#I have such a massive urge to put these into a fic

[absolute-flaming-trash]

For those of you who don't know what a groan stick noise is

[peachesofteal]

Light on -single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt(s): fire alarm, reader backstory, reader cooks for Simon, requested by multiple.

The chair at your kitchen table is small. 

It’s so small, he’s half afraid he might break it, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, and he shifts, leaning back to test its ability, hoping it won’t give way on him. The wood makes a louder groaning sound, and your voice carries from the hall, half of a jest in your tone. 

“Are you trying to break my furniture?” Shit. 

“No.” He shoots to his feet, patting the little wooden chair like he’s trying to comfort it, embarrassed that he’d been caught. “Jus’ trying to test it, make sure it’s not gonna collapse on me.” 

You have an eyebrow raised, returning from your bedroom with a pajama clad Emmaline, little red onesie dotted with deer, your hand patting her back firmly and bouncing her in your arms at the same time, her little brow furrowed like she’s irritated with you. 

“It’s fine. I’m just kidding.” You look down at her and sigh. “Are you going to let me put you down so I can finish dinner?” 

“I can take her.” He offers, and you flash him a relieved smile. 

“Hear that?” You hum in her ear, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Your favorite person wants to hang out with you.” His stomach clenches. 

“Come here baby girl. Let’s let mum have a break, yeah?” He reaches, and you bend down to place her in his arms, the smell of your skin, your hair, the scent of your laundry detergent flooding his senses. Emmaline is so small in his hands, but he’s growing more comfortable holding her, and when she settles against him easily, he can’t help the warmth that flares in his heart, overflowing through his body with pride, and… something else. Something strong. Something he thinks he knows the name of, but is too afraid to voice. Something that has him dreaming about giving you his last name, giving it to Emmaline too, tacking Riley onto the end of both you, as a stamp, a seal, a promise.

“She still needs to burp.” You tell him softly, pulling the cloth from your shoulder and arranging it onto his, fingers lingering when you smooth it out. “Do you know-“ 

“Yeah.” He assures, swiftly, and you smile again, hand brushing against his when you give her on last little pat on her back. 

“Okay. I’ll work on dinner then.” 

“You ah- don’t have to keep feeding me.” He tells you, even though the full plate of pot roast with stewed carrots, potatoes, and gravy makes his mouth water, massive portion settled in front of him like you’re trying to make sure he’s never hungry again. 

What a good girl, he muses indulgently. Good little mum. Good little wife. Emmaline coos in his arms, still awake, settled on his knee with her back to his stomach, one hand firm around her tummy. He bounces her, one hand with a fork stabbing into a carrot, the other holding her steady. Safely. 

“I can take her, if you want to-“ 

“No. You sit.” He inclines his head, and you blink, before automatically folding into the chair diagonal from him with your own plate. The room is quiet, fork chiming against china, until you speak again. 

“I don’t mind it.” You swallow, taking a long sip of water. “Cooking. For you.” You whisper it to your plate, like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, and he tamps down the urge to reach for you. “You do so much for us, you’ve- I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re mine now, sweetheart. You don’t have to repay me. It’s my job to take care of you. Take care of you both. It almost all comes out of his mouth, but instead he changes hands on the baby, putting his fork down and extending the one closest to you, palm open on the table, a gentle entreaty. 

“I don’t mind, helping. Someone’s gotta take care of you girls.” Your eyes go wide, lips parting, before you’re collecting yourself, looking down into your lap with a stunned little smile. “Sweetheart, I-“ 

The words are robbed from him, stolen by a screeching, blaring noise in the hallway, a high-pitched alarm that has him out of the chair, shoving the table with one hand and positioning himself between the door and you, curled over Emmaline who’s now crying, startled. 

“Fire alarm.” You wince, but when he doesn’t relax, your expression goes waxy, soothing, and your hand finds the inside of his elbow. “It’s just a fire alarm, Simon. People fuck with the pull station now and then. Probably nothing.” It takes a second, a second too long for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he blanches, looking you over for fear, repulsion, of him. Distaste of the secondhand reaction that he just cannot control. 

He doesn’t find it. Only blithe acceptance. Understanding. He clears his throat. “Let’s get outside then.” 

It’s cold outside. Winter is in full swing, and he’s happy he forced you into your winter jacket when did, amid your distraction, too pre-occupied with wrestling a screaming Emmaline into her coat and hat, swaddling her up in a fluffy blanket before you even stopped to think about yourself. 

“It won’t be long.” You tell him, alternating between trying to soothe the baby’s frantic tears, and looking around anxiously. “Station seventy-four is just a few blocks north.” Station seventy-four? “Look, see?” You point, cooing at Emma, red emergency lights flashing down the street. You stray closer to him, pressing into his side, and he puts his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder. You’re… nervous, and he’s not sure why. The fire alarm didn’t seem to rattle you too much but now, you’re chewing on your lip, eyes scanning across the people milling about outside. 

“You alright?” He murmurs, and you nod. 

“Just cold.” You reply through clenched teeth. 

It doesn’t take long for the fire service to get the building sorted, and once they give the all clear, you break from his side, beelining towards the front of the building. He’s about to jog after you, surprised at the pace that you've managed to make, when he hears someone calling your name. Practically yelling it, and he pulls up short.

It's a firefighter. He approaches you with an open palm, like he's trying to corner a wounded animal, and your face pinches at the corners, hand cradling the back of Emmaline's head. Simon inches closer, getting within ear shot, using the dark and the people still scattered about to sink into shadow, becoming Ghost, silent, unnoticed, and lethal. Nearly unseen.

"-are you?" The firefighter asks, staring at the baby in your arms with wide eyes.

"I'm fine. We're fine." You reply stiffly, looking away with a grim, haunted expression.

"You never come down to the station... we'd- we'd love to see you both. Or if you ever needed anything, we're here for you. We-"

"Thanks." you cut him off, trying to turn away, but he steps after you, protesting.

"I know it doesn't-"

"Officer." An older man interrupts, sharply, and the younger firefighter straightens.

"Captain."

"You're needed for system reset." He instructs, and the officer takes one last look at you, something conflicted in his face, before nodding and stepping away. "He's not wrong." The Captain tells you gently, and you shake your head.

"We don't need anything from you."

"You need community. Support. The station is a family, we look after our own."

"I'm not your own." You snap. "He was! He was your own. And how well did you look after him, Captain?" The words are vicious, pointed like arrows, seeking to maim, to hurt, and the look on your face is so anguished, so tormented, that Simon can't stand to see it for one more second.

"Everything alright?" He steps between you and the Captain, positioning his body so that you're half hidden, and your shoulders immediately slump, tension draining from you when you look up into his face.

"Yeah, let's go inside. It's too cold out." You tell him, and he nods, casting a glance over his shoulder at the frowning man, letting his hand slide over your shoulder and down your spine, directing you inside and keeping you close.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again once you're in the hallway outside your door, and you turn into him, close enough that he can lean his nose down to skim through your hair.

"I'm okay." You whisper, fingers finding his at his hip. "We're okay."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions,  and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

________________________________

“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.” 

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms. 

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3. 

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful. 

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms. 

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected. 

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care. 

It also wore off in 24 hours. 

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans. 

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach. 

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised. 

The other two were different, they had… other urges. 

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data. 

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.” 

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much. 

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long. 

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.” 

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that. 

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?” 

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased. 

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.” 

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost. 

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?” 

He nodded and held his arm out to you. 

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen. 

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.  

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him. 

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped. 

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?” 

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him. 

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms. 

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid. 

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins. 

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip. 

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this- 

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red. 

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him. 

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible. 

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time. 

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut. 

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound. 

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense. 

Almost. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this. 

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name. 

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect. 

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. 

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch. 

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret. 

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up. 

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once. 

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum. 

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'. 

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth. 

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist. 

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh. 

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this. 

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating. 

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release. 

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you. 

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off. 

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release. 

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating. 

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest. 

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side. 

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough. 

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second. 

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative. 

It shouldn't take long. 

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes. 

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run. 

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth. 

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work. 

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. 

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others. 

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful. 

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back. 

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine. 

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick. 

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level. 

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful. 

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core. 

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check. 

It doesn’t last long. 

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in. 

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on. 

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts. 

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got. 

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words. 

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper. 

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going. 

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust. 

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end. 

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change. 

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory. 

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down. 

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure. 

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade. 

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before. 

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless. 

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans. 

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you. 

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal. 

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears. 

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength. 

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips. 

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength. 

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements. 

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze. 

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes. 

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either. 

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside. 

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully. 

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control. 

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat. 

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly. 

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip. 

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him. 

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you. 

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat. 

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him. 

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in. 

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight,  his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin. 

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release. 

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily. 

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat. 

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter. 

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin. 

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly. 

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. 

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm. 

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves. 

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-” 

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs. 

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation. 

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you. 

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw. 

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.” 

.

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns. 

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time. 

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated. 

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down. 

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?” 

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now. 

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin. 

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath. 

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently. 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Happy to help.” 

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand. 

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused. 

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.” 

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong. 

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation. 

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe. 

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul. 

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.  

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered. 

You frown and shake your head, confused. 

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

[toxicanonymity]

Hunger.

7k, raider!Joel x f!reader

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

raider playlist 🖤sweet pea (smutty)

SUMMARY: Joel takes you on an eventful trek. You have a bit of a meltdown and he comforts you in a way he hadn't before. He kills a guy. And later, Joel finally goes down on you because he craves you and can't physically resist. WARNINGS: I8+ oral f receiving 🎉, unsafe P in V, creampie, jacking off, brief violence (og raider typical?), hurt/comfort, neglected animal (he's ok), angst, dark fluff, emotional tension, POV changes. A/N: 1/3 smut. Can read alone - Joel has been resisting the urge to kiss you. Carter is Joel's right-hand man. Jack was your bf Joel killed. Happy 6 months to the 1st raider Joel fic, have some oral.

—You 🌸🫛—

You're reading in a clover patch at one end of the trailer while Joel chops wood. Two of his men come up the hill, and Joel tells you to stay put while he talks to them. Even when Joel addresses you, they don't look in your direction. They stay in the doorway of the trailer. You put your book face down and start looking at the clovers while you try to eavesdrop.  You can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like someone might have tampered with one of the vans. You brush your hand through the leaves, and one catches your eye. Without plucking it, you gently separate it from the others to make sure it's not an illusion. There really are four leaves. You smile and get down on your stomach to look at it. You think about leaving it so it can grow more. That's what you did when you found one earlier in the week, but you pluck this one.

The men go back down the hill, and Joel goes inside for a moment before emerging again. You're laying the clover leaves flat between the pages of your book when Joel calls you inside. Then he leans against the trailer with an arm above his head, the side of his wrist resting near the top of the door frame as he waits for you.  He's wearing a body holster now. "C'mon, let's go," he shouts so you can hear him. 

"Ok," you call. 

You just want to finish pressing the clover into the page, but he rushes you: "Now." 

"What for," you ask.

"Cause I said." He disappears inside, and his back looks so broad, framed by the holster straps. 

You come in and pout in the window nook with your book closed, waiting for him to explain. There's a belt on the kitchen table.  Joel emerges from the bedroom and tells you he's going down the hill to help fix the van, and you're coming.  

“you good in that?” he asks, looking at your spaghetti strap dress. You nod. You like the dresses he gave you, and it’s still warm enough, you think.  He confirms, “Sure ya won’t be cold?” and you nod. He seems glad. 

He approaches the kitchen table holding something strappy and leather. He pulls out a chair and faces you in the window nook. 

"C'mere," he says. "Gonna carry your gun today." 

"Oh," you put down the book. Sounds exciting. Sounds like he trusts you. "Yeah, sure," you try to play it cool. He takes your knees and swings your legs toward him. 

"Gonna see if this piece'a shit's worth anything. If not, ya wear mine okay?" He thumbs the shoulder strap of his holster. 

You frown and mutter, "I like when you wear it," eyeing the muscles straining his white shirt.  He suppresses a smile, but you see it in his eyes. 

"Gimme your leg," he commands. You give him your leg on your shooting side. You watch his face. He has a toothpick behind his ear.  He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall all the way down your raised leg, exposing your panties. His eyes linger there, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster. He wraps the strap around your thigh and mutters, "good."  He slides the strap into the buckle, then tightens it. "Too tight?" He asks. 

"No."

He fastens the buckle on your inner thigh, and his massive hands map your thigh, checking the fit. You flinch in pleasure as his fingers graze the edge of your panties.

There's a long ribbon dangling from the other end of the holster where another strap should be. He laces it through two hand made grommets on each side. There are two more empty holes on the top of each side. 

"Here," you offer and take both ends of the ribbon from him. You tie it in a bow on the outside of your thigh. 

"That gonna hold?" He asks. 

You shrug. "Feels ok, what do you think?"

He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips, and his gaze remains for another inhale, then he pries his eyes away, sticks the toothpick in his mouth, and lets your foot down.  You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself, quickly cupping his crotch through his pants as you slide the gun into the holster. 

"Walk," he mumbles. 

You walk the length of the kitchen. 

It's a weird sensation, having one of your legs burdened by a weight while the other one is free. But aside from that, it's fine. 

"Alright?" He asks.

"Yeah." 

He nods, "Good. C'mere."  You stand right in front of him, between his knees. "Hold your dress up for me."

You hold it up over the holster. 

"Higher. Belly button." 

He grabs the belt from the table and when he picks it up, ribbons are dangling from its holes. The ribbons have their ends burned and melted like a shoelace for threading.  He fastens the belt securely around your bare middle, then threads the loose ribbons through the empty grommets on the top of the holster and secures them. 

He turns you to the side, tugs at the ribbon, and mutters, "good." Then he can't help but grab a handful of ass, and your bottom lip creeps under your teeth.

As he turns you to face him again, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth and gives you a serious look. "Comin' with me today, sweet pea. Ya do what I say, understand?"

You nod.

"I say get outta here, ya run. I say stay put, ya don't fuckin' move." 

"Got it."

—-

He puts the toothpick behind his ear and picks up a few pieces of jerky off the counter as he stands up. He hands you a piece. 

You take a bite and chew it as you walk down the hill. You watch his jaw flex when he chews.  You tell him, "This one's good."

"Cause Carter made it," Joel notes.  You cringe at yourself,but he doesn't seem offended. "Turkey," he adds. 

Turkey, that's why. Much better than venison. You haven't had poultry in a while, not even grouse. Traps have been empty. 

"I love yours," you tell him. 

Joel gives you an appreciative pat on the back of your head, then his hand trails down your back, over the swell of your ass. He slides his hand under your dress and palms your butt cheek. He lifts it, then lets it drop. 

Joel brings you around the front of the stash house where the vans are normally parked and tells you to wait. There’s only one van. One of the other guys took the second van to get gas and isn’t back yet. 

You reach under your dress and adjust the holster as you sit down on a patch of grass to watch. Joel's muscles glisten and flex as he lifts the hood of the van and props it open. He looks around the inside of the van and dabs his head with a bandana that he tucks back into his pocket . He looks under the van while you pick tall blades of grass and braid them together. 

When he's done, he tells you they need a part. Need to go to the junkyard and see if they can find one. You’re going with him and Carter on foot.

—

The junkyard is a few miles on the other side of Joel’s trailer. You go down that side of the hill and walk through the abandoned mobile home park to get there. It’s the first time you’ve seen most of it close-up, aside from through the scope of Joel’s rifle. The rest of the journey is mostly on a dirt road, and you have to climb through a fence to get into the junkyard. 

It feels like you’re there for a long time. You hear the weak bark of a dog in the distance. Joel thinks it’s coming from the woods. It stops.  There’s a house that looks abandoned, but Joel thinks there might be junkies in it. He says they gather around there. He’s even found one sleeping in a car. When Carter finds a part they think will work, they have trouble taking it off the truck. They don’t have the right tools. Brute force isn’t an option because it could easily break. 

The three of you cautiously approach the house and the barking starts again. The structure is run down, and the windows are busted out. It’s small, can’t be more than a couple of rooms. 

—--

As Carter sweeps the house, you go around back with Joel, and there's the dog. He's skinny and his bark is weak and strained. He's chained to a pipe on the side of the house. The pipe has been pulled a little bit outward so it's leaning, but he wasn't strong enough to free himself. He's a scrappy little mutt with a floppy ear. Probably less than 20 lbs (9 kg). You and Joel both stare at the dog, then Carter calls from inside, “Miller!”

Joel looks around to make sure you’ll be alright for a minute. “Don’t move. Stay alert. Hand on your gun.” 

As Joel goes inside,  Carter says, “Think he’s alive.” 

“Infected?”Joel asks. 

“Nah, see the track marks?”

“Piece’a shit left his dog to die.” 

