conscious under his attentive gaze.
He shook his head slowly, his fingers continuing to brush my hair back with a loving, almost reverent touch. “I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t mean to make you wait. But seeing you like this… you’re just so cute, and peaceful.”
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, warmth spreading through me at his praise. “You’re making me blush, what happen today?” I said, smiling shyly but confused.
He chuckled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I can’t help it. You’re just so amazing. I love seeing you like this, even if it’s only with a pillow.”
“It’s not the same as having you here,” I said, reaching up to cup his face with my hand. “I missed you.”
His expression softened even further, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “I missed you too. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I don’t say it enough. Just seeing you here, like this… it makes me realize how lucky I am.”
He settled beside me, his arms wrapping around me with a warmth that instantly chased away the chill of the night. His touch was gentle and reassuring, a perfect contrast to the emptiness I had felt earlier. “You make everything better just by being you,” he whispered.
I snuggled into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day dissolve as his warmth surrounded me. “Thank you,” I said softly, resting my head against his chest. “That means a lot.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice filled with a deep, genuine affection. “I’m just glad I’m here now, and I want you to know how much I cherish you.”
We lay together in the quiet, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my back, the earlier worry replaced by a deep sense of peace. The pillow, now pushed aside, was a forgotten relic of the time spent waiting. In its place, I had the real thing—his warmth, his presence, his love.
“Promise me you’ll always tell me if you’re feeling lonely or need anything,” he said quietly, his breath warm against my hair.
“I promise,” I replied, feeling a wave of contentment wash over me. “And you promise to come home on time more often?”
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I promise. I’ll do my best.”
AKAASHI, OSAMU, SUGAWARA, USHIJIMA
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A soft chuckle broke the quiet, and you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You slowly opened your eyes to find him looking down at you with a playful grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners, clearly amused by what he saw.
“You look so adorable hugging that pillow!” he said, his voice light and joyful. “I might get a little jealous.”
You blinked, the sleepiness slowly lifting from your mind as you turned to face him. “Jealous? Of a pillow?”
“Absolutely,” he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It seems like that pillow’s got a pretty good gig going here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with his. “Well, it’s not exactly the same as you.”
He leaned closer, his smile widening. “I should hope not. I wouldn’t want to be replaced by a pillow, after all.”
He reached out and gently took the pillow from your grasp, tossing it aside with a playful flourish. As he settled beside you, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you close.
“You know,” he said, his voice softening as he rested his chin on the top of your head, “seeing you like this—so cute and cozy with the pillow—it just makes me want to squeeze you even more.”
You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth and security of his presence. “Well, I’m glad you’re home,” you murmured, your voice filled with contentment.
“Me too,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on moments like this.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of complete peace as you settled into his arms. The pillow lay forgotten at the edge of the bed, no longer needed now that you had him.
HINATA, BOKUTO, TENDOU, ATSUMU
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Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
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forzalando · 6 months ago
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read to me
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short and sweet lando + reading blurb for @coff33andb00ks 😊 i really, really hope you like it, viv! you know my thoughts on it already lol and i'm so sorry it's so short😭 please forgive me!!! summary: you finally have a day together after weeks away from home - lando suggests a day out, but all you want to do is read your new book. pairing: lando x fem!reader word count: 876 words tw: mild cursing
You loved traveling the world with Lando – discovering new favorites in every city, making memories across the globe. But sometimes, you wished that life could move a little slower.
Days like today are ones you cherished with all your heart. Both of you at home in your shared apartment, no plans or work or distractions. You woke up that morning before Lando, quietly slipping out of bed and tip-toeing to the kitchen to make a cup of whatever random tea bag you could find in the cupboard after a triple-header and no groceries.
The clock read 8:11am and you were positive that Lando wouldn’t be up for at least another hour given how exhausting the last few weeks have been. Rather than climb back in bed and potentially disturb him, you flopped onto the couch and weighed your options for entertainment.
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a book that a friend had recommended to you that you’d ordered and forgotten to pack before leaving for Spain. You settled deeper into the couch, threw a blanket across your lap, and opened the book to the first page, immediately hooked by just the first line.
Enraptured with the words before you, you didn’t realize the time or hear Lando repeatedly calling your name from the bedroom. He trudged out into your living room to investigate and saw you snuggled into the couch, oblivious to all of your surroundings.
“Babe?” He spoke quietly, from directly behind you.
You screamed in shock – the book flying from your hands and landing on the floor with a loud thud.
“Why did you sneak up on me like that?!” You yelled, launching yourself up to grab your book from the floor before any of the pages got crinkled.
“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes! How long have you been awake?”
“What time is it?”
“Around 11am– I can’t believe I slept that long.”
Your eyes drifted to your mug, tea long forgotten and no longer steaming.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled. “I’ve been reading for almost 3 hours, I didn’t even realize.” You placed the book on the coffee table next to your mug, attempting to stall your thoughts about the last full chapter you read and turn your attention to Lando as he hopped down on the couch next to you.
“We finally have a whole day to ourselves – what are you in the mood for?” Lando questioned, moving to throw the blanket over himself and lay in between your legs with his head in your lap – his self-proclaimed favorite spot. “We could grab lunch at our favorite place, maybe ice cream after a walk on the beach, go rope some friends into a game of padel, anything you want, love.”
You mulled the options given over in your head while Lando looked up at you expectantly. You tried to think of other options to suggest to convince him you wanted to go out, but in all honesty, nothing sounded more appealing than staying inside, snuggling with your boyfriend, and finishing that damned book.
Your fingers carded through his curls, pretending to think long and hard about what activity you’d tackle together. Lando, always attuned to your emotions, noticed your hesitation and the quick glance you gave the coffee table.
“What if we stayed home, actually?” He offered, watching your eyes light up and a small smile grace your cheeks.
“Are you sure? We’ve barely done anything the past three weeks, if you want to go out, I’ll get ready!”
The feeling of your hands massaging his hair, your midsection providing the perfect pillow, and the giddy look on your face at the thought of more reading made answering you the easiest thing in the world.
“I’m so sure. All that matters to me is that I’m spending the day with you, and besides, I could do with a few hours of relaxation.”
You leaned down and kissed him softly in thanks – a contended sigh escaping his mouth when you then turned to kiss his cheek before returning to sitting upright.
“Will you read to me?” Lando murmured. “You know how much I love the sound of your voice.”
You smiled and bent over gently to grab your book, turning back to page one because how could you subject Lando to starting in the middle?
Within ten minutes, soft snores echoed throughout the room and Lando had wound his arms around your waist, nuzzling his cheek against your stomach. You smiled down at your overgrown cat of a boyfriend, gently tossing your book back over to the table so you’d have free hands.
One in his soft curls and the other resting between his shoulder blades. Nothing meant more to you than these moments – being close to him, complete relaxation, seeking comfort in one another.
You were content to sit and stare down at him for as long as he remained asleep. The straight slope of his nose, long lashes brushing against his cheekbones, how his lips parted slightly. Despite all the places you’d been, monuments and cities you’d seen, there wasn’t a sight more lovely than Lando Norris.
Reading would simply have to wait when your eyes could instead gaze upon someone so beautiful.  
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lordprettyflackotara · 7 months ago
Text
hitchhiker || chapter one || the proxies
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tw: mentions of murder
<— prologue
Brian frowned as he picked up a can of soup, examining the label.
Grocery shopping is pointless.
He sighed as he put the can in his shopping cart. His gaze didn’t stray from the shelves, searching for his favorite. Tomato soup.
Not like we stay in one place long enough to really eat all of this shit.
Brian pushed his shopping cart forward, grumbling to himself. Since your meeting the proxies, they had done everything to avoid you. He cringed at the thought of Tim’s weakness. For the first time in years the roles were reversed, Brian the harsh one and Tim the blind softie. He reached forward to grab a can of chicken soup, his cart ramming into something.
His eyes flickered over to the hard stop, shock washing over him like a brutal wave. There you stood, a tiny red shopping basket accompanying your arm. In your hand sat a can of his beloved tomato soup. “Holy shit, Brian?” You asked. No no no no. What the actual fuck were you doing here? Brian awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. They had driven outside of the city to avoid you and here you stood.
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else-” Brian began. An overly optimistic Toby popped over his shoulder, dropping a container of oreos into the chart. His face lit up at the sight of you.
“Hi Y/n!”
Goddammit.
This reminded Brian why he thought Toby was a liability a smooth eighty percent of the time. The other twenty was Hoodie being impressed someone as slender as Toby could chop up a body so fast. You grinned as you walked around the shopping cart. “I didn’t realize you guys lived so far away from the city, I would’ve driven you closer,” You say. Brian admired your sober look, your face flushed with more color and your words no longer slurred.
“We work out here. Just grabbing some groceries on the way home,” Brian answered. Toby pranced around behind you, peaking over your shoulder. “T-t-tomato soup is H-, Brian’s favorit-te,” Toby said. Brian sighed, silently wishing Hoodie was fronting so you couldn’t see his face. You held out the can to him. “You can take it, it’s the last one,” You say, offering him a small smile. Brian hesitated, before remembering how much he enjoyed tomato soup. He reached his hand out, grabbing the can. His fingers brushed against your soft skin, which was radiating a comforting warmth.
You were like a bundle of touchable joy.
Oh fuck he was becoming soft.
“Thank you,” Brian mumbled, placing it in the cart. You eyed the cart suspiciously, noting the lack of substantial food. “I know you guys are middle aged men, but shouldn’t you have some real food in there?” You asked curiously. Not exactly like we have a lot of time for cooking. “We burn a lot of calories when we-” Toby started. Brian sent him a look so viscous he was surprised the kids head didn’t explode. “When we’re a-at work,” He finished. You raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances between the two. You were about to question the men’s relationship, the faint sound of static causing you to close your mouth.
It was overwhelming, the sensation making the left side of your temple throb. Brian was about to excuse them from the situation, a familiar voice interrupting his saving face. “Hey what’s taking so long?” Tim asked. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of you. “Hi Tim,” You greeted. It was interesting to you that not only had you ran into them again, you had managed to run into all three of them. Your drunken night had wiped away the awkward moments during your interaction.
Tim had thought you would’ve forgotten them entirely, but it was the rather opposite effect than he wanted. Instead of forgetting them, you only forgot the awkwardness and tenseness of the car ride. “Hi there,” Tim greeted. Brian could practically feel Tim’s flusteredness. Over the years they had slaughtered many women without a second thought, including attractive ones. And sure, the three of them hadn’t had intimacy in God knows how long. But Brian just couldn’t understand Tim’s infatuation with you. You were just a girl.
“So um, about dinner,” Tim continued. Brian refrained from visibly showing his distain. There was always the possibility you would’ve forgotten about the dinner proposal. What the fuck was Tim’s problem? It wasn’t as if Brian wanted them to all die practical virgins, it just wasn’t logical. Having any form of relationship would only result in a tragedy. Brian had racked his brain about it long ago, back when his freedom was first stripped away from him. What could he say? He was a horny motherfucker whose potential lovers would be slaughtered or tortured.
“Yeah?” You say. Brian could tell you were getting excited. You were practically bouncing on your heels. Man, maybe you’d make a good match for Toby. Brian shoved the the thought out of his head, looking away. “Why don’t we go grab some burgers or something tonight?” Tim suggested. Brian noticed the slight raise of your left eyebrow. Tim must’ve too, clearing this throat before following up with, “All of us. Our treat.”
You couldn’t have put on a bigger smile even if you had wanted to. “That sounds great. How about the corner burger joint on twenty eighth avenue? It’s near my apartment,” You suggested. Brian watched in horror as Tim grinned, giving you a confirmative nod.
“It’s a date.”
Brian couldn’t usher the three of them out of the store fast enough. Once comfortable in the car, Brian turned towards Tim. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? You practically gave her a headstone with her name on it,” He spat. Tim rolled his eyes, digging in his pocket for his faithful box of cigarettes. “One dinner is harmless, isn’t it kid?” He asked, glancing at Toby in the rearview mirror. Brian sighed as the younger man nodded excitedly. “M-most interaction we-ev’e had with another human in a longgg time,” He agreed, his neck twitching to the side again. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“Don’t weaponize Toby against my argument. We both know this is a terrible idea,” He said flatly. Tim started the car, driving past a fallen over shopping cart on the overgrown field. “If the Operator gets interested in her for even a split second-” Brian continued. Tim rolled his eyes, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Thats not going to happen, we’d never bring her to him. Besides, she’s just a girl. What’s the worst that could happen?” Tim answered. Out of the seven years they had been partners, Brian had never heard Tim be more nonchalant.
“O-one of us could g-get laid for once,” Toby added. Brian frowned as he reached into one of the grocery bags, pawing away to find the oreos. “Yeah we won’t bring her. But you know they will,” Brian pointed out. The sound of Toby crunching on oreos and the smell of Tim’s cigarette smell overwhelmed Brian’s senses. “They have no reason to be interested in her, nor do they have any reason to front tonight. We already took care of our mission for today. Boss gave us an easy target,” Tim reminded him. It was true, the latest assignment one that would begin easy.
In the trunk of their car sat a corpse of a middle aged man, one who was a detective. He had been investigating the proxies symbol and the various murders they had committed. He was putting all the pieces together, something that led him to a dangerous fate. It was the proxies responsibility to conceal the identities of all creeps. It was their literal job to clean up the messes the Operators mansion residents had made. It became more than personal though once someone began looking into their lives more than they should.
After all, Toby was still considered wanted. Tim and Brian were considered missing. Brian folded his arms, frowning as he looked out of the window.
“Oh yeah that reminds me, how the fuck are we going to discard of the body before dinner?”
\/
You held your phone to your ear, navigating through the whimsical rack of your closet. Your closest friend Nova was on the other end, helping you choose an ensemble for your dinner with the boys.
“Who are these guys again?”
Her voice was laced with concern. You held up a black dress to your figure, analyzing every last detail. “I met them on Halloween. Just a couple of hitchhikers,” You replied. You tossed the black dress aside, grabbing a white one instead. “I read cases of hitchhikers being cannibalistic murderers almost daily you know,” Nova replied. You had grown up with Nova, the two of you remaining close friends into adulthood. Despite the two of you having gone two separate waves career wise, you always made time for each other. She had chosen to be a detective. Despite her constant complaining, her passion was truly driven to seek justice for the victims of psychopaths.