Outside, the dog watches you. He sits attentively with his head down.  You put on a soothing voice for him. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?" He lowers his head almost to the ground as he slowly stretches his arms out, then his tail starts to wag hesitantly, staying close to the ground. He begins to whine.  There are a couple of bones behind him with no meat left on them at all. 

Carter comes out to watch you.  There's a metal bowl upside down out of the dog's reach.  "He needs water," you say. Carter looks around then reaches into his backpack and hands you his water. You pour some into the dish for the dog, and his tail begins to wag with more pep. When you reach out to touch the dog, he flinches and backs away, then cautiously returns and gets closer to you than he was. 

Carter gets closer, and when he reaches out for the dog, it growls and barks ferociously. Carter isn't afraid–it's too small to be afraid of. He reaches for the dog's collar and the dog chomps his hand with a vicious growl, high pitched from his throat. He doesn't want to let go.

"DAMN!" Carter yells. "SHIT," he shakes his hand.

"No," you firmly tell the dog. The dog lowers his stomach onto the ground and raises his brows pathetically with a whine. 

"He's just scared," you tell Carter as he rinses the wound with the rest of his water.

"I know, I know," Carter nods. He puts his water back in his backpack. "Feisty little fucker." He spits on the ground. 

“We’ve gotta get him out of this,” you mutter.  

Carter tries to stop you. “Don’t touch–”

You hold your hand out to the dog, and Carter sighs in resignation. The dog reaches his neck out to sniff you, then licks you. He lets you touch him. Then you touch his collar and he growls, but not as bad. The collar has inner spikes that must be hurting him. It's too big and has some slack hanging down from where it's been tightened.

Joel comes outside with a bag of tools clinking heavily against each other. 

"What the hell's goin' on out here?" You give Carter a hopeful glance and he doesn't snitch on the dog for biting him. 

You look at Joel. "He's gonna die if we don't get him free," you explain.  Joel lunges toward the dog and you try to warn him, "WAIT-"  Joel stops short of bending over and instead looks at you. The dog goes after his ankle, bearing his teeth and going nuts.  Joel shakes his leg free. You tell the dog, “No" and he submits on the ground with a whine. Joel looks at the dog and raises his gun. 

"You wouldn't," you whine. "He's protecting me."

“Course i wouldn’t. Damn.”

Joel steps closer and aims at the drain pipe behind the dog, shooting the chain to break it. It hurts your ears but it works. The dog yelps and skips out from the building, chain dragging behind him. Joel takes the bag of tools back to the truck where they found the part, leaving Carter with you while you try to free the dog. 

"C'mere," you sit back on your knees and open your arms for the dog. With the freedom of movement, you can work the collar off him. The dog whimpers and paws at the collar with you. When he lets out a sharper, high pitched whimper, you freeze as it triggers a memory. Your chest feels hollow and long-buried grief stabs at the backs of your eyes. You push it away. You don't want to cry. You want to be tough and whatever else you need to be for Joel to always take you with him. The dog whimpers again and you return to the task. You free him from the collar and he trots away from the house. 

— Joel ⛓️ —

When he gets back, the dog is playfully pawing at your knees.  You scratch behind his ears and he rolls over. One look at your face and Joel knows what you want. 

"Alright, let's go," Joel says and looks at the ground next to you. He steps forward and the dog growls. "It's ok," you tell the dog and you reach for Joel's hand. 

“Maybe he wants to come with us,” you say as casually as you can. 

Joel clenches his jaw and shakes his head. 

"I can take care of him," you plead, your eyes big and watery. "He's not big, he doesn't need much." 

Joel shifts his weight as he looks at you for a moment. "I know ya get bored-"

"Not because I'm bored," you protest. "He's hungry."

"No," Joel tells you firmly and your tears overflow. God damnit, not here. He's hungry because he was chained. He'll be fine now.

Joel doesn't want to share resources, doesn’t want the barking to attract attention, and doesn’t want someone to come after the dog–after you–if there’s anyone left to come. The junkie inside is as good as dead, but they run in packs and they’re dangerous.  

"It's for your own good, sweet pea.” Joel really thinks it is. 

You shake your head no. "I had one," you sniffle. "Before." 

Joel’s nostrils flare at the shake of your head, then his stomach drops. He doesn't want to know about before. He does, but he really doesn't. He covers his mouth with the crook of his thumb as he rubs both sides of his beard. Before. It gets harder and harder to avoid. He shakes it off.  All he can do is keep you safe and take care of you the best he can, which means taking care of only you. He shakes his head no again, then reaches into his backpack. He throws a piece of jerky as far as he can. “He’s fed, Gonna be fine.” He throws another piece. 

You watch the dog run off for the jerky, but you're in a trance, thinking about something else. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Joel steps forward, wraps a hand around the inside of your bicep, and gently pulls.  You try to resist walking, and his grip gets firmer. You stand there watching the dog, feet planted on the ground, muscle tensing under Joel's grip.

Joel faces you and cups your face with both hands, making you look at him. He gets a few inches from your face and lowers his voice.  “Ain’t gonna spank ya in front’a Carter, but ya better move.”  He means it. Non-negotiable.

He grabs your arm again, and as he starts dragging you away, you blurt out, "Her name was Daisy. She saved my life."

Joel ignores it.  “Move. Now. Or I’m pickin’ ya up.”  You relent and stop resisting. Smart. He wouldn't want to regret bringing you with them.

Joel squints into the ground as the two of you walk. Carter walks ahead, not wanting to get in the middle of it.  “Maybe this one could save me, too," you suggest. "if you’re gone.” 

Damnit sweet pea, you sure are smart. Nice try, but that's what Carter is for.

"Dog that size?” Joel laughs. You compose yourself. You walk in silence for a few minutes, but Joel is still thinking about it. “How,” Joel asks, and adjusts his backpack. “How’d she save you? Must’a been bigger, right? meaner?”

Carter looks over his shoulder with a side-eye at the word “meaner,” but doesn’t reveal his injury.  

You don’t answer Joel. You're checked out. You keep eyeing the tree line, but you wouldn’t. . . There's no way you’d run, right? 

You look at him with your eyes red. “You don’t wanna hear it.” 

The vacant look on your face makes Joel stop in his tracks to face you. “Tell me,” he demands. 

You sniffle and look toward the tree line again. “Can I go pee?”

Joel can’t read you right now, which disturbs him. “Yeah,” he mutters and puts his massive hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the forest. 

He starts to come in behind you, and you ask him, “Do you mind if I go?” 

He swallows and furrows his brow as he looks at you. You must read his concern, because you hand him your bag. He nods. He steps into the woods, but tries to give you some space, without losing track of you. He doesn't wanna have to chase you down, but damnit he'll tackle you if he has to, to save you from yourself. His stomach is uneasy.

There’s a hollow, rusted truck about 30 paces away. You go on the other side of it. Joel knows you’re not just pouting about leaving the dog. There's more to this. But you’re right, he’s not sure if he wants to know. 

Until he hears you sniffling, and it's not just sad, it's scared, painful.

Ah, fuck it. He moves as quietly as he can.

“Sweet pea,” he says softly as he walks around the old hollowed-out car. You’re squatting–not peeing, just hugging your knees, facing the abandoned car. You're shaking and your cheeks are wet. There's not much space, but Joel gets between you and the car.  He takes his backpack off and drops it to the side.

“She wasn’t afraid like me, Daisy,” you choke out and wipe your cheeks with the heel of one palm.  “They,” you croak. You pause and try again. “He had a gun-” you close your eyes. “Pointed at, pointed at me," you take a deep breath and keep your eyes pinched shut. "He was, he was gonna—but she wouldn’t," you choke on a breath. "She wouldn't stop barking.”  

"Shhhhh, it's ok." Joel cuts you off. It's too hard to see you re-living this. He doesn't want you to get to the details. He squats down. His head is full of pressure, and his heart is full of rage. You take shaky, shallow breaths. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets his knees into the ground. “Breathe,” he says. “Breathe, sweet pea.”  You lean forward, letting your weight into his arms, and he holds you for a minute as you regain your breath.  He cradles your head.  "Yeah, you're okay, I got ya."  He buries his mouth in your hair. "I got ya, baby," he whispers. You wipe your eyes on his shoulder and your cheek catches on the holster.  When you lift your head, you apologize and he shakes his head no.  He brushes a fresh tear off your cheek, and arousal stirs in his pants.  

“Who did it,” he asks, unable to mask the darkness in his question. 

“Just a guy,” you tell him. A guy like himself, Joel assumes with disdain. 

“What kinda guy” 

You sigh and he hates making you think about this, but he needs the answer. “Mean. Had a gold tooth.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and nods. 

"FEDRA," you add, and Joel's face goes cold. His mind goes blank. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe as the life is sucked out of him and replaced by ice cold rage. FEDRA. Not a guy like him.

 “How’d ya get away?” Joel asks. 

You look at him for a second, doing a double take at his face.  You shake your head. “You don’t wanna hear it." You bury your head in his neck again. You’re right, he doesn’t want to, but he insists.  

“Tell me.” 

“Jah–” you stop and look at Joel’s face. His jaw clenches. He knows what's coming, but the thought of FEDRA has fortified him with numbness. 

“S’okay, sweet pea.”

“Jack shot’m.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and looks up at the forest canopy, then bows his head and looks at your knees, bracketed by his own. For a moment, Joel is filled with an uncomfortable appreciation for Jack. But that fades into, no, it should have been Joel, he should’ve had you all along, he should’ve been there to save you *and* your dog. 

“He take good care of ya?” Joel asks in self-loathing. 

You shrug. 

“Better than. . .now?” He can take it.

“No,” you shake your head. “He didn’t shoot him dead.” 

Jackass fucking moron cuck. He left that motherfucker breathing? Suddenly Joel is glad he killed Jack. 

Joel nods, “I see.” He keeps nodding slowly, looking to his right at the moss on a far off tree, clenching his jaw.

"And I didn't have a gun," you add. "Cause I killed a guy Jack said not to." Joel scoffs. You could've killed the guy yourself if not for Jack.

You continue,  “and. . . Jack didn’t cook.” Joel chuckles, caught off guard -- he'd forgetten his original question. You keep going, “And he didn’t–I didn’t–I didn’t feel the same,” you wipe your eyes.  This has gone far enough, and Joel knows it's his own fault. His stupid question.  He takes the toothpick from behind his ear.

You look at him with your eyes all watery, and Joel's cock twitches. The next thing he knows, his massive hand is wrapped gently around your jaw. You put your hands on his shoulders, then straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck. 

"Mmm," he sighs as your warm crotch meets the bulge in his jeans, and he swells harder against you. He holds your face about two inches from his, looking down at your mouth, then your nose, and your eyes again. He puts his toothpick in his mouth and looks past you as he lets go of your jaw. You bury your head in his neck, blinking warm tears into his skin, making him harder. He whispers your name. He relaxes and takes the toothpick out of his mouth just in time for a branch to fall on the car with a loud clang. 

"All good?" Carter yells from the treeline. 

“Shouldn’t stay here long,” Joel mumbles as he puts it back behind his ear. ”Bad area.” He eases you off his lap back onto your feet, as you both stand up. He brushes dead leaves off his pants and your knees. He adjusts himself, puts his backpack over one shoulder, then reaches down and you take his hand.  You walk a few steps together and he looks back at you slightly behind him. He realizes you’re shaking. He drops your hand, goes in his backpack, and pulls out a flannel that he packed even though you said you were fine. He unfolds it, holds it out, and helps you put it on. 

“Thanks,” you whisper and rub your nose. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck as you walk.

Joel stews and broods as you leave the forest together. He wants to go back in time and kill everyone who’s ever hurt you, anyone who let you get hurt, and anyone who failed to hurt the people who hurt you. His muscles are all tense, and his veins are throbbing.

When you get to the treeline, Joel asks Carter, "Can ya gimme five?"

"Sure thing, boss.".

“No ones gonna miss that asshole," Joel mutters as he checks his gun then sets his sights on the house. 

Joel can’t go back in time, but by God, he’s got to kill someone. He drops his backpack then hurries back to the abandoned house, rifle in both hands. When he gets there, he puts the rifle around his back and grabs the dog chain off the ground on his way in. 

—---You 🌸🫛-—

You and Carter look at each other. “How’s your hand?” you ask him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “I dunno where the little bugger went,” he looks around for the dog.  

You both ignore the sound of the chain thrashing around until you hear grunting and look toward the house. Punches are landing. Carter puts a hand on his rifle but doesn’t move yet. Joel grunts and yells between punches. A minute later, Joel steps out of the house, walking backwards, with the chain pulled taught, and a bloody man dragging behind him. Joel kicks him up against the wall, hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then wraps the chain around the drain pipe where the dog was tied up. Joel hits the man again, then aims the rifle and calmly shoots him. Even if you never see the dog again, you're certain the dog is better off without that man. Joel wipes blood splatter off his brow and scowls at the ground as he walks back to you and Carter.

“Ya good?” Carter asks him. 

Joel nods. He’s sweaty, chest heaving.  You try not to let your eyes linger on the remaining blood. You observe his throbbing veins instead. The whole scene has you clenching your thighs.

You walk mostly in silence. When you stop for water, you realize you're being followed. Joel doesn’t notice, but you see the dog duck behind an old car when you turn around. You keep a straight face.

You hear something in the distance. Dust is kicked up down the road. Carter says, “Finally.”  It’s the van that still works, picking you up. You didn't know it was coming and wish the dog could follow you the rest of the way home, but you don’t say anything. You're glad he's unchained. 

—–

When you get back to the stash house, Joel works on the broken down van. When he’s done for the day, he takes you back to the trailer and washes the grease off. When he comes out of the bathroom, you're sitting in the window nook looking at your book, but thinking about the dog. He comes over, wiping his hands off on a towel. "Wanna go out 'n' shoot?" He seems to want to cheer you up.  

Joel goes first. He looks through the scope at the trailer park. Ever since those guys showed up one night, he's looking for other raiders or troublemakers. Then he lines up a shot at the usual target. Your eyes are on his biceps. When Joel is about to take aim, the rare sound of ducks honking startles you. They should’ve already flown South. Joel gets up on his knees and aims toward the front of the flock. He hits one, shifts ahead of the flock, and hits another. It gives you butterflies. You hear a thud as the second one hits the ground. 

“Nice!” you tell him. He winks at you and puts the gun strap over his shoulder. You smooth your dress under your butt as you stand up, then adjust the thigh holster. Joel groans as he stands up. You peer down toward where the birds fell, and something is moving up the hill. A bird, moving strangely. A dead bird, in a little dog's mouth. 

You gasp. Joel looks at you, then follows your eyes. The bird is as big as the dog.  His mouth is open wide to fit the neck.  He crests the hill and drops the bird. "Good boy!" You praise. He does a happy circle and trots back down the hill. 

You look at Joel and try not to smile. Joel puts his hand on his hip and shifts his weight to one leg. He looks down at the ground and rubs brow with the flat of his index finger, squinting. When the dog returns with the second bird, Joel mutters, "alright, big guy," and squats down to accept the bird from his mouth.  Then you barely hear him mutter, "good boy." The dog does another circle and trots around the other side of the trailer. 

 "How'd he find us, all this way?" You marvel. 

"Must have some hound in’m," Joel shakes his head. “Guess ya made an impression.” 

Joel starts a fire and boils two big pots of water. The dog keeps a respectful distance, lounging in the same clover patch where you were sitting earlier. Joel chops the heads and feet off the birds, and tosses them on the ground. The dog scurries over, wagging his tail. He drags one of the duck heads over to the grass to chew on with his butt in the air and his tail wagging furiously, all the way upright now. 

Joel beckons you back inside to wash up and change. He takes a quick shower while you take off the flannel and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. You take off the belt, untethering the ribbons, but you leave the holster on. You sit back down in the window nook.

—-

When Joel comes out from the bathroom, he sits down, manspreads, and pats the kitchen table in front of him, looking at the skirt of your dress as you get up from your seat. You unholster your gun and set it down, then use your hands to help yourself onto the surface, sitting on your dress so your thighs won't stick.  Joel spreads your knees so he can be between them, and grabs your ass to scoot you closer. 

He lifts the dress to look at the holster, and he puts his toothpick in his mouth. 

"s'prised it worked," he mutters. He eyes your legs and runs his hands all the way up your thighs with a deep breath.  "Looks good on ya, too," he murmurs. He thumbs the ribbon of the holster, then unties it. He unbuckles the real strap, too. Then he lifts your knee, slides the holster out from under you, and sets it aside with the gun. He runs his hand over the indentation in your skin from the buckle. "that hurt?" He asks. 

"No." 

He puts his elbows down on either side of your hips, and his biceps rest against your thighs. He looks back and forth between your breasts and takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he throws it into the kitchen sink and it hits the metal with a light plink. 