You on the other hand, had made a more reckless choice. Your childhood dreams of being an actress had traveled over into adulthood. Leading in your long term employment at the Steak and Shake as a waitress. “Not all hitchhikers are crazy Nova. Besides, these guys seem nice. You’re the one who’s been telling me to get out there again,” You reminded her. After your nasty breakup with your ex boyfriend, you had become a bit of a reclusive. Halloween was the first time you had been out in months, Nova leaving early with her hookup of the night.
“Yeah but there’s three of them. They’re going to make you pick one,” She informed you. You rolled your eyes. You set your phone down on your dresser, putting it on speaker. “You know with how woke you are i’m surprised you don’t believe in being polygamy,” You said. You shoved your jeans down to your ankles, stepping out of them. You glanced up at a photo of you at graduation, Nova occupying your side. Her caramel skin was always polished and soft, her soft brown eyes always lit up in a smile during photographs. Her hair framed her face just right, giant curls practically bouncing in the picture.
“It’s not that I don’t, I just don’t see you being the polyamorous type,” Nova told you. You shoved off your shirt, tossing it aside carelessly. “If you’re so worried why don’t you go with me?” You suggested. You knew Nova would immediately decline, you just wondered what excuse she would come up with this time. The two of you ran with two very different crowds. Hers more professional, yours more wild. “You know I don’t have time for that right now. Winston just disappeared. Godwin couldn’t wait to throw this case in my lap,” She sighed. You began putting on the dress, struggling to put your arms through the complicated arm holes.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” You asked, trying to sound out together as you put your neck through the wrong hole. You awkwardly shifted on your feet, questioning why you bought this dreaded thing in the first place. “There’s a bunch of murders he thought were connected by some weird symbol. All of them have been gruesome. The chopped up bodies have all been dismembered the same way,” Nova informed you. You grinned as you finally managed to maneuver the dress, admiring yourself in the mirror. “Dude i’m going out to eat in like fifteen,” You reminded her.
“Yeah yeah my bad. I forget regular citizens don’t interact with this kind of stuff,” She said. You refrained from rolling your eyes, reminding yourself she wasn’t being egotistical. She just lived in her own world a majority of the time. You picked your phone up off of the dresser, taking her off of speaker before putting the phone up to your ear. “Well do you think Winston was onto something?” You suggested. Nova seemed to ponder it for a moment before responding. “You know I thought he ran away with his mistress but you’re onto something. He must’ve been on the right track,” She said.
“Most detectives don’t disappear overnight with their wallet still at home,” You reminded her. News headlines had been broadcasting Lewis Winston’s disappearance all morning. “Look at you becoming a little detective. You gotta get your degree so we can become partners,” Nova chuckled. You smiled, pulling on a pair of shoes. “Let me star in at least one blockbuster hit before you force me to change career paths,” You replied. You admired yourself in the mirror, ignoring your antsy nerves. How long had it truly been since you had been out on your own?
“You know i’ll be in the front row of the premiere. Maybe your hitchhiker boyfriends will be there too,” She laughed. Nova meant it as a harmless joke, but the idea alone made you incredibly flustered. “Yeah yeah very funny, i’m going to go have dinner with my hitchhiker boyfriends now,” You told her, guiding the conversation to end.
“Uh huh. Call me if your hitchhiker boyfriends are killers!”
You took your friend’s warning as a joke, but looking back, you should’ve taken her advice.
—> chapter two
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faesdreaming · 1 year ago
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Yandere Deity - Altar
tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality
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“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”
•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.
•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.
•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,
•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.
•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.
•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.
•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.
“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”
•You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.
•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.
“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”
•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.
•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.
•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.
•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.
•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.
“We only have until forever, love.”
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solar4seekstron · 2 months ago
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Tf1! Orian Pax one day seeing this normally quiet miner! Reader sneaking off. And gotten curious he decided to follow. Leading to a very hidden place that he had no clue existed yet, forgotten and high up, he finally climbed up and he was in awe. As the reader found a rare glimpse of the starry night of the surface... you cook with the rest of it my dear.
That’s really good!!! I shall do my best.
Orion Pax x Cybertronian!Reader Oneshot: Special Spot
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(I didn’t know if you meant actually on the surface or not but a few guys ago I went to the mountains with my family. Some people lived in really nice houses in the mountains so that gave me an idea! I hope you still enjoyed! Or just DM to yell at me if I got it wrong lol)
I decided this would be cute of Orion Pax finally gaining the strength to tell his crush his feelings and after finding their little special spot close to the surface. He’s so fixated, he forgets his nervousness and finally has a chance to get a spark mate.
TW/Tags: Wholesomeness and fluff, Orion is precious, reader is quiet, this is so sweet you might get sick lol
Orion pax has always noticed you. Although you were always quiet and didn’t speak much. Until a superior or- Elita spoke to you. You always seemed in a good mood and when he tried talking to you. Your words are always sweet and soft. Hell to the others it seems like you don’t even know the concept of sarcasm. Since everyone else does it with him but when he’s with you. He actually feels no attacked.
Over time. He grew a bit of a crush on you. Although not with much to say. And would never threaten him with beating him with a shovel. Your actions always spoke louder. He knew that tonight is going to be the night.
So once everyone else has fallen asleep. He makes his way towards you and once at your sleeping spot. He noticed when pointing his helm out of the corner, you were- AWAKE?!?! He watched you
You were walking away and made your way out of the mining quarters. He followed behind you to where you don’t notice him
———————————————————————————
After some time you continue to make your way to a certain spot. Right between two buildings that are higher up a sort of mountain. A steep hill the buildings were set on
Once you made it there you leaned your back against the wall. There was an amazing view once you looked up. An opened window to the stars of the surface. Although it wasn’t that big. It was just enough for you to see. You continued to stare up. Not noticing Orion snuck up next to you. He then leaned down a bit close to your audio sensors and whispered as gently as he can “what are we looking at?”
This startled you. You were quick to back up your arms in front of you to protect yourself. Orion had his hands up and looked at you.
“Woah. Easy. I ain’t here to hurt ya or anything.” You just looked at him. Looking back at the ground and back at him a few times. He realized you were worried and thought fast.
“Hey,..I won’t snitch if that’s what you’re worried about…I have my secrets too around this city..” he chuckled. You stayed still for a moment looking at him. But then you’d slowly give him that usually warm smile and looked back up at the stars. Orion looked up too. Took him a moment but he was able to finally see them. He was amazed. So enchanted he was actually quiet for a moment.
You let out a sigh as you close your eyes “one day I’m going to fly under those stars. Only closer to them then…” Orion glanced at you and gently smiles. His optics soft
You two stand there looking up for a few more Nano Kliks until Orion finally spoke. His fight gently touching yours.
“So um….you wanna…goooo”
“Yeah Orion. I’ll let you court me”
Orion turned to the opposite side of you raising his arm and first as he closed his optics and whispered “yes!!!!”