He furrows his brow and looks at your body, then puts his cheek flat against your breast at the lace neckline of your cotton dress while he palms the opposite tit. He turns his face to nose your nipple, and it hardens through the fabric of your dress. He dampens the cotton with his mouth as he flattens his tongue against it. One hand holds your back, near your shoulder blade for leverage, with his thumb hooked under your arm. 

He kisses wetly at your breast through your dress, then glances up at you. His hands slide up to the straps of your dress. He gently nudges the straps off your shoulder. His fingers skim your nipples as he curls his thick fingers into the lace neckline, then pulls the dress down below your tits.  He presses his wide tongue onto your nipple and closes his eyes as he latches onto it. Then he lets go with a soft pop and sucks below the nipple as he massages the other breast.  You're gushing arousal with your legs wide open.  He inhales through his nose and his stomach growls. 

"Joel," you sigh, resting your hands on his muscular back. You watch his vein 

His only response is "Mmm," into your nipple.  You're throbbing, and the more attention he pays to your tits, the more your cunt aches to be filled. You want to let him explore your body, it's not something he normally does, but it also makes you want his cock so bad. You want him to slide you off the table and sink you onto his massive erection. He's really taking his time.  You take a deep breath and try to relax. Your clit twitches. 

Joel pulls down the dress a little more, exposing an inch or two below your breasts. He switches sides, dragging his mouth to his right, your left.  With your left nipple in his mouth, he looks up at you and makes sleepy eye contact. His pupils are blown wide. 

"Joel, I want it," you plead.

His tongue trails as he moves his mouth an inch to the right of your nipple, then he closes his eyes again. He licks and sucks the outer curve of your breast, massaging the other one with a thumb lightly brushing the nipple, then the heel of his palm flattening it into your breast. His eyes open to watch his massive hand moving languidly on your breast. 

You whine his name again and slot your fingers into his dark, curly hair. He doesn't look up. You finger his curls and the pads of your fingers lightly caress his scalp. He pulls his mouth off your breast and backs his head away enough to look at your body. You let your fingers fall out of his hair and rest back on his shoulders. One of his hands moves to rest on your hip, his fingers curling around your flesh and his thumb brushing the hem of your dress. 

His voice is low and husky. "Ever feel like ya just. . ." He meets your gaze with hungry eyes, then looks at your lips. "gotta have your mouth on somethin’?"

His eyes fall down your body as he sits back and palms himself through his jeans.  You whisper "yeah," with a smile and begin to scoot off the table so you can suck him off. He abruptly leans forward and stops you with both hands firmly on your hips. He doesn't let you move. His brow furrows. He looks back and forth between your breasts and noses a nipple again. He murmurs low and gruff into your supple skin,  "Ain't talkin' 'bout you."

Your chest erupts in goosebumps.  He drags his hands down your dress to the bare skin of your legs, then slides his massive palms back up your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress, leaving his thumbs hooked on top. You brace your hands on the table to lift your butt for him. His hands keep moving up, reaching your hips.  The fabric of your dress bunches above your ass, then he curls his fingers under the waistband of your panties and begins to take them down. You let yourself back down on the table as he slides the underwear down your legs. It dangles between his fingers as he brings his hand to your neck and caresses the side of your throat with his thumb.

You feel the damp cotton against your throat and smell your own arousal as he grips your jaw. He locks eyes with you for less than a second before his gaze drifts downward. He returns his other palm to your breast, fingers slotting under your arm to hold you steady as he pushes you down until your back is flat on the table. He nudges your thighs farther apart.  He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and hums "Mmm." 

He drops the panties on the table. He spreads you open and thumbs your folds, bringing the moisture up to your clit.  He hunches over to bring his face between your legs and his left hand reaches up to fondle a breast.  He drags his nose through your slick and inhales, then moans at your scent. He plants his mouth on the crease of your thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth, then lets go. He runs two knuckles through your folds, then gently nudges his middle finger  inside. Your walls spasm around the intrusion and he breathes, "god damn." 

He pumps his finger once and adds a second digit. You moan, and he hums a deep "Mmm," in response.  He takes his fingers out and sucks one, then both into his mouth.  "Fuck," he breathes. 

He doesn't waste any more time, spreading you wide open with his thumbs and burying his face in your cunt. He starts at your entrance where your wetness pools and licks up from there, punctuating the first lick with a kiss on the clit that makes your thighs tremble. Then he laps at you more selfishly, like he's thirsty, like he needs to drink you. His tongue starts flat and stiffens as he digs for more and explores each crevasse. He moans into your folds.  You've never felt anything as powerful and precise as his tongue.  It's stronger than his fingers.  It makes you tingle in one swipe, then presses into the tingle for relief.  He holds you gently until you wriggle in pleasure and he holds you down firmer with one forearm across your lower belly.  

He breathes through his nose and moans as he devours you. When he pauses, he draws in a deeper breath through his mouth then exhales vocally against your wet cunt. 

"Feel good?" He asks with a glance to your face, then plants his mouth on your clit. 

He slides one then two fingers into your core again and you gasp then answer "y-yeah," as he sucks your clit while he pumps them. 

He takes his arm off your abdomen to unbutton his pants and take his stiff cock out. He pulls his face away from your pussy. You're throbbing, and your body races to replenish all the moisture he's sucked up. He gathers some on his fingers then also spits into his hand and wraps it around his length. You want it inside you so, so bad. You hear the squelching as his hand moves up and down his shaft. 

He brings his face between your legs again and puts his arm back on top of you to hold you still, angling his elbow so his thumb is planted at your clit. He laps at you again, moaning into your throbbing, swollen lips. He firmly licks between your clit and hole, then thrusts his tongue into your entrance and you whimper. He tilts his head and jabs his sharpened tongue into you again and again, pumping his cock all the while.  He noses your clit as he sucks and laps, then fucks you with his tongue again.  

You writhe under his arm. "Yeah," he whispers before planting his mouth again. He works your clit with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue into you, dragging it against the top wall, and your desperate cunt twitches against him. You let out a long whine, and his thumb gently rubs the top of your clit, over your hood. 

"Joel," you whimper and it turns into a moan. 

His thumb slows down, and he gathers more slick on his fingers. He wipes it on his shaft, then pulls you by the thighs closer to the edge, unsticking your bare ass from the table. You sit up on your elbows and whimper, "want you. . ."  

He's holding his cock, chest heaving. "Want this?"

"Yeah-yes," you whimper. "Please."

He gazes darkly at your cunt and decides, "Ain't done yet."

You whine his name as he puts his face between your legs again. He sucks your clit for a few seconds until you're whimpering, then he plants his mouth a little lower.  He flattens two fingers to rubs your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. You moan his name as your climax seizes you, and you clench around his tongue. He moves his hand from your clit to your mound to hold you steady as you come. He withdraws his tongue from your hole and laps up and down your folds for a few seconds as you continue to twitch. 

Then he stands up, holding his stiff, wet cock.  His face is flushed, and he's shiny from the nose down.  He braces a hand on the table and teases your clit with his swollen tip.  You flinch in pleasure, still reeling from your first orgasm. He notches his tip at your wet little hole, holds onto your thighs,.and shoves himself into you with a groan. He stays in for a moment, sighing “Ohh, fuck,” admiring your body as it rushes to accommodate him. You spasm around him, still twitching with aftershocks.

He backs up then slams into you with a low growl from his chest. It's a lot to take, but god it feels good. He lifts your legs and puts his arms under your knees, wrapping his hands over to hold your thighs as he buries his length in you, grunting and sighing. His balls slap against your ass. His biceps flex, and It isn't long before you begin to moan and writhe, and squeeze his cock. 

"Good girl," he breathes. "Good, sweet pea."

He closes his eyes and fucks you through it. He breathes deep and slow, like he's trying not to come yet.  He slows way down, moans, then bottoms out and begins to pulse. He brings his hands to either side of your body and hovers over you while he thrusts slowly with each warm burst he releases. You milk his cock until his balls are empty, then your contractions fade. 

Joel hovers there, admiring your body. Then he slides out and sits down on the chair between your legs again. His armpits are warm and humid on your thighs.  He puts one hand on each breast and lowers his head to rest his cheek on your lower abdomen, tickling you with his beard. He wipes his mouth on your belly and a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth hits your skin.  He stares off at the front door of the trailer in a trance, gently cupping your breasts. He mumbles, "Taste so good, sweet pea." 

You reach for his hair and he doesn't stop you from fingering his curls. His eyelids droop, and after a few seconds, he closes his eyes.  You lightly massage his scalp again. 

He only allows himself a minute or two before he tenses and clears his throat. He lifts his head and slides his hands under your arms, helping you sit up straight. 

“I'll check the birds,” he says as he tucks his cock away.  He squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before he stands up to go outside. 

------------

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Thank you for reading and engaging 🖤 It means the world to me when you show him your love! whether this post is new or old. I also love when people throw a comment when they re-read. It's like adding coals to the fire that keeps me warm and writing lol.

You can find more raider!Joel oral on the raider master list under hypotheticals/imagines/HCs.

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All Joel minus ones i'm pretty sure already saw it or are on toxic notifs or don't read joel anymore? . . : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou

[jacespookiebear]

.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 3

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

With a huff, you pulled the sheets off your heated body and the chilly air quickly hugged you. You climbed out of bed and walked out of your chambers.

Night has came very quickly, but you could not find sleep so easily. On the morrow, you will be leaving for Dragonstone with your sister, Rhaenyra. Many thoughts had roamed your mind enough to keep you from your slumber.

Without knocking, not wanting to wake your sister up, you slipped into your young sister, Helaena’s chambers. Although it was dark in the room, you could still see the blown out candles and your only light was the starry sky. You could feel her eyes on you as you slipped inside her bed, reaching for Helaena’s arms that had quickly reached out, to your surprise.

Helaena pulled you closer to her, her warmth made you feel calm and soothed. “Is it true?” she asked, in a whisper. “You are leaving?”

“Yes, sweet sister.” you answered.

She nodded, with her head comfortably resting on your chest. Out of everyone in the family, Helaena will miss you the most. To her, you are the only one who understands and never treated her differently.

“I heard from the handmaidens,” she whispered as you leaned in to hear more clearly, “sister has proposed that I could be betrothed to Jacaerys.”

From the memory being remembered in your mind, you softly chuckled. Even though, you both were in the dark, you knew Helaena’s cheeks were flushed with redness.

“And what is wrong with that?” you teased, “He’s a sweet boy! He will take care of you and honor you.”

Helaena smiled at the thought—you were right, out of the possible suitors, Jacaerys was the best of them. But she knew his heart wouldn’t belong to her, it was clear that it would always belong to another.

“I do not wish for you to leave.” Helaena suddenly confessed, biting her lip, tears falling from her eyes.

You could feel the tears falling onto your skin, “I shall visit,” you promised, with a gentle tone in your voice, “once I return, we will sit by the gardens and eat cake with berries, Meraxes and Dreamfyre by our side”

Helaena started imagining the thought while she squeezed your hand softly as she tried drifting off to sleep, “Widowed and petrified, a powerful darkness roams in the emerald sky.”

Listening to her prophecy once again, you sharply breathed in. Helaena had only whispered this prophecy to you ever since you both were children. Till this day, you had not know what it meant but it had frightened you immensely.

At last, you were able to sleep, in the arms of your sister. But you were not prepared for the massive headache you would receive the next day.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You must rethink this decision!” Alicent urged while you and Lysanna were folding all of your gowns and coats to place them in the luggages. Your things were almost ready to be put in the carriage with the other luggages that belonged to Rhaenyra and her family.

“I refuse to have you leave King’s Landing before your nameday!” you shook your head at her attempts and silently dismissed Lysanna to come back later. You turned to see Alicent with tears in her eyes, you only mentally scoffed in return.

“The King allowed it. He wishes for me to be where I would truly be happy and that is living on Dragonstone with my sister.” you reminded the queen and she only took your hands into hers as a way to plead but it was not working.

“My dearest, you would truly be happy here! In the Red Keep,” she argued and squeezed your hands, “being by the sides of your young siblings and by me. I cannot bear seeing you go, I have always saw you as one of my own.”

“This is not goodbye. We will exchange messages by raven.” you reassured, but Alicent only sobbed louder. She knew messages were nothing if you were not here by her side physically. Sure, you will miss studies with your step-mother and watching your father work on his architect. You will miss playing with your young brothers out in the courtyard. And of course, you will miss your young sister and her whispering prophets that she always tells you.

“Let us appreciate today, step-mother. I swear to you, I will visit on dragonback.”

Alicent let out a nervous sigh from her mouth. Her lips pursued as she looked down at your interlocked hands.

”I…” she stammered, and tentatively let go of your hands before stroking your long silver locks gently, “…will see to it that your luggages are properly prepared..when you arrive on Dragonstone, I want you to message the King and I to know you have arrived safely. Please remember to visit, my dearest.”

She chewed on the inner side of her cheek as she attentively watched your expression brightened at her words. As you gave her a warm hug, she could only return it back tightly. As you both let go, Alicent only had the strength to give you a sad smile before excusing herself to leave your chambers.

Before finally packing your last gown, you called for your knight to come and grab your luggages to bring them outside. While they attended to your things, you looked around the room, noticing how empty it looks without your gowns, your jewelry, your precious collections of art pieces. You snapped out of your thoughts once Lysanna came in your chambers with your nephews—they looked rather happy to know you were coming as well.

“Thank the gods, you will be living with us!” Luke beamed, you laughed at the young boy who prompted himself to sit on your old bed. “Jace was begging mother to let you come with us before she had told us you and Liz were already coming as well.”

“Shut up Luke!”

“It is alright, my Prince,” you smiled at Jace as he only turned red from your words, “your thoughtfulness moves me deeply.”

Lysanna cleared her throat before getting up from her seat and turned towards you, “Perhaps we should begin heading to the carriage? Princess Rhaenyra has already left.”

Once her words settled in, quickly you helped Luke get back on his feet and ushered him and Jace to follow Lysanna to the carriage. As for you, you decided to ride on Meraxes and meet your family at Dragonstone.

But before you decided to leave, you roamed around the castle to look for your father. You were not the type to leave your father stranded without a farewell. As you reached your father’s chambers, his knight bowed to you and held the door open.

Your father was sitting by the windows as usual, you witness him kiss the ring that once belonged to your mother. The sight had only made you feel some kind of guilt for leaving—you did not want to leave your father’s side, especially when his condition has worsen but it was time for you to leave King’s Landing.

Your father had finally looked up and his tears were replaced with a smile, “My sweet girl, what good brings you here?”

“How could I leave without seeing my father once more?” you approached your father and the gloomy atmosphere quickly disappeared once you hugged him, of course, he returned the hug happily. The act suddenly made you remember a sweet memory between you and your father when you were younger.

A sweet memory of when you ran towards your father to give him a huge hug after riding with Meraxes for the first time. He was there to see all of it.

The old King relished in the moment, it pained him to see you leave, the youngest daughter of him and Aemma, his one true love. But he knew Rhaenyra would take great care of you, she had always shown a great amount of love and care for her younger sister. And perhaps, you will come back with a family of your own, the thought only made your father feel contented. He hopes to live until then to see it.

The hug had only lasted a few seconds but you wish it lasted more. Your tears were noticed by your father and he wiped them off with his remaining hand. “You grown to look just like your mother, y/n.” your father whispered, you let go of him and stand before him. Your sad smile reassured your father.

While you prepared to leave—about to wish him farewells, he looked down at his hand, fiddling with the rings that belonged to him and Aemma with his thumb before deciding to take them off and reached over to your hand to place them gently on your opened palm. You looked back to your father with a worried look.

“Oh father! I couldn’t-“

“I want you to have them..” your father demanded, “you must have them..for me..”

Without wanting to argue back and forth with your father, you looked down at the rings with curiosity before picking up the one that belonged to your mother and examined it. It was pure gold and very beautiful. Within seconds, you slowly placed both rings on your index and ring finger. From this day forward, you will wear them with pride and with the intention of honoring your parents.

Once Viserys watched as you put them on, he saw Aemma for a split second—his heart swelled and was glad that you could be the one to hold on to the jewelry now. He never planned on donating them or simply have them be thrown away after his death. “You must be on your way now, my sweet girl.”

The farewell had almost made you forgotten about traveling, Meraxes had been waiting for you for quite some time now and you did not wish to upset the Silver Queen. With swiftness, you placed a kiss on your father’s cheek and waved him goodbye as you left his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took over a day but you and your family had arrived to Dragonstone, you let Lysanna attend to your things and unpack everything for you, told her to find the biggest chambers and place your things in there. Meraxes settled on the east side of the huge island to rest, she was very big for the dragon pit. You took the time to explore the island while the rest of your family settled inside the spine-chilling castle.

Dragonstone is cold.

But it was rather better than Kings Landing. Sure you missed the weirwood tree and the gardens. You missed your siblings, father, and step-mother. But you were met with true happiness around the presence of your older sister and her family.