You chuckled your helmet resting on his shoulders as you closed your optics. Your hand holding his until they interlocked. Orion continued to look at the stars. He was so happy.
Hope y’all enjoyed!
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silent-stories · 6 months ago
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𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader
Tw: fluff, sweet reunion
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The airport was dimly lit, the departure board flickering as if it couldn’t quite decide which flights were leaving and which were delayed. Noah’s flight had been delayed for hours due to a mechanical issue, and the clock was ticking past 3am. But you didn’t mind. You stood at Gate 7, your heart racing with anticipation.
You couldn't leave with your boyfriend for this tour due to some commitments that you couldn't postpone and you missed him more and more every day. Not being woken up by a few kisses gently pressed against your lips and forehead, making just a cup of coffee in the morning, not hearing the sound of his laughter echoing through the walls of your house, not being able to play with his tattooed fingers while watching a movie and falling asleep against his chest, not cooking together with music in the background making a total mess in the kitchen had been like torture.
These were things that a video call couldn't replace.
Finally, the intercom crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. Flight 237 from Madrid is now arriving at Gate 7.”
Your breath caught as the sliding doors opened. There he was—Noah, obviously tired but still smiling at you, his brown eyes locking onto yours almost immediately.
A few strands of messy hair were sticking out of the hood of the dark sweatshirt he was wearing. You missed being able to run your fingers through his brown locks during his absence.
You dropped your bag on the floor and ran toward him, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck, almost causing him to lose his balance due to the sudden collision.
You knew someone would recognize Noah or you and take pictures without you seeing but you didn't even remotely care at that moment. They could post them on any social and show everyone how much you loved each other.
A low laugh left his lips as his arms wrapped around you, your head pressed against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Noah’s embrace was tight, as if he never wanted to let you go. “I missed you,” he whispered into your hair.
You looked up at him, “I missed you too,” you said, before taking his face in your hands and pushing him down to make your lips meet in a short but sweet kiss, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. “You have no idea.”
"It's really late. You shouldn't have waited for me here all these hours, love." He whispered.
"I'll always wait for you."
You stood there, lost in each other, oblivious to the other passengers bustling around you. The airport was a blur of noise and movement, but in this moment, it was just Noah and you.
“Come on,” Noah said, taking your hand in his, letting his fingers intertwine with yours like they were made to be that way. “Let’s get out of here.”
You walked through the sliding doors, the cool night air hitting your faces. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and Noah pulled you against him for a second time, with his arm around your shoulders, keeping you as close to him as possible.
"Let's go home." He gently smiled at you.
And so you left the airport behind, the delay forgotten, the tiredness irrelevant. You had each other, and that was all that mattered. As you drove away, Noah’s hand on your thigh, you knew that this reunion was worth every second of waiting.
You watched as the lights from the lit signs and street lamps reflected on his features. You placed your hand on his. Maybe you were going home or maybe you already were.
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zeezelweazel · 1 year ago
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Could you write a smut story where r makes Leah squirt for the first time?
I think you are the only one that will do it justice. Just Leah being confused as to why she's feeling it so intensely and after being slightly embarrassed while r is obsessed w having made her squirt.
If not that's completely fine I just love the way you write. <333
Leah Williamson| Achievement|
______________________________________
I'm so honoured omg I hope I did this justice. This isn't really proof read so I hope there aren't any mistakes (special thanks to the anon that pointed out a mistake)
(It's hinted that reader plays for Man City but that doesn't affect the story whatsoever)
TW: strap on sex, oral, squirting (duh), edging, vibrators
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Leah has been tormented the whole day.
It started in the morning when you woke up with the blonde still naked next to you, that you decided to wake her up by running your fingers through her slick folds. Leah was awake in an instant, her groggy voice already begging for you. You didn't plan to leave her hanging, you really didn't, but as soon as you started moving your fingers your phone rung and a very angry Alex Greenwood reminded you that training started 30 minutes ago.
Leah was left needy and very grumpy, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting like a child, only huffing in response after you kissed her goodbye. Training was alright, even if your skipper made you do three extra laps, but by the time you were home you were exhausted. Leah was still as horny as ever but she waited for you to come home and take care of her.
The moment you opened the door she was on you, placing messy kisses on your neck and jaw but she only received an apologetic smile as you told her that you'll head to bed after a quick shower. Leah knew better, so she didn't argue but you could tell she was frustrated.
When you hopped in the shower Leah sneaked into your special drawer and picked out a bullet vibrator that you guys have yet to use. Then she proped herself up on the bed and took her shorts and underwear off. She bit her lip when the lacy fabric stuck to her wet folds. She fumbled with the vibrator trying to find the button that turns it on. The moment the toy sparked to life Leah immediately put it over her throbbing clit and threw her head back with a loud moan.
Her moans were bouncing off the walls and unknowingly to your lover, you could very well hear the commotion from where you were standing in the hallway, with your hair dripping and your body covered in a towel. You entered the bedroom with a smirk and Leah looked at you, shocked eyes pooling with pleasure begging you to help her. Her hand stilled in between her parted legs, your eyes immediately being drawn to the wetness smeared on the inside of her thighs. Her pussy was greedily milking all the vibrations from the toy and you had to really fight with your urges not to pounce on her. You completely ignore Leah and all of her whines as you get ready for bed. Before you slip under the covers, right next to Leah, you manage to get a glimpse of the vibrator she's using. Your poor Leah, she's completely forgotten that the toy she's using can be controlled with an app that you have on your phone.
You let Leah work herself up, relishing in the way she was moaning your name, rolling on her side to be as close to you as possible. Then when you noticed how her voice became shaky and strained you opend the app and turned off the vibrator.
"Wha- no! What the fuck! How did it-"
Leah turned on her stomach screaming in frustration with her head buried in the pillow. She stayed there panting, thighs still twitching and shaking when you finally decided to give in. You chucked as you placed your phone on the bedside table and moved to run your fingers through Leah's blonde hair, cooing softly when she looked up at you with teary eyes.
"You want my help baby?"
Leah nodded her head quickly, laying on her back again and spreading her legs wide so you can move in between.
"Please- I need you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything!" Leah croaked out desperately. Your eyes run down her body and you contemplated dragging this out but in the end you couldn't fight the lust. You grabbed her thighs and immediately pushed your tongue against her dripping cunt. Leah moaned, high and loud as you continued moving your tongue. The taste of her on your tongue and the softness of her milky thighs on your hands was driving you crazy. You moaned against her core and the vibrations from your voice send a spark up her spine, her back arching off the bed.
"Trust me baby, I'll make you feel good."
"God, please! I'm close, don't stop!" Her hands had a tight grip on your hair as you kept building up her pleasure. Right before Leah was about to come an idea sparked on your head. Abruptly you pulled away from her throbbing heat. Leah sobbed in desperation when you backed off, her thighs were clenching as she brought down one of her own hands to finish the job. You grabbed her wrist to stop her, quietly shushing her when she fought your grip.