Thoughts clouding your mind, you released a sigh as you roamed your hands on the sand.

It was relaxing in Dragonstone. The atmosphere made you feel at peace—even if it was actually dreary and lonely but that’s what made it better. The sounds of waves crashing towards the shore, the massive caves underneath Dragonstone, and the overwhelming winds made you gleam in happiness. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire island.

Although yes—there’s not a lot to do in Dragonstone. You see yourself spending most of your days in the massive and grand library, reading histories about your House and Old Valyria. But you had the company of Lysanna and your nephews to help you not feel lonely. Surely, Meraxes will always be in your company too, she will be with you as you roam the shores.

“How long have you stayed here?”

You looked up from your spot on the sand, quickly clasped your hands together to get rid of the sand that stayed sticking on to your palms. Your neutral look on your face replaced with a small smile.

You made room right by your side and patted the space, “Come sit, nephew. The sun is about to set.” Jace quickly sat down and moved even closer by your side.

“Mother was looking for you. She had asked me to fetch you back inside,” Jace mentioned and you turn your head to look at the shorter boy, “but I would like to spend some time with you before we head back.”

You giggled at the statement and slightly placed your head down on his shoulder, Jace only leaned into your touch. “That does not make sense, my prince, you always spend time with me. With any opportunity, you’re always by my side,” Jace felt warm and fuzzy from your words. It was the truth, since birth, he had always preferred to be with you.

“My sweet protector.”

“Princess..” Jace muttered, a hint of sadness in his voice, you looked at him with curiosity. “Has it been decided? Your betrothal?

His question made you slightly hiss from irritation. Alicent had not said anything but you never accepted the betrothal. You’re sure that since moving to Dragonstone, you do not need to marry Aegon.

But..now who will wed Aegon?

You shook your head and gave him a relieved sigh, “No,” you answered truthfully, “…but I am glad it has been postponed. I rather wait a few more years until I am to be betrothed.”

Jace finally breathed out—he was holding his breath while waiting for your answer, he smiled while he watched the sunset.

“I do not wish to see you be betrothed..at all” he whispered, softly.

“I know…I’m sorry.” you mumbled, hugging your knees tight to your chest and leaning your head to rest on your knees instead as you turned to keep staring at Jace. You could not help but caress his hair to bring some sort of comfort.

“I do not want to see you abandon me, Princess..” the young boy admitted, staring back into your tired lilac eyes. He watched your long curls of hair dance with the wind. After roaming your hand in his hair, you gently grasped his hand and smiled.

“The last thing I want is to abandon you, nephew. I swear it on my life, I will never leave your side.” You swore and tightened your hold on his smaller hand. “I shall stay by your side till my last breath.”

Jace nodded and pulled you into a strong embrace.

“There is something I have always wanted to confess,” he said, nervously while he planted a quick kiss on your cheek. “but I will tell you when I am of age, so please wait until then.”

You giggled at his sudden awkwardness, “I will try my best to wait, my kind Prince.”

“That is not reassuring!” he shouted and you continued to giggle as he started to pout. “You have to promise me, Princess!” he insisted, with his arms slightly shaking you.

After you stopped your laughter, you took a deep breath and nodded. You wanted him to tell you what is his confession but you had a feeling you already knew what he wanted to say, you were with denial—you didn’t want it to be true. But of course it had to be, you know it, the whole Red Keep knows it. You known since the day he had wished to be married to you. You weren’t ready for that day to come just yet, surely, you have felt some sort of feelings for Jace as well but you also knew it would never be a happy marriage, knowing Targaryens marriages had always ended terribly, so you shall wait until he is older and mature, hopefully, he will forget about his confession and carry on with his life.

“I promise I will wait for you, Jacaerys.”

From the tone of your voice, Jace was finally reassured. The sun also had finished setting, it was a crescent moon tonight. You got up from the sand and helped your nephew get up as well while he grabbed your coat for you and handed it back. You both started walking back to the castle—knights at the front, letting you both in quickly and you let your nephew lead you to the left wing of the castle to where you will be staying.

“Your chambers is close to mine. That way, I could always visit you without having to travel throughout the castle,” Jace informed, he looked excited as he told you. Out of all the chambers in the castle, he chose one that was closest to yours. “Come! Let us have supper!”

He took your hand once again and lead you to the dining room, your family and Lysanna were seated in the long table, quietly chatting and eating from their plates. The room looked eerie—same as all the other rooms in the castle. The chairs were dark wooden, sculpted with dragons, as for the table. The fireplace was placed by the large windows, it was the main source of light for the massive room.

Rhaenyra looked up while she was attending the babe that was placed on her lap, Joffrey. She smiled and motioned for the handmaidens to help you both be seated. You sat by Lysanna, who was happily playing with your other nephew, Luke.

“How was your adventure, exploring the land?” Rhaenyra inquired, placing her eyes on you while you took a sip from your cup. The wine tasted much more rich than the wine in King’s Landing.

“It was lovely,” you praised, “I love the shores, I watched the sunset with Jace.” As you spoke, Jace quickly turned at the mention of his name.

“It took me awhile to find her!”

Ser Laenor cleared his throat as he looked towards you and his son, while he was very much into his meal. “Dragonstone is a very big island.” he acknowledged, you nodded in agreement.

You and Rhaenyra continued to chat about many topics, you had let her known that you decided to help Lysanna speak High Valyrian. You all were happily conversing with one another and it made you feel much better, realizing this was the first family dinner you had in weeks.

The peace was interrupted when a handmaiden entered the room with immense speed, rushing to the Princess Rhaenyra. The handmaiden whispered into the princess’ ear and immediately your sister’s face dropped, and her body became tense. You turned to look and her grip on Joffrey slightly tightened.

Your sister seemed frozen, so you spoke, “Sister, what is it?” you asked, nervously. With no response, You turned to whisper to Lysanna, asking if she could put the boys to bed now. Lysanna, unknowing of the situation, nodded and helped Luke from his seat and pat Jace to follow her. As she was getting ready to leave, you gently took the babe from Rhaenyra and handed him to Lysanna before they all had left the dining room quietly.

With impatience, Ser Laenor took Rhaenyra’s hand, “Rhaenyra, what has happened?” Clearly concern was painted all over his face. The once delighted atmosphere in the room became dreary and dull

“The Lady Laena Velaryon,” Rhaenyra breathed, not wanting to make eye contact with you or Ser Laenor “has passed.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

lord I think I caught the cold lol but I updated!! Im so surprised by how much attention this story got, thank you sm guys!! I really appreciate it.

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @writer-lee5

[peachhcs]

second chances

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

being at will’s going away party leaves samy feeling confused, so she looks to gabe and ryan for help

2.5k words

woohoo a fic!! finally!! i had to rewrite this like 3 different times bc i just didn’t like how it was being written, so i think i finally like this one lmao. we are getting closer to samy and will getting back together, but keep requesting for things! (i’m also working on my other requests dw!!)

au masterlist

"okay, smile!" samy exclaimed while she held her little digital camera up to her face to get a picture of the boys all together. technically, she forced them into a photo—somehow being able to find all seven of them for a quick photo.

will's house was packed with people everywhere, so even finding an open space in his yard was like some miracle. the hockey boys smiled widely as samy's flash went off and the picture quickly displayed itself on the screen a moment later.

"aw, you guys are so adorable," the girl laughed, flipping the camera around so they could see the result.

"we should get that framed," ryan smiled as well.

"we'll take it again in like ten years to see how much we've changed," drew joked, but it only made the realization set in further that they probably wouldn't be all together again until then.

"samy should get in with her three boys," aram urged meaning her, ryan, gabe, and will.

it was determined pretty early on that those three and samy were the closest. not saying that the others weren't close with her, but it was easy to see how much of a connection all of them had with one another. samy's cheeks flushed, but she didn't have time to oppose because aram grabbed the camera from her hands and motioned for the four of them to get together.

"smile big!" the taller brunette grinned.

gabe and ryan smushed samy between them while will hung off gabe's side. their arms brushed, touching slightly behind gabe's back. the flush on the girl's cheeks didn't disappear as the flash went off again with the other boys peering over aram's shoulder.

"best one yet," the hockey player laughed, passing the camera to samy so she could see.

the sight was bittersweet. they all sported wide smiles while clinging to each other to hold onto the last moments with one another because who knew when they'd all be in the same place at once again. schedules were only getting busier as they grew into their careers. plus, things between samy and will were still somewhat rocky even though they were back on speaking terms.

that seemed to be the worst part.

"thanks for putting up with my pictures," the youngest hughes smiled, shutting off her little camera for now.

"i think you're the only reason we even have pictures together, so we should be thanking you," drew teased a bit making the others laugh. samy's gaze swept over the still massive crowd in the backyard until she landed back on will.

he must've sensed her gaze on him because he met hers almost immediately. a look neither of them really understood sat on their expressions—a mix between "i want to talk to you" and "i shouldn't talk to you" that had them struggling which one to choose.

will's family was hosting all of the hughes family for the weekend while they were in boston for the farewell party. the two only made a bit of small talk since last night when they got in to now. it was hard to describe what their relationship was at the moment. they sort of fixed things at the vacation back in july, but not much talking happened outside of that.

"hey will!" someone broke the two from their staring. both of their gazes slid to whoever just called his name, seeing a family friend motioning the blonde over.

samy watched as will said goodbye to them for now before pushing his way into the crowd. her eyes fell from his retreating figure until she found gabe's who must've been watching that entire interaction. the look in his eyes told her that he knew what she was thinking. he nodded his head, a motion saying to walk with him to somewhere less crowded so they could talk.

somehow, her and gabe have been reading each other a lot more easier than before. it must've been something they picked up ever since samy began ranting to him about everything going on her life since she didn't have will there anymore.

the two slipped away from the group through the yard until they were in the front of the house. gabe led the way to the front steps where he sat on one of the bottom ones, patting the spot beside him for samy to sit down.

"how are you?" the dark-haired boy began.

"i'm fine," the girl shrugged.

"are you guys still not talking much?"

samy pursed her lips, eyes on the car-filled driveway, "i guess. we haven't talked a whole lot since i got in last night."

"does that bother you?" gabe really turned into a therapist whenever him and samy talked about the breakup because he asked questions only her therapist would ask her about her feelings.

samy had to laugh at that thought making the boy beside her raise his eyebrow, "sorry, i'm just laughing because you kind of sound like my therapist. i don't know how i'm feeling to be honest. kind of weird? sad? happy?"

"i get it. i'm sure it's weird being here still," the hockey player sympathized and samy nodded.

"i just..i guess it makes me kind of sad that..all of our lives will and i talked about this day happening and how he'll go off somewhere to pursue his dreams and i'll still stick right by his side, but now we can hardly talk to one another and he's leaving in three days to the other side of the country," she bit her lip, pushing all the tears edging its way up her throat.

a frown found its way to gabe's lips, slowly pulling his arm around the girl for a small hug. his gesture forced the tears out as samy buried her face into her hands. he didn't say anything, instead letting her cry it out while he offered the best comfort he could in silence.

"i'm sorry. i think everything is just hitting me again," samy apologized while she wiped her tears away.

"don't apologize. it's good to feel all of it. i get it. this whole weekend has felt sad," gabe rubbed her arm in little circles.

"tell me about it," the girl mumbled earning a little chuckle from both of their lips.

samy rested her head on gabe's shoulder. the two sat in silence for a moment until they caught sight of ryan coming up from the backyard. the brunette smiled when she saw her other friend. "they told me you guys disappeared this way," ryan explained while a small smile, but it faded when he saw samy's somewhat red eyes.

"are you okay?" he quickly wondered.

"yeah, i'm fine. just got a little sad," she laughed, but not in a funny way, more like to fill the awkward silence kind of way.

ryan found gabe's eyes as the two of them spoke in only looks before he joined the two on the bottom step. "this could be your chance to talk to him more. i know it's been kind of awkward still between you guys."

"i don't know. it seems like all we can manage is weird small talk before things get awkward and tense," samy frowned. "i just wish things could go back to how they were, you know?"

"i mean..technically, you still can. you just have to do a lot of talking," ryan shrugged.

"i don't even know if i want to take him back or even like..go back to being in a relationship. do you guys even think i should?" the girl glanced between ryan and gabe. the two looked at one another again, their expressions unreadable.

"you know we can't answer that," gabe finally said.

"can you please just humor me and tell me because i can't even decide for myself," she rolled her eyes.

"he is still your best friend, you know. that kind of shit doesn't just go away, no matter how much you guys don't talk or whatever. from what we know, he's really sorry for hurting you," ryan glanced at gabe again for a second. "i don't know if we're supposed to tell you this, but like a few months ago when he was at the bauer combine he called us from rutger phones having a panic attack about you. it sounded like he really regretted what he did and he knows how much he messed up."

samy took in ryan's words, her mouth forming into an oh.

"do with that what you will, but he is really sorry and if you did take him back, he won't ever hurt you like that again. he was being stupid and i'm not defending his actions, but he really did make a stupid decision and i do hate him for not talking to you before he did it," ryan continued when samy didn't respond at first.

she looked over at gabe who nodded in agreement to everything the taller brunette said.

"you know him more than we do, samy. it's really your choice, but i think you should at least try to hear him out more and let him talk to you. at least let your friendship happen again," the dark-haired boy added.

"even if i did take him back, we don't have summer anymore. he's leaving in three days," samy finally spoke again. she watched her friends exchange another glance like they knew something she didn't.

"just talk to him. you know what they say about distance. if they really love you then nothing else matters. not even being all the way across the country," ryan said.

it looked like samy had a lot to think about, but she appreciated the truth from the boys.

—

people left the party around seven leaving everyone else staying to help with the clean up. samy started in the backyard with a big trash bag picking up the cans and bottles people left around. she actually didn't understand how guests just left their trash when there were numerous trash bins all across the yard to throw stuff in.

the others were inside picking up the rooms, so she was by herself until the back door slid open. will stood on the back deck getting the trash up there, but his gaze kept looking over at samy further down the yard. the blonde glanced back inside where he met ryan and gabe's gazes. both of them gave him a thumbs up saying go talk to her.

will walked down the deck, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth, "need any help?"

his voice somewhat startled samy, quickly looking over her shoulder and meeting his gaze. "oh, uh, yeah, sure."

the awkward silence quickly overtook them as will picked up the cups and cans on the grass. samy thought about ryan and gabe's words from earlier, cursing to herself as she plucked up the courage to try and talk.

"the party was nice," she began.

will popped back up, smiling almost immediately, "thanks. mom basically planned all of it."

"yeah i could tell. she looked like she was stressing me about everything going well," samy laughed knowing how mrs. smith got with making sure everything always went perfectly.

"thanks for coming..it..it means a lot," will's tone softened out a bit.

"yeah, i'd never miss this. i'm proud of you. you're gonna do great," the girl managed a little grin.

"thank you. you're gonna do great this upcoming season, too," will said talking about samy's soccer season.

"thanks, i hope so. it's looking pretty promising," the brunette hummed.

she found will's gaze again. his eyes searched hers like he was looking for something in her expression before looking back up the yard and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"when do you leave for school again?" the boy wondered.

"not for another two weeks. pre season won't start until the middle of august," samy explained briefly.

"makes sense. when do your brothers head back to van and jersey?"

"pretty soon. they're gonna hang around for another week and then leave."

the question was on the tip of will's tongue, he just didn't know if he could bring himself to ask. it seemed like a stretch considering him and samy hadn't even really talked since july, but gabe and ryan insisted.

"it's kind of hard to believe i'm gonna be playing against them soon," will laughed a little as they moved to a different part of the yard.

"oh yeah, i know. playing against quinn and jack will probably be scary since you've never competitively played then," samy giggled mostly to herself thinking about quinn taking down will on the ice.

"i'm actually kind of scared to play them. luke is one thing, but they've got like..years of experience under their belts," will chuckled too.

"let's just hope they go easy on you first game because you're family," the youngest hughes smiled.

her and will fell into a more comfortable silence as they continued picking up people's garbage. the conversations felt a little easier now, so samy kept talking.

"what's the plans for the apartment?" she wondered because her and will used to talk for hours about what his place in san jose would look like.

"uh, i'm not sure yet. mom's been looking at pictures online, but we'll get a feel when we're there," the boy responded.

"hey, there's always the pinterest boards i made," samy joked, but she missed the look on will's face and the question on threatening to spill out.

"actually, i..i was wondering if you'd wanna be there?" the blonde got out, eyes on samy waiting for her reaction.

the girl stopped what she was doing, "what?"

"i know it's a really crazy ask considering we haven't even really made up, but i don't know. we always talked about how you'd be there helping me move-in and decorate. for some reason, i can't picture you not there," will explained himself briefly.

samy's expression softened out, heart swelling that will wanted her there still.