She reluctantly let you go and watched your every move as you went to grab the biggest strap you owned. Leah gulped and positioned herself comfortably on the pillows while waiting for you to come back to the bed. You didn't bother climbing up the bed, instead you reached for Leah's ankles and without a warning you dragged her down so her hips were on the bed while her legs were dangling on the edge of the bed.
Leah gasped when you grabbed her legs and pushed them all the way back so that her knees were almost by her ears. She blushed at how wet and exposed she felt, whining pathetically when she saw your eyes locked on her pussy. You lined up with her entrance and started pounding into her, setting up a brutal pace. The strap was hitting all the good spots and filling her up so good and Leah's hands fumbled with the bed sheets, desperate to hold on to something while she moaned and panted. Her voice was getting sore and her legs started to shake and you knew she was close. You brought your hand down to her clit and rubbed the sensitive bud. Leah almost screamed in pleasure as she came, transparent liquid gushing out and drenching the bed and the strap while her thighs shook. Leah's eyes shot open as she moved up on her elbows, watching with wide eyes while more of the liquid dripped out of her. Your hips were stilled in shock and Leah was flsuhed red in embarrassment. It almost felt like she just wet the bed.
"Fuck I... I'm sorry, I don't-"
Leah was interrupted when you pulled her in for a bruising kiss. Leah whined in your mouth when you rolled your hips, feeling your smirk before you pulled back. You run your hands up and down her sides, looking at her with an expression of admiration and bewilderment.
"Damn baby, I didn't know you could squirt."
Leah laughed nervously, still a little embarrassed from the prior events.
"Well neither did I."
You hummed and continued stroking her sides before grinning and pushing her down on the bed again. You leaned down and kissed the spot just below her ear before whispering.
"Let's see if I can make you do it again."
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cutielights · 1 year ago
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Hello! I was wondering if you could maybe do a reader comfort for the readers family forgetting their birthday/just a bad birthday in general? Comfort from the boys. Either romantic or platonic, I don't care much. Thank you!
Yup! My birthday was a while ago (early May) but none of my friends showed up to the party. So I have the FUEL to write this with. I’m very sorry if this has happened to anybody else. I will shower you all in love <33
Tw: forgotten birthdays (but you knew that didn’t you?)
Rise boys x Forgotten Birthday s/o
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Leo
He showed up at your window with pizza
Very discreetly /s asked for the name’s, identity’s, and locations of all your oppressors I mean people that upset you
He just wants to talk
“Off topic but how do you think they’d react to a green teenager with an ōdachi?”
“Uhhhh??”
“No reason.”
“UHHH?!”
Gives you his gift
Movie night!
Yes it’s Jupiter Jim stop acting so shocked
Raph
Showed up at your window the moment you called
Hug time
No seriously
It’s HUG time
Almost broke your back
Gives you his gift that he’s had since last month
Because HE loves you
Goes out of his way to do nice things for you for like the next month
He did that anyway
But now he has a MISSION to make you feel okay
Donnie
This is the day you found out that the lab has a party mode
Gives you his gift the moment you walk in the door
Sits there awaiting positive feedback
Why yes it IS of his own design thank you so much for noticing!
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N being clingy
Neither of them like you being upset :[
Looking over his shoulder to see him marking in a birthday celebration for next year on his phone
It was labelled “S/O BIRTHDAY. IMPORTANT.”
Him letting you control the party mode playlist
And ofc, eating pizza! outside the lab don’t get his tech greasy for the love of god
Mikey
WHAT
LET ME AT EM
ITS CIRCLED 5 TIMES ON HIS CALENDAR
ACTIVATE DR FESTIVE!
OPERATION HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Brings you an entire birthday cake
Brings you to an arcade or wherever else you’d perhaps want to go
Hidden city Cotten Candy
You were not aware that bug flavoured Cotten Candy was a thing
You guys stay out till midnight, just having fun
I just got the notification for 100 reblogs- THANKS GUYS <3333
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mo0nfairy · 2 years ago
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Ughhhh I neeeeeed part 3 of our guard puppy leon😭😭😭
That was so so good.
Like are you an angel??? How can you write so beautifully??
part 1. part 2. part 4.
tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, guns, explosions, being knocked out, parasites, some obsessive!ashley too.
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⸺ eeeek !! ur too sweet! i've been having lots and lots of thoughts about this batshit-insane puppy dog. so, ask and you shall receive ~~
through trial and error (and leon's incessant suggestions to just go home together. you disagree with his suggestion and he can never say no to you, after all), you find ashley hiding in the church. and the immediate liking she takes to you is bridging on the cusp of creepy. what's even creepier is your guard-dog's reaction to such. you appreciate the sweetness the two have for you and how it helps keep you afloat in this absolute hellhole, but something still stalks in the back of your head...
you can't trust leon. you have no idea why, but with every ledge he helps you over or with every drop he catches you from, there is that looming shadow that lurks within you. it's a sense of dread that hangs heavy in your stomach, almost like hanging over the hill of a rollercoaster. there's alarms that blare whenever he gets too close, all that seem to be warning you to get as far away from this man as you can. and for why, you cannot tell. he is kind-hearted, brave, and has saved you from practically every abomination known on planet earth. so, why don't you trust him?
maybe it's the look in his eye. how his gaze for you is practically seeping with sunshine, but whenever he looks at the squeaky mouse on your hip, there's an uncanny shift towards something much darker. (ashley breathes within a mile radius of you and leon literally becomes the gif ^^). his perceptible distaste towards her goes further than his expressive eyes, unfortunately. it's "accidentally" dropping her when she jumps from the ledge, stifling a laugh at her pain only to immediately go red with rage when you help her from the ground. "falling over" and nearly knocking ashley head-first off a ledge; tending to a splinter you got while she tries to avoid being kidnapped by literally 73 los ganados.
ashley's dislike towards the man her father sent to retrieve her is perceptible, too. and her liking to you is even more evident. she'll cower in your embrace when leon shoots his gun a little too close to her ear, smirking at him over your shoulder when she sees how enraged it makes him. she'll interlock your fingers with hers due to being “afraid,” outright refusing to let go from thereon out; she'll ramble about her awesome life as the president's daughter, how astonishing she finds you to be, and how many riches she has (and how she can provide for you *cough, cough*). it's all so bewildering — you have all somehow managed to survive countless near-death experiences and yet, both of them are nothing but daisies and rainbows when your attention is on them.
most importantly, it is so fucking overwhelming. you wonder if their suffocating clinginess is the worst thing you'll actually face in this hellhole.
you're so caught up in avoiding the affections of these two and surviving in the process, you almost completely forget about your memory loss. you have history with this man, whomever he may be. and during trips to the merchant and the shooting range, you think he'll enlighten you on these forgotten pieces while you take a second to breathe. but, he never does. he either glares daggers into the girl at your hip or thoroughly checks your body for wounds you fruitlessly assure him don't exist. so, you guess you only have yourself and your goldfish-like memory to rely on.
all you can remember is his sweet soul, baby-face, and, rather, unconventional displays of affection. and you assume that this is how far the iceberg goes. just you and this lovesick boy in raccoon city. together. but oh, how wrong you were.
the three of you later find yourselves in the amber storeroom. you trace your fingers upon the crevices of the large hunk of amber in front of you, watching in disgust as the parasites within squirm like dying cockroaches. the topic of escaping this nightmare soon arose. you want to make it to luis' laboratory for the purpose of curing ashley of her infection, despite having to separate for a short period of time to retrieve the proper materials. leon just wants to get himself and you out of here, to where you'll live happily ever after in each other's arms.