"oh. i..i mean..i don't have any money for a ticket there.." her cheeks flushed into a bright pink and it was a good thing it was dark so will couldn't see the embarrassing blush.

"that's okay. i can pay for it," he said.

"no, no. i can't..i can't make you do that. no," she shook her head.

"you're not making me do it. i'm willing to do it. i have the money," the blonde quickly shook his head.

samy sighed, her eyes bouncing from the grass to will's face. "are you sure?" she asked but more as a double meaning.

are you sure you want me there? are you sure about us? about me?

"yeah, i'm really sure. maybe it can be a way we can continue to..mend our friendship," will nodded even though saying friendship hurt because he wanted nothing more than to call her his again.

"i promise i'll pay you back," samy laughed a little.

"shut up, you don't have to pay me back. i know this probably won't be the only time i'm flying you out to california," the boy grinned a little making samy blush even further.

something in the air started feeling lighter as the two walked back up to the house. that awkward tension that had been building up for the last three months slowly began dissipating while the spark began rekindling.

[annievrse]

three plans

eren x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: eren needs help asking you out!! warnings: use of y/n, very rushed ending, mikasa & jean are dating (briefly mentioned), eren and jean actually get along, the dorms are massive at my fake college (i'm talking like 2-bedroom apartment-sized, ok). w/c: 3.4k

Eren was about to leave. He sat on the couch in Jean Kirstein’s dorm and waited for him to return from his management class, cursing himself repeatedly for asking Jean, of all people, to help him with his issue. 

To be fair, you weren’t the worst issue Eren could have, but his situation, or lack of situation, with you was… an issue. Eren would consider himself a confident guy until it came to you. He had barely spoken to you, becoming speechless whenever you were nearby.

Despite having class together, he was sure he wouldn’t know what to tell you if he bumped into you on the street. So, yeah, it was a sizeable issue, considering he was harbouring the world’s biggest crush on you. 

Toying with the hem of his sweat shorts and chewing on his bottom lip, Eren sat in silence. He was well aware of Jean's invitation to play NBA 23 on the PS5, but he was too nervous to even think about taking up the offer. He’d rather sit, wallowing in his anxiety, than play a video game. So, yeah, maybe this issue was larger than he thought. 

“Ok, what do you want?” Jean’s voice and the slamming of the dorm door simultaneously cut through the quiet, making Eren jump in his spot. 

Upon realising what he was about to tell Jean, Eren turned red. He opened his mouth to say ‘never mind’, 'forget it’, or even your name, but nothing came out. 

“Woah, bro, you good?” Jean threw his backpack onto his desk chair and tilted his head. Eren nodded and then shook his head before nodding again. Jean scoffed out a laugh and held his hands out. “Okay, let’s start with making sure that you’re breathing. You’re breathing, right?” 

Eren put his hand on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest before letting out a ‘yes’. 

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed; he’d never seen Eren like this before. “Eren, calm down. Wait, you’re not dying, are you?” Jean’s sudden panic caused the brunette to shoot up from the couch. 

“No! No, Jean, I’m not. But I’m the most embarrassed I’ve ever been right now, so can you just stop asking me questions, please, and I’ll tell you what’s up.” 

The smirk on Jean’s face dropped when he realised how much this was affecting Eren. Jean didn’t speak as he nodded and sat on the couch Eren previously sat on, urging him to continue. 

Eren glared at him. “If I hear one word out of your mouth—” 

“Yeah, I got it.”

Eren sighed as he ran his hands over his face. “I like this girl, and—” 

Jean’s eyes widened. “No way! You’re like this over a girl?” He exclaimed. 

Eren clenched his jaw and tilted his head when the 6’2” boy jumped up and began shaking his shoulders. “Bro!” 

Jean’s hysterical laughter could be heard down the hallway, piquing the interest of Sasha and Connie, who smiled knowingly before they left their dorm. 

“Forget I ever told you, Kirstein,” Eren said lowly, shoving Jean’s hands off his shoulders. But before he could leave, the dorm door swung open. 

“Jaeger, what’s going on?” Sasha’s voice was twinged with mischief, Connie following close behind. Eren wished the floor would swallow him whole. 

But before he could make his great escape, Jean sported a cheeky grin and hooked his arm around the shorter boy’s neck, pulling him into a loose headlock. “Eren likes a girl, and he’s sooo shy about it.” 

“Y/n?” Connie said. Everyone paused their movements, Eren trying to escape Jean’s death grip and Sasha moving forward to tickle him. 

“How—?” Eren started before Connie cut him off. 

“Don’t think we don’t notice how you practically stare at her in Finance and search for her at the courts. You’re the most un-subtle person ever, Eren.” 

Connie knew he had hit the nail on the head when Eren turned a deep shade of pink, making his friends whoop in laughter. 

“Eren’s whipped!” They teased, ruffling his hair and poking him in the ribs as he attempted to leave. 

“No, don’t leave! We’ll help you!” Sasha called after Eren when he walked out the door. 

Eren stopped in the middle of the hallway. Was he really about to take girl advice from a bunch of idiots? Did he have another choice? He knew he'd get teased relentlessly if he told Armin and Mikasa. But he'd already told these three, and they were the biggest loudmouths in the universe.

Groaning, Eren spun on his heel and trudged back into Jean’s dorm. 

“Fine.” 

 —

The night before, after telling the boys and Sasha about his issue, Eren was given a plan and told to follow it. 

It was the first class of the day, and Eren held his usual black coffee in one hand and a note in his other. He rolled his eyes and shoved the scrap piece of paper Jean, Sasha, and Connie had written on in his pocket before running a hand through his hair. There’s no way he was going through with this. 

“Ready for the plan?” Connie asked, a giggle slipping through as he shook Eren’s arm. 

Eren forgot he had Finance with him. “Yeah, bro. Totally.” 

Connie smirked, adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder. “Get ready. Phase one is in motion.” 

Eren was about to ask him what he meant but was instead rendered speechless when he spotted you disappearing through the doors to the lecture hall. 

“Come on,” Connie pulled Eren along, nearly tripping them both. Meanwhile, Eren was running through what to say to you. His palms were sweaty, his breathing was shallow, and he licked his lips nervously.  

He saw you giggling with one of your friends, someone he had yet to know the name of, but he could barely take his gaze off you. So effortlessly gorgeous with kind eyes. Shy and reserved, but he’d seen you at parties and knew that you were the opposite when you were with the right people and in the right place. He hoped he’d eventually be someone you could be yourself around. 

“Go,” Connie’s voice brought him back to reality, and before he knew it, he was shoving Eren in your direction. 

“Con—” 

“Hey, Eren.” Your voice. 

Eren stood straight as a board, frantically looking at Connie behind him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He then focused his attention on the wall behind you, trying to remember the notes on the paper and the plan he was told to follow. The plan!

“Oh! Uh—hey, Y/n. What’s up?” He internally cringed at his attempt to talk to you.

“Not much, just freaking out over the quiz today,” You laughed, playing with your pen. 

Eren’s eyes widened. 

“There’s a quiz today,” He said it more to himself as a realisation than a question, but you nodded. 

“Yep, on topics 3-6.” 

Eren sucked in his cheeks. How could he forget? 

“Eren, you okay?” You asked him. He exhaled and nodded, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. 

“I should probably sit.” 

You held back a laugh and nodded again, not knowing what more to say. Eren would have slapped himself had he not been in a lecture hall with 300 others. 

“Bye, Y/n,” He rushed, turning around and making a beeline to where Connie sat a few rows down. 

He wore a devilish smirk when Eren plopped into the seat beside him. “So, loverboy? How did it go?” 

Eren shook his head, flustered. “Nothing happened. We’re moving on.” 

Connie’s jaw hung open. “No, the plan says—” 

“Fuck the fucking plan, Springer. It’s not happening. I can’t do it.” 

Connie felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. “Eren—” 

“Nope, I’m spending the rest of my life alone.” 

Eren didn’t dare turn around to look back at you in fear you’d have realised his intentions and laugh at him for his attempt to flirt with you. 

Connie opened his mouth to joke about something to quarrel Eren’s anxieties, but the lecturer spoke loudly over the microphone and announced that there was, in fact, a quiz. 

Plan #1 = A Fail

“I just don���t understand why we can’t tell the rest of the group. I feel like this is a friend group issue,” Connie complained. 

“This is not a friend group issue, Constance, this is a me issue, and I have come to you to help me. If I wanted their help, I would’ve asked them,” Eren said firmly. 

Connie threw his hands up in defence and nodded, mouthing a ‘sorry.’

Jean shook his head. “I agree with Connie."

"Me too!" Sasha cut in.

"We should tell them.”

“No! I’m not telling them, and soon, I won’t be telling you about this anymore," Eren mumbled.

“But, Eren, you know we love helping you! I’m sure they would love it too,” Sasha urged, sighing when the brunette shook his head. 

“Not happening.” 

The two boys and Sasha groaned and began arguing their points. 

“At least tell Armin and Mikasa. I think they deserve to know what’s going on,” Sasha hinted, smiling widely when Eren glared at her. 

—

“You what?” Mikasa’s yell made Eren step forward and cover his best friend’s mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Eren whispered. "You can’t tell anyone.“

He took his hand off Mikasa’s face and rubbed his eye with his knuckle. 

“You can’t talk to a girl because you’re scared?” Mikasa provoked, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle her childish laughter. “This hasn’t happened before.” 

“Thanks, dipshit, I know,” Eren rolled his eyes before pacing the room. 

Eren was usually the shit-stirrer of the friend group, but his friends could tell when he was in distress, and clearly, not being able to speak to you was turning out to be a bigger deal than they initially thought. 

“You really like her?” Armin asked.

Eren was shocked when he didn’t hear an ounce of humour in his best friend’s voice. “Yeah.” 

“Okay, let’s devise a plan, then.” 

Eren shook his head. “No, no more planning. I’ve already tried Sasha’s plan.” 

“Wait, Sasha knows?” Armin’s eyes widened. 

Eren laughed and nodded. “And Jean and Connie.” 

“Wow, so much for being our best friend, Eren,” Mikasa joked, ruffling his hair. 

“Get off me, and fine. If you want to make a plan, talk to them and I’ll see if your plan is good enough to use.” 

—

“This is a shit plan.” 

Armin gawked. “You haven’t even read through all of it yet.” 

Eren shook his head. “I don’t need to read all of it to know it’s shit.” 

Armin rolled his eyes and scrunched up the piece of paper in his hand. He grumbled something as he did so and found the trash can in Jean’s room to throw it in. 

“Ok, fine. Think about it this way,” Jean said, ripping another page from the notebook. “You’re Eren fucking Jaeger, okay? You’re hot and you’re great with girls, and if Y/n is the one you really want and she’s as great as you say she is, then there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll like you too. But bro, gonna be honest, this is sad to watch.”

“Shut the hell up,” Eren mumbled, a smile gracing his cheeks. But nonetheless, he cocked his head in contemplation and with a surge of confidence, he was off. Jean’s words were next to hopeless, but he was right about one thing. 

Eren really wanted you. 

You sat in the coffee shop on the edge of campus like you did every Thursday afternoon, except this time, you’d be getting a visit from Eren. 

You hadn’t expected him to stumble towards you in class last Monday morning, but you were glad he did. You’d been wanting to talk to him since the first time you saw him and you counted your lucky stars that he initiated the first conversation before you had to. Although calling it a conversation would be an overstatement, it was a few words at best. Nonetheless, since last Monday, you’d been looking for him more than you usually did. 

But, sitting in the coffee shop like you did most weeks, you didn’t expect him to put up a chair beside you. In fact, you would’ve never anticipated the hard set of his jaw with the contrast of his nervous eyes, but you weren’t complaining. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Eren greeted, his hands laced together on the table. The corner of your lip drew upwards at the sudden company.

“Hi, Ren,” You replied sweetly. You didn’t miss the way his cheeks tinted pink at the way you used his nickname. It was cute when you said it. 

“Uh—I was just wondering if you..” He trailed off, and you tilted your head, urging him to continue. “If you, uh, had the notes for class last week? After the quiz?” He said in a rush. Your shoulders visibly slumped at the mention of class but nodded, alas. 

“Yeah, I can email them over to you, or text, whichever is easier,” You smiled; however, Eren noticed it didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did. 

“You can text them to me, that would be best. Here, let me give you my number,” Eren grinned, and you felt a spark in your chest. He had the prettiest smile. 

You passed him your unlocked phone and watched as he typed in his phone number. 

“There you go,” He slides your phone across the table. “Thank you.” 

You locked your phone without checking the screen beforehand and nodded. “It’s no problem, Eren. I’ll have them to you by tonight.” 

Eren beamed and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to stop smiling. “See you next week at the game?” 

You drew in a sharp breath. “Yes! I’ll be there. It starts at 7, right?” 

He nodded and stood from the chair. “On the dot. See you there.” 

You stared out the window with warm cheeks as he left. Scrambling to pick up your phone, you open it to see Eren’s contact. 

Ren :)

Your heartbeat increased when you saw the photo of his face on the contact. He must’ve taken it while you were clicking around on your laptop to locate the class notes. 

Oh yeah, this was going to be an issue.

Plan #2 = A Success

You texted Eren later that night with the notes from class attached. He swore he stopped breathing when he saw the unknown number on his phone screen. 

“What’s up, Eren?” Reiner asked when he saw his friend in a state of shock. 

Eren whipped his head towards him. “Oh, sorry, nothing.” 

Porco squinted at Eren from behind his glasses, a small smirk growing on his lips. 

“You need new glasses or something, Galliard?” Eren snapped. The boys around him started whooping and shaking his shoulders when they heard his attitude. “Get off me.” 

“Love troubles, Eren?” Pieck joked, complaining when Sasha pinched her bicep, but then her eyebrows flew up when she realised she was right. “Who is she?” 

Jean, Connie, and Armin sat silently on the couch, Sasha, Pieck, and Mikasa on Jean’s bed while the boys prodded Eren for answers. He was becoming more snappy than before, so they knew they’d hit a soft spot. 

However, Ymir noticed that the three most talkative weren’t talking. “You know,” She threw an accusatory finger at the boys on the couch and then at Sasha. The room went silent as everyone watched the interaction. 

“We know nothing,” Connie said, shrugging his shoulders. 

But, then he winked. Fucking Connie.

The room went loud with shouting and laughter, and Eren knew he’d have to tell them eventually. 

“Fine! Calm the fuck down and listen because I’m only telling you once.” 

Ymir laid back on the giant beanbag with a shit-eating grin alongside Historia. 

Eren stood in front of them all, wringing his fingers. 

“Today, Jaeger,” Ymir rolled her eyes when Eren took a second too long, earning her and the others that snickered a glare. 

“Okay, her name is Y/n, and she’s in my finance class, okay? I’ve tried talking to her too many fucking times, and I’m hopeless. So there, are you happy now?” 

Uproar. 

Eren had boys shaking his shoulders with words of encouragement while the girls laughed and teased him for his crush. 

“You should give her your jersey for next week’s game!” Armin suggested. 

The room fell quiet. 

“Arlert, you are a genius!” Connie yelled, and Mikasa and Sasha ran out of the room to get Eren’s spare jersey from his dorm. 

But, Eren was stuck in a whirlwind of things to say, things not to say, ways of giving you the jersey, how to text you, how not to. Even though it was an overload of information, he was sure he had a sound method of getting the jersey to you. 

—

Over the course of the next week, Eren and you had been texting non-stop. A random text from you on Friday night about which diner in town was the best for ice cream sundaes had sparked a debate over what flavour ice cream sundae was the best. He then messaged you a photo of a dog he saw on his morning run on Sunday.

Despite not seeing each other until Friday due to busy schedules, Eren felt he had known you forever, as cheesy as it was. You agreed and disagreed on the same things except for the ice cream sundae dilemma.

—

“Don’t fuck this up or all of our hard work would’ve been for nothing,” Jean mumbled in Eren’s ear 3 hours before the game. Both of them were already in their game day suits, Eren with his black coffee and Jean with his new pair of Jordans.  

“Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, horsey.”

Eren had texted you half an hour before to meet him at the coffee shop, hoping you could make it. You responded immediately, accepting. Oh, how his skin tingled and the nauseous feeling in his stomach settled at the sight of the little ‘x’ at the end of the message. 

This plan may be the best one yet. 

Jean left Eren alone at the coffee shop to make his way down to the basketball court, saluting him as he walked off. Eren shook his head and rolled his lips between his teeth. It was now or never. 

“Eren!” You called from across the grass, waving at him. He swore the smile on his face couldn’t get any bigger, but when it came to you, he didn’t know what was possible. 

“Hey, how are you?” He asked, a grin playing on his lips. You laughed until you stopped in front of him. 

“I’m great now. Are you excited for the game?” You questioned, lacing your fingers in front of your body. 

Eren nodded before he realised why he asked you to meet. “I, uh, actually wanted to ask if you wanted to wear my jersey tonight, to the game? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but I just thought I’d ask anyway–”

“Of course, I’d love to,” You said shyly. Eren sighed in relief as he passed you the black material. 

You giggled as you unravelled the jersey, admiring the ‘Jaeger/4’ on the back. Your heart leapt in your chest and your stomach was full of butterflies. You let out a little noise of happiness and peered at Eren. 

He watched you with such adoration, it shocked you at first, but then the feeling of his eyes looking at you so intensely was something you wanted for the rest of your life. 

“I—”

“God, you don’t know what you do to me,” Eren blurted. He’d never felt so vulnerable and embarrassed, but those lovely eyes of yours assured him that whatever he was feeling was okay. “Sorry.” 

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline. You weren’t expecting that. 

“Don’t be sorry, Eren,” You said softly, your voice void of any indication you were making fun of him. “The feeling’s mutual. I was actually going to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you before you interrupted me.”

“Really?” He laughed in disbelief—he never thought he’d meet someone like you who’d want him back. His friends were right.

You nodded, playing with the collar of the Jaeger jersey in your arms. You smiled and felt your cheeks get warm. “Now, go. I don’t want to get in trouble for keeping you from warm-ups, you’ve got a game to win.” 

Eren brought his fist up to his ear before he pointed at you and stepped backwards. “I’ll look for you in the stands, okay?” 

You giggled and nodded. “Score a point for me, Ren?"

“I’ll score multiple for you. And maybe I’ll buy you an ice cream sundae after the game.”

You gasped, and your smile grew impossibly larger, your cheeks hurting from grinning and the cold.

“Chocolate and banana?” You call after him.

“You bet! I’ll even get you extra M&Ms.”

And once he was a fair distance away, you spun around, screwed your eyes shut, and laughed excitedly.  

Plan #3 = The Winner

[lycheedr3ams]

okokokokok huihihhi this is my first time submitting a request so I'm not sure where to start but here: I have this lingering idea in my head where werewolf!Konig experiences hormonal urges and instincts since its nearing his 'time of the month' (Is this right). He becomes extremely clingy or possessive like those normal werewolf fics- Konig being hybrid has a hard time controlling his feelings and urges so he sometimes switches to mean and overly possessive to a big softie depending on how his cutie lil mate behaves (he won't hesitate to put his mate into her place if she tries to rile him up).

He'll definitely make a 'den' of any clothes and fabrics he could find and make a comfy makeshift nest. His sweet darling won't be able to leave or do anything during those weeks; she can't even make it one step out the den before strong hands pulls her back into the nest.

Werewolf!Konig is so needy and cuddly he would always keep his arms around his human or pin her down with his massive weight if she continues to 'leave him.' If there's one thing in Konig's mind, its the desire to be with his mate in the messy but comfy den he made for them. Its just a part of his instinct and need to spend time and bond with his chosen mate (would leave some small bites here and there and maybe rub himself against his beloved).

Lastly, the problem with his raging hormonal behavior is that his sweet human would have no idea if things would end either in a soft cuddling moment or hours of full-blown mating session :)

this sounds like werewolf!konig during mating season, which for wolves, is from january-march in the US.

i can definitely see this! i think werewolf!konig would have two "dens". one actual den in the woods, maybe a little overhang/cave thingy. and then his second den is your bed, which is stacked high with blankets and pillows. he always has to make sure you're warm and comfortable.

i don't think he'd ever take you to his den in the woods because it's dirty and cold, not suitable at all for his mate who deserves to be pampered at all times. but if something happened and you had to go to his den in the woods, it would be full of deer and rabbit hides that werewolf!konig hunted during the night, as well as dried leaves for padding and maybe some feathers here and there. it wasn't your favorite thing, but you knew this was just a part of his wolf nature, so you never complained.

[froggibus]

omg okay so like.. maybe hate sex with hanzo or cassidy??? with maaaayyybbeeee just a touch of enemies to lovers??

Right Here, Right Now - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! Reader

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: you and Cass are not on the best terms—he’s cocky and you’re bratty, but after a particularly difficult mission, Cass finds a way to make the two of you put your difference aside

CW: enemies to lovers (ish), cocky! Cass, use of pumpkin/sweet pea/good girl, reader has female pronouns, rough sex, lots of strong language, fingering, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, hair pulling

haven’t done cass yet so figured I would do him for this one! will definitely think about doing a hanzo version in the future though. enjoy! (also I definitely did not steal some of the smut from a diff fic I wrote about Rooster oops)

“That’s three for me,” Cassidy smirks at you, standing over the omnics he’s just blown up. “How many did you get again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Cass.”

The man whistles at your harsh language, only making you angrier. Your missions together always went like this—him being cocky and insufferable, and you only getting angrier with him. 

The two of you had hated each other for as long as you could remember. Cole had too big of an ego for you to ever like him, and your resistance to what he dubbed his ‘irresistible charm’ only seemed to egg him on. It was a match made in hell. 

“Let’s just get the thumb drive, and get out, okay?”

“Whatever you say, sweet pea.”

You groan at the nickname and resist the urge to punch him in the arm. The halls of the old omnic facility you infiltrated are dark, mostly abandoned. It made the mission easier, you guess, since you didn’t have to deal with highly trained soldiers. 

You turn the corner to the hallway that’s supposed to lead to the control room. You don’t even notice the omnic waiting for you on the other side of the wall. Lucky for you, Cass does. 

He’s pulling out his revolver and placing two holes in it’s head before it can hurt you. You turn to face him with wide eyes. He just saved you—and now you’ll never be able to live this down. 

“That’s four,” he holds up four fingers. “You owe me, pumpkin.”

This time you almost smack him, but he dodges your attack. You decide it’s not worth it, and finish making your way to the control room. It’s empty inside, but you know as soon as you’re done downloading the schematics onto a thumb drive, the omnics will come running. 

You plug in the thumb drive to the centre console and begin the data transfer while Cass stands guard at the door. You don’t have to look to know he’s pacing—spurs clicking against the cement floor. He keeps spinning the chamber of his gun, loading and reloading his bullets. 

The noise is distracting, and you think about snapping at him for it, but you know you’re better off finishing your work first. It takes about ten minutes before you’re done, and right on cue, two omnics burst through the door. 

Cass flashes them before fanning the hammer on his gun. He shoots you a wink to which you roll your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

You sneak out of the data room and head back the way you came. There’s surprisingly no sight of the omnics, until you round the corner to see a massive group of them marching towards you. 

Cass grabs your arm and tugs you into a storage closet, pressing you against the door. His hand moves to cover your mouth, the other one next to your head on the door. 

“Not a word,” he mouths. “Let them pass.”

You shake your head in agreement, prying his hand off of your mouth. You narrow your eyes at the man towering over you. There’s a look in his amber eyes that tells you he’s enjoying this. 

You wait until the clunking of metal disappears before sneaking out of the closet. You have to hand it to him—his instincts are pretty sharp. The two of you make it out of the facility without a hitch, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep on the jet ride home. 

—

The briefing with Morrison when you get back is long, drawn out and boring. Cass is leaning back in his chair, boots on the table, muttering stuff to Reyes under his breath. 

You dig your elbow into his side and mutter a quick “shut up.”

He glares at you, but doesn’t say anything. You shiver under his gaze. He’s never looked at you like that before. You decide not to push him more. 

When you’re finally out of the briefing, your mind is set on one thing: a hot shower and a Gatorade. You grab the Gatorade out of the fridge and head back to your room. 

You’re in the process of changing when there’s a knock on the door. “Go away!” You shout, “I’m half naked!”

The door starts to open but you slam your body weight against it and hold it closed. “What the fuck! I’m naked!”

“Then get dressed, l/n!” Cassidy’s voice calls from the other side, “I needa word with ya!”

“Get lost!”

It goes quiet on the other side for a minute until the door is shoved open and you’re sent tumbling onto your ass. Cassidy closes the door behind him, standing above you with a scowl. 

“What the hell—“

He cuts you off, “no, what the hell to you! What’s with the fucking attitude, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. Through all of your antics, Cassidy had always been a light tease. Never straight up mean or angry like he was right now. 

You scramble to your bed, tugging a throw blanket over your half naked body. Your face heats up at the thought of him seeing you like this. 

“Fucking hitting me in the briefing room right in front of Reyes and Morrison! Telling me to shut up like I’m a lil kid or somethin’,” he stalks towards you. “And don’t even get me started on the mission.”

“We can talk about this when I’m fully clothed! For now, get the fuck out!”

He’s standing next to your bed, hovering above you now. “No, we’re doin’ this right now.”

You think he’s going to yell at you, ream you out, or god forbid, hit you. His hand moves, and you’re frozen in your seat. Before you know it, his hand is in your hair and he’s tugging you roughly towards him. 

His lips meet yours. He’s rough with you, using your hair as leverage to move you however he wants. He climbs on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him. 

Despite the situation and your distaste for him, you can feel yourself getting wetter as he kisses you. 

“You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?”

You can only nod. 

He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and nibbling. He laughs into your skin at the whimpers that leave your mouth. You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet and not moan out his name like you desperately want to. 

One of his calloused hands moved to your bra, cupping and pawing your tits through the fabric. You arch your back, desperate for more contact. 

“Cass—“ you moan before realizing what you said. 

He pulls away, a smirk on his face. “What was that?”

You roll your eyes and yank him by the collar back to you, flipping over so that you’re straddling his hips. You feel his hard on rubbing against your core. 

You breathe hard as he moves down to kiss your neck some more. You bite your lip and try to stop the moans that were slipping out.

He notices this, ripping your bra in half and pinching your bare nipples. 

You moan loudly and he pulls back with a grin. “That’s right,” he grunts, “say my fucking name.”

His lips move from your neck down to your collarbone, sucking the outline of it. He suddenly flips you onto your back, digging his knee into your clit.  You arch your back, bucking your hips to try and get more pressure. 

You can feel the vibrations against your chest as he laughs at how desperate you are. 

His lips move to your nipples, sucking big, sloppy marks onto the sensitive tips. Whenever you get too quiet for him, he pinches and twists them to get you moaning for him again. 

Your panties are soaked through, dripping down your legs and onto the sheets below. 

He pulls away, standing up and tugging off his shirt. Your mouth falls open. You’ve seen him without a shirt before but something about knowing that this time you get to touch him, get to admire him, made it even better. 

He unbuckles his jeans and tosses them onto the floor, revealing his black boxers and the hard bulge behind them. You bite your lip slightly and crawl across the bed towards him. 

You brush your hands against his waistband, eyes wide at the sheer size of his bulge. He has a smirk on his face, knowing you’re staring. 

You pull down his boxers and watch his cock spring free, standing hard in your face. You reach out and start to move your hand up and down his shaft. 

The smirk on his face is replaced by a look of pleasure. You’re the one smirking now, knowing that you hold the power here. You lick his tip and he bucks his hips, whining desperately. 

“Don’t tease me,” he warns.  

You keep smirking, swirling your tongue around his tip. He moves his hips once more, forcing his tip into your mouth. You gasp in surprise, allowing him to push more into your mouth. He’s smirking now. 

You grip his thighs and force more of him into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste of his cock. He completely fills your mouth, stretching your jaw to the point it’s almost painful. 

He lets out a series of moans, tangling his hand in your hair and using it to guide you up and down his shaft. You can feel yourself getting wetter at him fucking your face. 

Drool leaks down his shaft and down your cheeks, and as you look up at him, you can see something you haven’t quite seen on his face before. Admiration. 

“Shit,” he groans and pulls away from your mouth. 

He pulls you off of your knees and pushes you back onto your back, climbing on top of you. You know what’s coming and move your hips in anticipation. He slowly rubs his hand up and down your soaked panties. 

He laughs. “Looks like you’re excited.”

You whine as his fingers find their way into your panties and start to rub your clit. You buck your hips against the pads of his fingers, silently begging for more. 

He rips off your panties and slowly pushes one of his fingers inside of you. “Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he groans. 

You can only whimper and agree with him, thrusting your hips into his hands. He adds a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you more. 

You’re singing his name like a prayer, begging him for more. 

He pulls his fingers out with a squelching sound, the slick running down his hand. He suddenly puts them in his mouth and sucks it off. 

He positions himself above you, lining his hips up to your core and starting to push his cock inside of you. It’s way bigger than it felt in your mouth and you find yourself straining to take it all. 

He hasn’t even bottomed out yet when he stops. “Come on, can’t take a few more inches?”

Your face heats up and you desperately wrap your hands around his neck and hide your face on his shoulder. “Just shut up and fuck me, Cassidy.”

“If you say so.”

Suddenly his hips snap against yours, hitting you so hard it’s sure to leave a bruise. All the breath in your body is knocked out of you and you have no time to recover as he pulls out and slams into you again. 

You scream his name, his cock mercilessly stretching you, the hard length dragging up your sopping walls. 

“That’s it baby,” he groans, “scream my name. Let everyone in the fucking base know whose making you feel this good.”

You cry out even louder as his hand finds it’s way to your puffy clit, working you up to your peak. You pull him even closer to you, scratching your nails down his back. 

Both of you are lost in the heat of the moment, building up to the fireworks you both desperately want. 

Then, it hits. Your legs shake and you clench hard against Cassidy, holding him as close as possible. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs in your ear, “cum on my cock, cum on my fucking cock.”  

You whimper as your orgasm comes to an end while Cass keeps going, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer. In an instant, he pulls out quickly and spurts of his hot cum land on your stomach and the bottoms of your tits. 

You collapse onto your back, panting heavily. 

He sits up, leaning over the bed. For a minute, you think he’s going to leave. Then, he stands up and puts his boxers back on. He grabs his t-shirt and uses it to wipe his cum off of your stomach. 

“Thanks,” you pant. 

He nods and flops back onto the bed next to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Like it’s gonna be a pain to train tomorrow. Literally.”

And you were telling the truth. He’d fucked you so hard and so good, you know it’s gonna be a struggle to walk, let alone do training. 

“Maybe they’ll give you a sick day.”

“Yeah, cause ‘sorry Commander, my partner just fucked me so hard I can’t walk’, is a great excuse for a sick day,” you laugh. 

“Well,” he grins. “When you put it that way…”

You hit his arm gently, still breathless. He catches your arm when you go to pull away, using it to pull you into his chest. His skin is hot against yours, and slightly sticky from the sweat. 

“So, are we good, or do you need another attitude check?”

You roll your eyes. “I think we’re more than good,” you grab his hand and tighten his grip around your waist. “So just shut up and hold me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

masterlist

[onskepa]

Na'vi mating with a human [1 on 1] Headcannon.

Hello, so after the great success of my first head cannons, I thought I do another. This time, just One Na'vi with one human. If you have not read the Poly head canon, I have put the link to it. You don't have to read it if ya don't want to, I will try not to cross them both. This is just my thoughts and ideas. You guys are welcome to use them as head starts for a possible fic, or use as reference. But please do credit me.

----------------------

If there are ranks to go by in the Na'vi tribe, you have the leaders on the highest top, and second to them, or, one rank below them is true mighty warriors.

They are successful warriors, hunters, and teachers for the future generation.

The mighty warriors are just as trusted as the people's Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.

So, after a few years of being mateless, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik and decided to help him expand. By granting his permission to seek being the Na'vi people and see a potential human mate.

That is IF the might warriors choose a human for a mate. But none the less, a huge honor as only the two leaders can ever have a human for a mate.

To have a human mate can mean higher respect from the local Na'vi and as means to show where they lie in ranks of the tribe.

Of course having a human for a mate doesn't mean the mighty warrior can treat his human mate like a trophy to show off or treat them as bugs.

Having a human mate is the same as having a na'vi for a mate. To see them as an equal and to be just as loved and as well cherished.

Because not just any na'vi can have a human for a mate.

Because of massive differences, its not uncommon for some small clash to happen. Aside from language barrier, its a must for humans to learn the na'vi language so they can communicate and understand na'vi in general.

However, for the warrior's view on life, it changes drastically. From having the need to protect a whole clan, to the urge to protect their little mate.

They develop a soft spot for their human mate only. One they keep away from the other na'vi as means to protect their pride but also the privacy of their human mate.

As mate to a warrior, who returns with some form of cuts or bruises, it is essential for the human to learn at lease basics of healing. What better teacher than the Tsahik?

Being soft and easily breakable in the Pandora environment, the human mate would require extra protection. From being constantly watched over should they wish to explore the forest, down to how the home is to be full of soft and cushion materials.

Biologically speak, should na'vi and human have sexual activities, I don't think its easy, or possible to have a child between the two. Unless the human is an avatar then that is more than possible. but if it just a human only with no avatar body.

Planning for a future family may seem a impossibility, unless adoption or by the blessings of Ewya can they have kids.

That is all I got. dunno if I should make another, but again, I might add some stuff should an idea hit me. Whole knows. But I hope you all enjoyed it!