"it's not too to turn back, you know. if we make it to the lab, we can save ashley, leon. we'll only have to seperate for a second, it's no biggie!" your suggestion falls on deaf ears, much to your dismay.
"not a chance. you're stuck with me to the end." you feel your heart drop at leon's response. the saying unlocks something within you, something you knew you never wanted to come out. it hits you like a train; dread permeates your entire being. you're stuck with me to the end.
an unfamiliar voice then fills the room. before you even have a picosecond to process the additional presence and leon's previous statement, you feel his hand on your arm, to where you're then swung behind him. you see the saddler from your stance over leon's shoulder, giving his whole villain monologue. you managed to derive only one piece on information from the cloaked creature before you: we are all fucked.
black veins travel up the neck of the blonde in front of you. he then falls to his knees, gun clattering onto the floor. ink-black strings spread upon ashley's face, the white of her eyes morphing into a sinister red. the color stiffly frames the green hue of her irises. sobs rack through her body; you hear a whimper of your name escape her mouth. an unseen force causes her to bend down and grasp hold of the gun, the atmosphere overwhelmingly intense. and as if she were a doll, the force pushes each foot in front of the other. closer to you.
you take a cautious step away from her, only to feel your back hit a surface. you turn to meet the chest of someone adorned head-to-toe in white cloth, ragged ropes tied around their waist and neck. their purple, ghastly hand the clutches onto your wrist like a lifeline, the pain causing you to hiss in response. you try and pull away with all of your might, but their inhuman abilities overpower your own. before your bones can crack beneath the sheer force of their strength, a gunshot permeates. your ears ring, thus using your eyes to identify the sudden intrusion of sound. the figure before you is now adorned in blood as it cascades down their once-white cloak. ashley persevered and fought through the infection seeping through her veins to save your life, but you’re too busy staring at the scene before you to realize.
"no... please! please, don't make me!" the force of the saddler returns, however. and the devastated voice of ashley only comes out in a quiet hum, with your hearing still disoriented from the gunshot.
this leaves you here, where you never thought you'd be. while you're gaze is locked on the body ashley brutalized, you're taken by surprise when you feel your body whipped around completely. her arm snakes around your neck as if you were prey, the other pressing the cold surface of the gun's barrel to your temple. you thrash and fight, but your efforts are merely pathetic in comparison to her newly supernatural power.
"we don't need another foolish lamb in our way. sweet child, do not resist!" his voice feels like a chill traveling up your spine. faint and ghostly, but all-too terrifying in the same breath.
you can feel ashley cry in your ear, begging the monster in front of you to let you both go. closing your eyes, you pray to whatever almighty being truly exists that you'll soon wake up back in your bed. then, you'll enjoy your breakfast and pantomime to your cat about the insane dream you just had. but, ashley's hyperventilated breaths still fan against your face and her grasp on you is still air-tight. as much as you wish it wasn't, this is your reality. and, inevitably, you will most likely die in the embrace of the girl you fought tooth-and-nail to save.
leon still clenches his body in agony; his gaze remaining locked to the ground beneath him. his attempts to fight against the pain with every sliver of strength in his body were futile. but, in a flare of clarity, leon is fortunately able to overcome the immense pain momentarily. his blue eyes, wide as dinner plates, frantically search around for you. and the scene he finds behind him causes his heart to sink into oblivion.
"no!" the sheer anguish in his cry is enough to grasp the attention of every presence in the room. 6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days to be with you. and as i stated before, like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.
leon scrambles to his feet. but, before he can bring you into his tenacious embrace, kill everything that moves, and vow to never ever let anything like this happen to you ever again, that same force stops him within his stance. his hands halt inches from your face, so, so close, as he desperately reaches out to you. leon fights and resists, despite the agony swimming in his black-colored veins from doing such. he must get to you, no matter how much pain and suffering he must endure.
you are everything he could ever need; you are the very definition of his existence. his sobs rival those of someone overcome with grief and he is terrified of the fact that it may be him momentarily. so close to happiness, but now all alone. once again and forevermore. you can only watch in trepidation as he shakes with pure terror, muffled cries of "take me instead" and "please, anyone but them!" escaping through clenched teeth.
with the faint click of ashley's dainty finger, she pulls on the trigger. there is nothing.
silence hits the room like a tsunami. you're alive, but you don't dare let yourself hope. waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never falls. ashley's grip on you relaxes, to where you rip her arms off of you and practically throw yourself across the room. anywhere far from the insanity caused by this horrid infection. the two people you survived hell with are still under the trance, however. miserable cries protruding through the quiet; bodies shivering like someone who has been thrown into a winter lake. their eyes peer to their side, desperate to move their heads to look at you and ensure your safety.
you're still attempting to process what had just occured when you suddenly hear rumbling echoing in the distance. something soars through the sky, landing right at the feet of the saddler and his minions. chaos pervades as an explosion waves through the room, causing every piece of matter to ascend into the air, including yourself. you’re flung into the wind, where you then land harshly against the unforgiving ground. you cough into your arm in an attempt to rid your body of the smoke satiating your lungs.
"sorry, bad traffic! one combat chopper, compliments of hunnigan!" you hear the eccentric voice, the mention of hunnigan, the whirring of a helicopter and finally smile to yourself for the first time in what feels like years. help! it’s finally here!
a substance trickles down your forehead and down the expanse of your face. you bring your fingers to your skin, only to find the digits to be adorned with warm blood. following the trace, you soon realize during the pandemonium of the eruption, something had hit you square in the skull. fuck.
you hear a shout of your name before everything goes dark.
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ghostsforghosts · 2 months ago
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NOTE: This Reader is male!!
TW/CW: Death (minor death, but death nonetheless)
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Imagining your city being overtaken by enemy soldiers and you were running away from a group of soldiers who are eyeing you because you're a fit man and thus a threat to them. It doesn't matter that you're not someone who likes to be violent, you were still considered a threat to them.
And so here you were, your lungs pumping over time to compensate for how fast you are running. Your eyes were scanning the nearby areas for any place to hide, somewhere where you can be safe.
That's when you saw it: the very old temple of a god you can't remember the name of because your people stopped worshipping him a long time ago.
Before the siege, your people were debating tearing down the temple and building a new store because the temple stuck out like a sore thumb among the more modern buildings. It was still intact, even after years of being neglected, it kept standing tall and it seemed intimidating to anyone glancing at it. That's part of why people wanted it to be torn down, because it was not helping getting merchants and traders to come to your city, since they thought it meant your people were still stuck in the past and didn't have anything of value to trade.
But perhaps your pursuers are men of honor, or at least somewhat men of honor. Maybe the temple would make them pause, make them wary to step inside something that was once a sanctuary.
So, you didn't hesitate to turn slightly, running up the steps that used to be white but were now brown from years of oxidation. You threw open the doors that surprisingly seemed more intact than they should be, running inside the temple.