[jintaka-hane]

Jintaka Masterlist

Hello! I'm Jintaka, welcome to my blog!

I've always enjoyed writing—finding it cathartic in my life—but due to various circumstances, I had to take a break for years. Now, with a newfound obsession with One Piece, I feel the urge to start writing again, this time with a double challenge: finding time in my life—as I am a mom—and doing it in English, which is not my native language.

If you're up for reading some of my stories, thank you! 😘 A comment is always appreciated 💜 If you want to be @ tagged in my stories, just ask! 🤗 And I'm always open to answering asks or for a chat!

Please, if you are a minor, stay away from the 🔞 fics (marked as such)

I'm here to have fun, so please, be kind 🙏

Peace 🐦 and love 💕

Kid Pirates

Absurdly Cute (Kid x gn!reader / platonic) The World At Your Feet (Kid xf!reader) [NSFW] 🔞 The Eagle and the Hummingbird (Kid x gn!reader) Sleepless (Kid x gn!reader) Massive Crush (Kid x gn!reader) Truth or Dare (Killer x gn!reader) Our Lucky Night! (Kid and Killer x ... Fans? XD) The Date (Heat x f!reader) What does sharing a bed with Heat involve?

Someone Worried About You (Wire xf!reader)

Benn Beckman

Two Days (x f!reader) A trip to the onsen (x f!reader) [Request] Raisins (x f!reader) Want You Bad (x f!reader) The Night Off (Shanks x gn!reader x Beckman)

Dracule Mihawk

Laundry in Kuraigana (x f!reader) * Alternative ending I * Alternative ending ll

Mishanks

A Specific Preference Weaknesses

Others

Run, baby (don't) run (Cabaji x gn!reader) [NSFW] 🔞 Sir Crocodile dealing with the Marine Time Clock Machine Silly Dialogue (Paulie x f!reader) Put the goggles on (Paulie x f!reader / headcanons) Fight for her (Bogard x f!reader based on Ghost Rose series by @i-am-vita) Phoenix Sight (Marco x gn!reader) A Visit to the Infirmary (Hongo x f!reader)

.

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Absolutely you should add smut were all whores here

"Hooked"

Sorry been really busy and I am still very busy and ai hate it so much cause I don't have the energy to write anymore after a shit ton of work and sleepless nights just to meet the deadline. Anyways, I will try to do the requests, enjoy ✌️

Hope you lot understand, sorry. 😔

Warning: smut (you already know)

Idk what is in here cause I didn't proof read, hope the wait was worth it tho? Don't come at me, I just wanted to get a fic out cause I've been dry the last few weeks. Enjoy ✌️

I always noticed Arthur's brother, Charles, would always stare at me when he gets the chance, especially when visiting tutur at the f2 paddock. He wasn't really like this back then, but then again, I had a massive glow up, my ass is big, hair fluffy, face of an angel, and body sculpted by the Gods to be perfect for any man. During our earlier days, Charles never reqlly paid me any attention, apart from the occasional hi and hello, nothing. He would just walk past without even a glance. But now, it seemed that every chance he got, he would stare at me and sometimes bite his bottom lip and give me those "I'm gonna fuck you 'til you beg me to stop" eyes.

Like right now, I feel a pair of eyes burning through the back of my head as I walked with Arthur to the ferrari hospitality. Without looking back I already knew who it is, and being the brat I am, I decided to be a little shit and put on a show. Accidentally dropping my wallet as I pulled it out of the pocket of my jeans that hugs my ass way too tight. Making sure I bend over more than required to get the wallet, and continue walking as if nothing happened.

—

After Arthur won his first race of the season, I couldn't contain my excitement, I jumped on him my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck and giving him little kisses on his cheeks.

"Oh my god, I'm so proud of you tutur."

I basically shouted at him so he could hear me over the noise of his team celebrating.

"Merci, couldn't done it without you flaunting your ass at my brother the whole day."

He said with a laugh as he urged me to get off him. He looked behind me and smacked my ass and laughing harder as I let out a small squeak.

"Looks like someone wants to celebrate with you."

He said close to my ear as he turned me around only to be met by Charles gaze that had a glint of something. I looked up at him with innocent eyes.

"Hi."

I said as I turned back around.

"I will spoon feed you your own shit."

I said to Arthur, trying to sound menacing but he just laughed.

"Arturooo!"

Charles said as he hugged Arthur.

"Can I borrow y/n for a moment?"

"Hehe just return him before the party."

"Of course."

"Huh? D-don't I get a say in this??"

I asked confused as Arthur just laughed as Charles dragged me somewhere.

"W-where are we going? And what exactly d-do you need me for?"

I asked nervously as his gripped tightened.

"I had a shitty race unlike Arthur, and I need you to help me with it."

He said nonchalantly as we arrived at his motor home, he pushed me in before getting in himself, he locked the door.

"A-and h-how wou-"

I couldn't finish my sentence as he pulled me to him and attached his lips to mine, kissing desperately as if it was his last day on earth. He pushed me against the door his hands tapped my thighs, urging me to jump. I obeyed and jumped, his strong arms holding me up as my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands that were feelings his biceps now pulling at his hair and clawing on his back, drawing groans from him. Biting and licking my bottom lip his gripped tightened on my thighs causing me to moan against his lips. His tounge entering my mouth with no warning, our tounges now dancing a ballad of groans and moans. Our kiss getting more desperate and sloppy by the second due to the lack of oxygen catching up to us. We pulled from each other, foreheads resting against the other and thin string of saliva attaching our lips.

"Let's go to my hotel room, it's better."

He said between heavy breathed as he put me down, but I leaned on him heavily almost falling as my legs seemingly turn to jelly.

"I didn't know you liked me?"

I asked surprised.

"You're the only outlet available."

He said with a laugh.

"But you might just be the best one yet."

—

As we arrived in his hotel room, he locked the door and put the do not disturb sign on the outside knob.

"What n-"

He attacked my lips again before I could finish my sentence.

"Now, you're going to be a good boy and listen and do everything I tell you."

He said as he pulled back, his hands on my cheeks.

"O-okay."

"Good, now get on the bed and undress for me."

I obeyed, getting on the bed and undressing 'til I'm naked.

"You were always my favourite, y/n."

"Huh?"

"Among all of Arthur's friends, you were always my favourite, did you know that?"

He asked as he got on top of me now only in his boxers. He body looked heavenly, his abs, his biceps, everything made me want to go feral. To lick his muscles after a gym session or after racing, to taste the saltiness of his sweat against tounge. To see him breathing heavily as he looks at me with tired eyes, to hear him say my name in a breathy whisper.

My thoughts got cut off by his mouth on my neck, kissing, biting and licking, leaving marks.

"I always thought you'd taste good. Addicting."

He mumbled against my neck, as his actions became rougher I began to squirm, trying to push him off, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

"Ngh~ mhmmm~ no, s-stop. Please."

"I would stop, amour, but your moans decieve you. Do you really want me to stop?"

He asked as he began to pull away but not before biting hard.

"Mmm~ ngha n-no."

I said as my squirming slowed down, missing his mouth on my neck, missing his bites I pulled at his neck.

"You can try all you want, you won't win, y/n."

He said is a breathy voice as he continued to resist my pull.

"I'm going to fuck you raw, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He whisper against my ear as he bit it.

"Y-yes."

"Good boy."

He began to remove his boxers, I looked down excited to see what I would need to fit in. My eyes widened and I let out an involuntary moan as I saw his size. Very thick, with prominent veins and atleast 9 inches.

"Y-you're gonna kill me."

I said, now afraid of what would happen once the behemoth is burried in me.

"You can take it, and you will."

He said with a laugh as he spread my legs even more and grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer. He covered his fingers with the lube and putting one in me slowly, drawing moans from me. A second one went in and he started scissoring, the burning sensation slowly disappearing as he put in a third.

"Please, n-need you."

I said sounding desperate with my eyes closed and biting my lip.

"Are you sure?"

He asked sounding worried.

"Y-yes, f-fuck me, please."

I said as I began to squirm.

"Fine."

He covered his cock in obscene amounts of lube, hopefully enough. He got on top of me as he lined his cock with my hole, the head slowly going him, the burning, stretching sensation coming back worse. My hands fly to his back, pulling him to lay on me and clawing at him. He groaned as he felt the pain on his back and he slowly went deeper, we were both our of breathe now and he wasn't even half in.

"F-fuck, my self controll is not that strong, I'm seconds away from just fuck, just slamming into you."

He said against my ear, hot breathes fanning over.

"I-i-i don't m-mmmind."

I said with a chuckled as my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in further.

"You m-make me lose myself. Fuck"

He slammed into me without any more warning, I scream at the top of my lungs. He groaned as my clawing got more erratic, I felt something sticky on my fingers as I continued clawing. His groans became more frequent as he pulled back slowly and ramming back in.

"F-fuck, ngha."

He groaned as he bit my neck hard, leaving bite marks.

"P-please, f-fuck."

I couldn't finish a sentence nor a single thought as my mind short malfunctioned. Tears flowed freely from my eyes and he stayed still for a bit, catching his breath.

"You okay?"

He whispered in my ear.

"Mmmngh"

"I'll say, you're fine then."

He said with a laugh as he started to pull out, and go back in slowly. Slowly gaining more force and speed until he was just ramming into me, the bed squeaking after every thrust. He head burried in my neck, biting and leaving my, his hands exploring the sides of my body. My hands still clawing at his back, earning a groawn each time. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"I don't w-we can make it f-for Arthur's p-party."

He said with a breathy chuckle as his assault on my ass did not ease a bit.

"Mmngg mmm ngh"

I could not form coherent words or anything, my mind completely blank apart from him, the feeling of him, the taste of him every about him. My body is tired, but he doesn't seem the least bit tired.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum."

He groans as his pace became more erratic, sweat dropping from his hair onto the sheets as he bit my neck, earning a moan from me. Our bodies sliding past the other. His hair sticking to his forehead, his back now slippery, my hands slide down, struggling to hold on. He let out small hisses of pain, due to the sweat coming in contact with the marks on his back.

"F-fuuuck"

He came deep inside me, burrying his face on my neck and biting roughly, with the last amount of energy I had left, my body began squirming trying to push him away, but he was much stronger he held my hands down and grinded his him against my, drawing out the pleasure. I felt his cum dripping out of my hole while he's still inside. By this time I already came more than 4 times, the feel of his cock pulsing inside me brought me unfathomable amounts of pleasure, knowing I'm the one he's with the one he's fucking.

"We need to do this again."

"Mmm"

"You do know, when I said again, I mean right now, right?"

He said with a laugh as his cock stayed hard inside me, after a few seconds he began to move again. Starting slow, my mind numb and body tired I couldn't do anything but let him, as he continued biting and licking my neck, my hand going up to his hair and stroking it.

"Y-you can say no if you don't want to anymore."

I don't what came over me, but my energy suddenyl came back after his words.

"You won't last as long as me, Leclerc."

I pushed him off me and made him lay on the bed as I began to ride him.

"You can try, but you won't succeed."

I said as I leaned down and made my marks on him.

"We both know, you just want to fuck me, but I'll have you hooked."

Idk what I wrote, cause half of this shit didnt get save so I had to rewrite, hope you enjoyed it ✌️

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Sun's Out, Guns Out

Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader • Rating: PG Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Anselm's purposefully got the wrong idea.

A/N: I simply must give a massive shout out to @reallyrallyauthor and their stunning Anselm fics which haunt me every day and night. They have rewired my brain.

Warnings: Anselm being a little shit, fluff, so many pet names oh my god, swearing, reader is wearing a swimsuit, kisses, typos, my terrible German, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 771

“Anselm,” His name comes out a little exasperatedly, which isn’t your intention. “This…” You gesture to him, “This is not what I meant.” 

He quirks his eyebrow up at you, “How so meine Süße?” My sweet.

You give him a look and he smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You cross your arms, shifting your weight to your left leg. “You can’t wear this on the beach.”

He looks down at himself for a moment, as if he is seeing his body for the first time before he meets your eyes. Not that you can tell through his dark circle sunglasses. 

“I’m afraid you’re misinformed, meine Hase, weil ich das trage.” My bunny, because I am wearing this.

“Anselm.” You say, unimpressed and his grin widens- the living personification of the Cheshire cat. 

“My love, I don’t see the problem.” He says lightly, practically turning the words into poetry with the rhythm of his voice. 

“Sun’s out, guns out. Means your arms, and,” you raise your hand at the eager look in his eyes, cutting him short, “Arms, as in these,” you poke his biceps, “not weapons arms, not guns.”

“But my dear,” he takes hold of your hand, peppering kisses to your knuckles, “My arms are out.” 

You glare. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” 

“And you love me for it.” He gives you that soft expression that makes you weak at the knees. 

“I don’t think I do.”

“You wound me, my dove.” He kisses your wrist, keeping his eyes trained on yours. 

You shake your head, trying to keep a stern look on your face. “You can’t wear those guns to the beach.” 

The guns in question where in elabourate hosters across his chest and shoulders that you were sure where originally a harness of some sort. The weapons themselves were ornate, practically antiques, and looked like some sort of flintlock pistols. The whole outfit, a pair of black speedos that were a fraction too tight and a pair of khaki green wellington boots (he did not want to get sand on his feet or in his shoes) combined with the guns was… interesting.

He grins, licking his bottom lip. “Yes, I can.” 

“It’s a beach-”

“A private one, we’re the only ones here.” 

You pull an unimpressed face and gesture a little more dramatically than you need to at his bodyguards. 

He places another kiss to your wrist, “They count as ‘the only ones’...” The guards make an obvious effort to not look anywhere near either of you, part of you feels sorry for them, in their three piece suits and cuff links in the heat, their smart dress shoes sinking into the sand.

 “Besides,” he pulls you gently, urging you closer to him. “They’re not loaded.”

“Then what are they for?” You say exasperatedly.

“Decoration, my love.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. “You’re going to go swimming with-”

He shakes his head, “I’m not going to go swimming, I am going to sit under the large umbrella Sebastian will put up and relax.” 

“Anselm.”

“My leg, my beloved,” he gives you the puppy dog eyes, rubbing his brace. 

You tut, “The salt water will do you good.”

“The metal will rust.” He pouts.

“You didn’t have to wear the metal one, and besides, I asked Angelo to bring your cane.” 

He opens his mouth to speak.

“Not that one.”

Anselm smiles and closes his mouth dramatically, but you don’t miss the little glare he gives Angelo.

“Hey, none of that. I asked Angelo and he just did as I requested.” 

“Hmm,” he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I do love when you get all bossy Bӓrchen.” He nuzzles into your neck, pressing light kisses to your pulse point. “Makes me want to take you right here.”

“You’ll definitely get sand in places you don’t want.” 

“Oh, I just don’t want sand in my shoes, I am quite happy to feel it in more intimate places.” He nips lightly at your skin and you shiver. 

“You’re coming in the water with me.” You press, but your voice isn’t very demanding. 

“Of course, my love.” He kisses lower, trailing his lips to your collarbone. 

“And you’re taking the guns off.” 

“Of course, my love.” He kisses the top of your chest, trailing his tongue along the edge of your swimsuit. “But you’re going to be talking this off too.” He lightly dips his fingers under the material at your hip, snapping back against your skin with a smile.  

“Of course,” you say, saccharinely sweet, “my love.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[onyourhyuck]

Paint Me Naked. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “Paint Me Naked, Huang Renjun.”

— Summary: You’re stuck doing body paint with Huang Renjun and it leads to something more than getting your body painted.

— Genre: SMUT MINORS DNI. Relationship Established. Body painting. Painter!huangrenjun trope. I love painter Renjun sm. lots of dirty talk. Cum play(?) mention of teasing and Renjun has a massive size kink and bulging kink.

— Notes: I am in my Renjun smut fic era fr.

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You weren’t sure how you ended up on top of Renjun while he was down on his back flatly laying there. He happened to slip earlier and as he slipped on the slippery flooring he took you down with him and now you’re both covered in paint as much as possible.

You and Renjun were planning to do some body painting anywhere but not like this. Your bodies are so close together you can’t remember the time when you were this up close, heck you and Renjun barely even know each other.

But you cannot lie. There is an undeniable amount of attraction between you and him.

Renjun watches your face turn into shock when a wave of consciousness strikes back bringing you to reality to now realise that you’re on top of him. With your white tank top stained with red and purple paint dripping on it. Dots of yellow and blue. You had a gentle streak of green on your left cheek because when you fell Renjun’s paint brush so happens to have touched your face when it fell out of his hand later on.

All the painter could do was watch you momentarily through the connecting eye contact your eyes made and he tried so hard not to look down at your revealing cleavage that is literally right there; and he cannot control his eye sight not to stare into your breasts. Because after all the urge was stronger than his willpower.

He thought you might be doing this on purpose, messing about and purposely fell on top of him like this.