The temple used to be gorgeous, you thought as you looked around, having enough time to catch your breath.
Inside the temple was a large altar in the middle, unused and dusty but still decorated with a cloth that had beautiful designs of lightning bolts along the white cloth. There were breathtaking statutes, yellowed over the years but still held the beauty of the god they were sculpted after. There was a deep temple tank to the left, empty but had once been filled with water that came from a spout sculpted as the mouth of a statute of a satyr.
Your awe of the temple was interrupted by hearing the heavy boots of the soldiers who had been chasing after you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked around for where you could hide before they could see you.
Unfortunately, you were too slow and heard the soldiers laugh as they found you in the temple. You were frozen, your eyes stuck on the soldiers who were approaching the temple.
"Look, the boy thinks he can hide in a temple of a forgotten god," the leader of the soldiers said, demeaning you despite both of you being the same age. "Hoping the old god will save you? If he's even still alive, that is."
The soldiers were laughing at your predicament, their swords unsheathed as they continued to advance. This—your livelihood—was just a game to them.
You were just about to shift into a defensive stance, preparing to have to defend yourself, when you felt the ghost of a hand resting on the back of your neck. The surprisingly warm touch made you still, the temple suddenly filling with immense power you had no clue where it came from.
The soldiers were oblivious to the shift in the air, the leader of the soldier about to step onto the first step of the temple before he and his group got blown back by a gush of wind that had flown past you, just barely making you stumble. The soldiers, however, had been thrown backwards until they were at a considerable distance away from the temple.
The leader snarled in displeasure, clearly thinking you had been the one to show that display of power. "Fucking witch, this city is full of witches," he growled, now pissed.
He didn't take the warning that had was clearly the gust of wind, instead, he stalked towards the temple again. "I'll kill you, boy. And I'll kill you slowly too."
He was advancing towards the temple again when a roar of thunder shook the earth.
It was a warning, you thought, before you saw the leader get struck and charred with lightning when he didn't heed the warning thunder.
You jumped back in surprise, the leader having not been able to even scream in pain before dropping dead to the ground. Another roar of thunder shook the earth and the other soldiers took the warning, cursing before scrambling to run away.
"Thank you," you said, not knowing where to look, so you ended up looking up at a statute of the god.
A rumble of approval at your gratitude gently shook the temple as the god finally spoke up. "You're welcome. It was my honor to help a citizen of this city again," he replied, his voice gruff. "It has been so many decades since I've had someone in my temple, even if it's for sanctuary."
Your attention got taken away by hearing sounds of your people successfully running the rest of the soldiers out of the city and taking back the city. Your heart swelled at that, happy the danger was over.
You turned back to the statute and asked, "What kind of god are you? And what's your name?"
"I'm the God of the Sky. I used to be a king of my pantheon, but my family has all faded," the god said, his voice becoming sad at the end of his sentence. He then cleared his voice to continue. "As for my name, well, your people have taken to such easier names that my true name would be too difficult for you to pronounce."
"Still, I need something to call you, my lord." You moved towards the altar, putting your hands into your pocket.
"John. Call me John. I believe that name is common in your region."
You hummed in response to that, pulling out a wooden carving of a handsome angel that you had done a while ago. "I don't have much to give you right now, but I hope this offering of a wood carving will be enough for now, Lord John." You placed the carving on the altar, feeling the pulse of power from the offering being added to the overall power in the temple.
"A little goes along way," John said, feeling very pleased at the offering. "Thank you."
"{Name}!"
Your sister calling out to you, her footsteps running through the streets of the ravaged city, brought you back to the reality of the situation. You couldn't stay, your family would worry and they needed your help to rebuild whatever was damaged in the siege.
"I'll be back soon, maybe tomorrow if everything goes well," you said, turning to leave. "I won't forget you, Lord John. I promise."
You ran down the steps, rushing to where your sister was. There had been determination in your last words to the god, like you were intent on keeping your promise and not forgetting a god that had already been forgotten.
"Run home, {Name}," John murmured, mostly to himself. "I have a feeling you're a man of his word and will be back. I look forward to it."
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Banners made by @/cafekitsune and separator made by @/dollywons
Finally got to writing God!Price, after a long time of saying I'd get to him. This is just the start of a new series!
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voxisdaddy · 7 months ago
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after hours of punishing vox and edging him and stuff he’s so deep in subspace he just begs you to praise him 😕😕 i just love the idea of his bratty walls coming down and just wanting the readers approval, like being all weepy about it!! he puts up with so much shit (and gives out the same energy) for so long all day that he just wants his mommy to be nice to him 😔 mmfph subby vox just 😍😍
Tender
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THANK YOU ANON I just wanna care for this lil needy brat so badly I swear <3 also I like how my name is VoxisDaddy and yet every time I write him in a sexual context, he's a subby bottom and occasional pervert lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Vox x Reader
Type: Headcanons + kinda rambly | Fluff
C/TW: Suggestive content, marking this 18+ because of it, needy Vox, tears, mommy kink, fluffy aftercare, sub!Vox x Dom!Reader, reader implied as fem im sorry :c
In which after hours of endless (pleasurable) torture, all Vox wants is his mommy's sweetest affections <3
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Whatever the fuck it is he did to deserve this overwhelming pleasure he's already long forgotten about. Poor baby's too fucked dumb :c
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once you finally detached yourself from him, his legs fall limp against the bed, quivering. You could poke or accidentally graze his thigh and his legs would twitch rather suddenly. "Mommy" falling from his lips in short mumbles
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He would so panic when you get up to leave, reaching a clawed hand out to grasp at your arm desperately. He'd softly tug on your arm as he babbles almost incoherently
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You swear you can hear something about "mommy" in there somewhere—which is new. He normally used that term during or leading up to it, never after
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Though perhaps by now you already understand what he wants since this is likely not your first rodeo like this. Gently you'd pry his hand off of you and he wouldn't put up much of a fight sine he doesn't wanna accidentally scratch you. He'd look up at you pleadingly though; don't leave him :c
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You'd have to reassure him and kiss his knuckles softly. Saying something like—"I'm just gonna go get something to clean you up baby, I'll be right back." No longer than a few moments do you come back with a damp rag and carefully run it over his quivering thighs and the surrounding area. He lets you do this, his gaze never leaving you
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once he's all cleaned up and not feeling so sticky anymore this man will absolutely not let you leave
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He's actually so fucking clingy, muttering into your skin about how good you made him feel and if he did a good job—asking if he's forgiven for being such a brat
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe you'd contemplate this just to be a bit mean cuz he's really been unnecessarily rude lately, today being the final straw, but looking at him all clingy, teary eyed, and desperate for your love you can only sigh; "You did so good for me baby. So much self control."
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The lights in the city didn't shut off too early this time :D
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like in his fucked dumb foggy brain, he'd silently beg to suck on your tit. Being the good boy he is, he waits for permission and goes for it—whimpers softly at your quiet praises
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ngl I kinda see the clinging seeping over to the next day
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like you'd be sitting on the couch sipping on your morning drink and Vox would walk over in more comfortable clothing. You'd raise a brow—he usually heads to work as soon as possible, what the hell is he still doing here? He'd wave you off, giving some kind of excuse then sitting on the floor in between your legs, resting against you as you watch tv. his arms resting on your thighs as he sits back and relaxes his sore af body
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Either takes the rest of the day off and follows you around like a lost puppy or practically clings to you as he sits in his office chair working-or maybe on your lap while you hug him from behind
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This last one is just a personal funny thing I'm picturing and it's Vox being in a noticeably good mood that day and just giving his assistant a random ass pay bonus. Side eyeing you to see if you noticed his generosity lmao
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IM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE A WEEK AND A HALF TO COME OUT ANON SVAOVBNO
Sometimes my posts get shadowbanned, I'd really appreciate it if you not only liked but also reblogged <3 no pressure, just a thought!!
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lovebugism · 1 year ago
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for fictober could I request from the 50 autumnal prompts ‘when he wears THAT flannel’ with Eddie please?
we were so robbed of Eddie all boyfriend in soft cosy clothes. R wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of him and he’d love it come autumn when it’s all he wears.
ugh imagine him in like thick baggy sweaters and when he reaches up it just exposes a bit of tummy 😍 I’m like a Victorian seeing ankles
love you xoxo
hi angel! idk how i managed to make this angsty, but alas! hope you like it :D
summary: you and eddie try to get used to life post-vecna but it's not nearly as easy as you thought it'd be (post st4, established relationship, wee bit of angst tw for mentions of death and scars, 1.2k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie’s pretty much recovered by mid-fall.
Not totally. But mostly.
You think getting away from Hawkins helped the most — moving out of the city and settling further in the green. Even though everyone back home eventually understood that Eddie wasn’t the psycho-killing freak they made him out to be, things had changed far too much to ever go back to normal again.
Something’s break beyond repair. Something’s just can’t be fixed.
Not your Eddie, though. Eddie’s perfect. Damn near it, anyway, considering the circumstances.
He’s still got the nightmares and the phantom pains — even though he tells you he doesn’t. But he’s graduated now and helping Wayne at the car shop whenever he can. He’s taking the newfound normalcy in stride, spending early autumn with you and making you hot chocolate like nothing ever happened.
“You like marshmallows in your cocoa, right?” he calls from the kitchen, though he sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself.
You hear him, but you forget to answer. Your brain all but short circuits at how pretty he looks. 
You eye him from the couch while he bustles in the kitchen, and gutwrenching existentialism knocks the wind from your lungs like a fist to the stomach. 
You weren’t supposed to have Eddie again. You weren’t supposed to share a home like you always dreamed about, and he wasn’t supposed to make you hot cocoa or keep you warm when autumn got too bitter. 
A season or more ago, you were saying your goodbyes while he bled out in an alternate dimension. 
You haven’t yet forgotten how pale his skin had gotten or how glassy his chocolate eyes grew as the life spilled from the weeping bites on his stomach. The feeling of his blood, slimy on your hands and drenching your clothes, hasn’t yet left you. The red-hot blood in the unnatural navy blue cold still lives in your head.
But it’s only there. In your head.
And Eddie’s right in front of you — wild hair, baggy pajama pants, and all. You can smell the musk of his cologne and the floral of his shampoo. He’s real enough to touch. 
He’s real.
The realization hits you every day, all the time. It wells from your chest up into your throat and makes you feel like crying. Most people don’t get to say goodbye to their soulmate and eat Wednesday morning breakfast with them months later. 
You’ve got so much gratitude inside you, bursting like golden rays of sunshine, that you don’t know what to do with it all.
“Babe?” he calls again when you don’t answer. “Did you hear me?”
He pokes his head in the doorway, and your eyes go wide. “Huh? What?” you stammer, shaking your head to jerk yourself out of your stupor.
Eddie laughs, high and boyish. It sounds like heaven, and it pierces your heart. Six months ago, you never thought you’d hear it again. “I asked if you wanted marshmallows, weirdo.”
You nod rapidly and ramble an answer. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”
“O-kay,” Eddie lilts, though his voice wavers with confusion. His grin widens and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask why you’re acting so suddenly strange. 
You wonder if he’s used to it by now. You wonder if he knows when you go quiet that you’re remembering that a part of you nearly died.
He returns to the kitchen and reaches for the upper cupboard. A sliver of his milky white tummy peeks from beneath his flannel. You can see the bites from here. They’re scarred over now, dark red and light pink and thunder-strike purple. It almost jars you how healed they look. The wounds are still fresh and weeping whenever you close your eyes.
Eddie comes in from the living room, balancing two mugs in his hands rather carefully because he’s filled them to the brim. He’s got his usual ceramic Campbell’s Tomato Soup cup in one hand and your sleeping Snoopy in the other. The innate domesticity makes your stomach whirl.
“You okay?” the boy wonders with pinched brows when he hands you your cocoa.
You nod with glittering eyes, mustering a faint smile up at him. The mug warms your chilled, trembling hands. 
“Mm-hmm… Why?” you question, though you’re more than aware of why. 
Eddie’s got a knack for knowing how you’re feeling before you’ve even hinted at it. You think he might’ve got mind-reading powers when you were in the Upside Down.
“I don’t know. You just looked a little… far away, I guess.”
“Just missed you,” you confess with a bright, innocent gaze.
Eddie snorts as he rounds the couch to sit next to you. “While I was in the kitchen ten feet away?”
“Yeah. ’S way too far.”
“Well, remind me to carry you with me wherever I go, then.”
You know he’s joking, but you beam anyway. You don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t. You don’t want him to go where you can’t follow. 
Eddie takes a sip and smiles at your smiling. His grin is crooked and rosy and lined with whipped cream. He leans in to kiss you with it. 
You pull back from him, just far enough to wipe the melted sugar off with the pad of your thumb. You give him a smacking peck a second later.
With a kissed grin, the boy leans back against the couch with his arm sprawled along the back of it. You curl into his side like his own personal puzzle piece, nestling your mug between your bodies with one hand and settling your free one on his stomach.
Your fingers seem to gravitate beneath his fuzzy flannel without you having to think twice about it. 
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, either. His attention is consumed by the television — a Scooby Doo re-run he’s probably seen a thousand times. His chuckle rumbles against your cheek. You laugh along with him, made content by the sound of his boyish delight.
Your fingers dance through the fuzz of his happy trail, then settle on something softer. 
The marred skin of his warm tummy feels like silk. Before you realize what you’re touching, the boy beneath you jolts.
You nearly spill your cooling cocoa when you freeze alongside him. You part from Eddie with a gaping gaze, wide eyes darting over every inch of his face. You’re frightened that you’ve hurt him, but his pink grin only widens.
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” you blurt. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Eddie turns to you, then. His features are blurry with sleep, and they twist with confusion at your misplaced concern. 
“No,” he answers with the shake of his head. The softened ends of his chocolate curls brush your cheek. A laugh sputters from his mouth. “It just tickled, babe. It’s fine.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wavers on the way out, but you manage a trembling smile anyway. “Oh. Okay,” you hum, breathless. 
“Yeah. ’S okay,” Eddie murmurs softly back, wrapping his pale arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and lingers there. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your hair.
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