But the shocked expression on your face told him otherwise that this might be a mild accident and it just so happened to yourself.

“Oh god — I’m so sorry Renjun.” You announce finally. Your voice has a underlying purpose of feeling completely stunned and off guard. You sit up now letting your weight becoming off the other painter. Renjun could finally sense an ability to breathe again.

It’s not like he could breathe when you were so close on top of him. It was difficult to even control where his eyes landed!

You stand up once again this time looking at your own clothes. They were stained everywhere from all sorts of different colouring paints you and Renjun got. Now they are all spilled on the black plastic surface you covered the flooring with because you know how painting goes; it gets messy real quick.

As you look over Renjun finally sits up slowly and you could see his Adam apples finally release the tension. It seems like you being on top of him shocked him quite a lot and he swallows thickly. God you looked kind of irresistible for a moment, to him, he never once thought you being on top would make him so flustered beyond belief.

“Babes,” you slowly call him out seeing he was kind of quiet, actually way too quiet, usually he would’ve said something to you by now. It looks like he’s in a deep trancing thought.

He looks up when you call out his name like as if you were a siren leading him to become alert when you call him out.

You turn your body fully towards him as you keep the distance between you mild but soon you drop your shirt off and revealing yourself in a bra only. Renjun’s eyes widen and he feels his adam’s apple go and tense up again like he lost the battle to speak again. But this time his deep voice does come out, rather poorly.

“Y/n oh my god put your shirt back on.” Renjun remarks back off guard by your boldness. He looks away to the side as he covers the sight of you with his palm stretching out to block you.

You had an idea. An idea that could probably get you both in trouble if your boss comes and sees you both not working on the next client. But you can’t help but find yourself wanting to do this.

To try body painting on yourself.

“Paint Me Naked, Huang Renjun.” You tell him as if it’s a demand. As if it’s a demand from an customer.

He couldn’t believe if you were serious for a moment because if you weren’t this joke wasn’t going anywhere on the funny side of the world. He looks again at your face trying to avoid looking at your breasts that were so tempting to stare at — you were really making this difficult.

“You want me to paint you naked, Y/n?” He repeats after you finding this situation to be very confusing and you look at him nodding directly. You were so serious.

You trail looking at your clothes. “My outfit is ruined by the paint. We don’t have a client until later on. So why don’t you just paint my body while naked?”

He grumbles trying to think of a protest against your ideas and actions but he found himself pulling away his hands and facing you now properly.

He sighs. “Fine but only until our next client comes.” You nod in response understanding your sense of work duty with him and coming forward. Renjun gives you moment to sit somewhere on the prop items where you would pick a lounging couch to be suitable to your own position and somehow Renjun wasn’t surprised when you laid down.

It was not a question but you were indeed beautiful like this and when the time came off for you to strip off your bra Renjun thickly swallows as he watches your breasts perk up at the coldness of the room. He could sense the way your body hitch with goosebumps and you didn’t let it bother you too much; you were distracted with the way Renjun was actually staring down at your chest. Like it’s his first time seeing breasts before.

You find it mildly amusing. “Hello? My eyes are up here babes.” You let out as a soft joke to hit the boy with a hint that you need him to start body painting. Renjun clears his voice as he trails. “I’ve not painted anyone naked before.” He adds. “Yet.”

You sheepishly made a smirk on your face as you saw him becoming easily distracted by this and you know how much it must be crazy for him right now. Body painting doesn’t involve clients getting full on naked. Usually they keep the bra and the panties on. But you’re here in front of him with your breasts out looking so perfect, it’s killing him not to get a hard one between his legs now.

He grows red on his face quickly when he saw the painting dripping down on your cleavage and then your nipples covered by the red paint. He found it to be somehow very arousing; it’s the way the colour compliments your soft skin. You’re shining as if you were a greek statue. And he loves how your body rolls were shaped. He could wish to be squeezed by them and your curvy silhouette.

The paint was cold, surprisingly, it was slightly thick but awfully cold compared to your scorching body temperature of your body. You holt at every inch the paint brush slowly brushes on your skin letting the body paint cover your figure. And you tried to not make it seem obvious how cold it was.

But Renjun saw right through you. “Is it cold Y/n?” He asked with a wide smirk as he saw you look down as he asked you. “A little. I never thought paint was that cold.”

“It’s definitely contrasting how hot you look right now,” The man with the tone split hair told you in a very low octave tone as he was pressing his hands on your chest. The palms were covered with the paint and he let his hand prints out of paint stick on your breasts as he gently squeezed it. And it sends shockwaves in your body waving in sudden pleasure from the squish. “Renjun!” You yelp letting your eyes widen.

He couldn’t help it and he lets your breasts go. “What? You can’t expect me not want to grab onto them when they’re out in the open like that.” Renjun groans slightly.

He was very turned on by you and it’s all your fault.

I mean his girlfriend is literally laying on the couch half naked and they’re letting him paint their body like this in the open — what’s not to get hard about this?

Renjun just can’t believe you’re asking him to do this. He’s still very much surprised. You both are usually professional at your workplace. You don’t even act like boyfriend-girlfriend when you work because you don’t want the boss to complain; but now you’re being yourself with him. You’re being his girlfriend. And you know damn well he can’t act like this in during work.

You saw that your boyfriend was definitely tempted and he was going through a conflict between being professional and staying that way or being your boyfriend and ending up pleasuring you. So you could only urge him and tease him, knowing you were torturing him.

“You know,” you say singing in your sweet lingering voice that makes his ears stand up and run to you every time. “You could… do something a little more than just body paint me.”

“Are you asking me to fuck you?” Renjun said in disbelief but he saw the way your smile was there and he cannot help but say screw it.

“Fuck it.”

Renjun stands up taking off the hoodie and throwing it across the workplace room. He takes off the pants and crawls over to the lounging chair which you let out a string giggles because you now saw how eager your boyfriend drops the professionalism act and finally got over to you pulling your body closer in kissing you deeply. Letting his dexterous tongue exploring your mouth letting the savouring pleasure and taste of you on his mouth last longer. You brush your fingers through the two toned long hair tugging on his locks at the back.

You want to say to him it took you long enough. You just love the way he works his hands on your body it’s like he’s so good with them, you’d guess being a body painter it makes sense why he’s so good at touching you all round like you’re a worshipping holy grimoire relic that should be held in such high regards. He treats you like you’re a queen and it’s what makes you feel so loved from Renjun when he’s being like this.

Kissing your shoulders down and then meeting your breasts he pulls them out with his teeth. Your nipples were erected from the slightest of perks he pulls on your skin and the breasts were covered with the body paint still. Some were smudged off because he will be brushing his face on them.

You were soon pulled across to his lap as he sat up on the lounging chair. You were already groaning for him to take you because you were desperate for the pleasure now. You really need him now. But Renjun wants to play with you some more before that can happen.

Tracing those kisses on your shoulder you found your fingers taking a deep home in his beautiful thick hair. And then a sudden grope to your ass with his dainty long hands grab making you sigh into the air.

He leaves kisses down to your cleavage smelling the body paint on your skin like it’s your scented perfume. And then you find yourself letting out a high pitch yelp hitching on the middle of your throat when your boyfriend spanks your right ass cheek.

You groan. “What was that for?”

Renjun smirks against your nape. Pulling the face away from your body to look up at you. “That’s for not being able to control yourself when we are at work.”

You let your eyes roll over at him. “Oh please… I think you’re enjoying this a lot more than I.”

He grins at your words. Maybe he is. But he doesn’t need to have you know that he was enjoying you acting out a lot more today at your workplace shared. And now he pulls you down where the spilled paint was on the floor he lets your bodies cover in them and you let out hushed sighs at the coldness of the paints running on your skin. Somehow you loved how hot your boyfriend’s body was compared to the running paint that’s on his skin and your skin staining it so beautifully.

He’s not just fucking you now. He’s creating art with you. With your body and with his creative artistic mind.

You just couldn’t take it anymore the lacking of his cock was driving you absolutely mad and he didn’t even need to have an answer for you, he simply brushes the tip of his cock inside your bare pussy and let’s you take his shape slowly. It was his eyes that casually relax at the size of your tiny self taking in his large cock but the curves on your body and the thickness of his thighs covering his waist entirely drove his mind into a relapse of overload pleasure.

He likes that you’re so tiny on the inside but on the outside you have the most perfect curves. You were perfection and crafted with absolutely the best materials the world can offer because you’re the only woman that can make his heart flutter so wide and open.

He truly could wish to recreate more art with you. Because you’re art itself. His muse. His everything that inspires him and now you’re inspiring him with the pleasure factor your body has done to him. His cock feels so warm and he couldn’t put this to words of how much he’s missed this feeling being inside you so deep.

Your eyes fell down into a half lidded state. You were so overjoyed with pleasure that Renjun rams into your hips pushing your skin to skin to start slapping one another. The room echos in your noises you let out. It feels like a musical awakening from your own imagination. The mix between the way your boyfriend dug the fingernails on your skin across like you were a blank canvas. Or the way his tongue creates circles on your skin as if you were a building he was working on creating.

You were everything he could ever dream to ask.

“You know, next time we should have sex in the clay workshop.” Your voice pants out. You could just imagine how much you’d be turned on. Renjun found you so shameless right now but he didn’t disagree with the idea.

He chuckles against your mouth ghosting over it. “ Maybe next time we will get caught.” He teased and you whine at the idea.

“Maybe they shouldn’t interrupt loving couples who are having a loving moment.”

Your lips press against Renjun’s mouth once more pulling him into a sensual dream. Your kisses felt like a blissful touch he couldn’t resist. The skin slapping continues and so does Renjun dragging his hand over your stomach loving the bulge his dick deep inside you created. It feels like a mountain is moving within and inside you and it only pushed him on through the edge.

You whine as you feel his throbbing cock itch and itch more and more which shows he is so close and now you hurriedly tug on his arms pulling his attention to be on you again.

“Cum on me.” You said with an urge. “Paint me naked, Huang Renjun.”

It’s the way you said it with such passion that leaves Renjun instantly pulling out of your body positioning you on the floor where he then leans his perfect shots on your beautiful stretching stomach. You couldn’t help but fall in love with how warm his bodily liquid feels. It feels so much better than the body paint.

You weakly hum against your boyfriend as he was panting out those heaven ascending groans. You swore you loved seeing him bite down on his bottom lips when he was wanking his cock to paint you white with his remaining cum threatening to release.

He hears you remark sweetly but you were so devious. “You should really paint my body more.”

Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows up at you leaning closer as he looks down at your eyes and then to your rosey lips. “Oh yeah? I think I can do a second round?”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank you. Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <33

[1800-fight-me]

As you wish

Aemond Targaryen x Female!reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Cursing, making out, but it’s mostly fluff 

Word count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You’re stuck in an inn with Aemond, and there’s only one bed. Close quarters force unexpected vulnerabilities and confessions from you both. 

Author’s note: So I accidentally became the ring leader of the Aemond besties all writing Aemond fics with the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope and it’s been glorious reading everyone’s fics!!!! Here’s mine! I really hope y’all like it! 

P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! My askbox and taglist are always open! Come interact with me! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Aemond Masterlist

“You have got to be kidding me,” you said to the innkeeper as you stared at him dumbfounded. 

The gruff portly man glared at you. 

“I am not kidding, my lady, we only have one room available tonight and there is only one bed,” he said. 

“Is there another inn here in this town?” you asked and you pleaded to the gods that the answer would be yes. 

He shook his head, clearly annoyed with you. 

“If you don’t want the room you are more than welcome to sleep outside,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“There’s a fucking hailstorm,” you deadpanned. 

He shrugged. 

“We’ll take the room,” you said begrudgingly. 

He nodded and handed the key over to you and you passed him the necessary payment, which was massively overpriced. 

Aemond walked into the inn with his hood over his head and you sighed as he walked over to you. 

“I’ll show you to your room,” the innkeeper said, after a weary glance at Aemond due to his rugged appearance, and Aemond sent you a questioning look. 

The two of you followed him up multiple flights of stairs. 

“Room?” he asked you quietly. 

“There’s only one left,” you grumbled. 

He pressed his lips together and nodded. 

Gods, he was so annoying sometimes. Always bearing hardships and inconveniences with a proper attitude while you wanted to whine and complain. If you did it would surely fall on deaf ears as Aemond couldn’t care less about comfort if duty was required. 

The innkeeper gestured to the door. He took the key from your hand, unlocked it, swung the door open, and handed the key back to you. 

“Enjoy,” he said, like he didn’t particularly care if you and Aemond enjoyed it or not, then he turned on his heel and left. 

You stepped into the room and stopped short. 

“Fucking hell,” you groaned. 

Aemond placed a hand on your lower back and nudged you forward so he could also step into the room, though the ceiling was so low he had to duck and couldn’t stand straight. He shut and locked the door behind you. 

It was less of a room and more of an attic with a small bed. Though the bed did take up the majority of the space, the only other furniture was one rickety chair in front of the fire. 

At least there was a fireplace that warmed the room. 

You started to giggle and he shot you another questioning look. 

“I just, I fucking hate the north,” you said between laughs. 

“Hm.” 

He sat on the chair, surely so he wouldn’t have to duck his head any longer. 

You sighed. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, my lady, I shall sleep on the floor and you-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aemond. There is not even enough floor for you to lay on. We will have to share the bed,” you said and your voice sounded nervous by the end of your statement. 

He sighed again.

“If you wish.” 

You scoffed. “This is not what I wish for. What I wish for is to not have been sent on this stupid diplomatic errand to the stupid north. What I wish is to not reek of your dragon. What I wish is to not be soaking wet and cold. What I wish is-” 

“To not be stuck with me? It must be such a burden to be forced to put up with me each day of this tedious journey,” he sneered. 

“Ugh! You are so infuriating! Must you twist everything I say?” 

You ignored the urge to pick up a pillow and either scream into it or throw it at his annoyingly gorgeous face. 

“Hm.” 

He turned his head to look at the fire. 

“That’s all you have to say?” you demanded. 

He did not respond and you sighed. 

“I do not despise you like you think,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable. 

“You just find me irritating?” 

He glanced at you, his beautiful lips pursed together. 

You laughed softly. “It is like you are trying to irritate me at times, why is that so?” 

He swallowed. 

“Perhaps it would simply be easier if you were to despise me,” he admitted in a gentle tone. 

“Easier, how?” you questioned as you sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and tried to avoid getting it any dirtier by your soaked clothes than it already appeared. 

Suddenly air was hard to get into your lungs as you waited for his response. 

He looked over at you and his gaze had your heart pounding, but he shook his head slightly and turned back to the fire. 

“It is late, we should rest so we can rise early tomorrow and continue on our journey,” was his only response. 

You bit your lip as you looked down at the floor, disappointed. 

You nodded. 

“Fine, I’m going to undress then, don’t turn around,” you ordered. 

“As you wish,” was his gentle reply. 

You removed your cloak and hung it on the hook by the door. 

Then you unlaced your boots and tugged them off and placed them by the door as well. 

“Aemond?” you asked and your voice trembled. 

“Yes?” he did not turn as he spoke, still dutifully following your order. 

“Did you bring the bag of our clothes?” 

“No, they were soaked through as well.” 

You took a shuddering breath and continued to relieve yourself of your clothes until you were down to your underthings. 

Luckily due to all the layers you had on, they were not too damp and would have to suffice, for surely you would not lie in a bed with the prince completely unclothed. 

You hung up your clothes then slipped under the covers of the bed and laid down. 

“It’s okay for you to look now,” you said. 

He glanced over at you and you thought you saw something flicker in his eye, something akin to ravenous want, but he blinked and it was gone. 

“I can- I can turn over so you can prepare yourself as well,” you said and you rolled over onto your side so you faced away from him. 

You could feel him look at you for long lingering moments, then you could hear the sound of him undressing. 

As the seconds passed it was increasingly difficult to not turn your head and glance over at the object of your desire and ire as he removed his clothing. 

The bed dipped behind you and you finally turned over after it was clear he had settled. 

You’d never seen his bare chest before and your breath quickened as you took in the corded muscles in his chest and arms, surely his torso looked the same, if only the blankets were a bit lower. 

“My eye is up here,” he remarked dryly. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you met his gaze. 

His hair was still damp, but no longer tied back and it fell beautifully around him. 

“Are you going to wear that to sleep? Surely it would be uncomfortable,” you said gently as you raised your hand to his eyepatch. 

He took a shaky breath. 

“I did not wish to disturb your sensibilities any more this evening,” he said and there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in his words. 

“Though I might have expressed discontent with this evening, that is not due to you, my prince. I- Your face could never disturb me,” you whispered as your fingers touched the strap of the eyepatch. 

He licked his lips but then nodded, giving you consent to pull it off. 

His eye never left your face as you stared at the sapphire that took the place where his other eye should be and the scar that crossed his brow and cheek. 

“It is beautiful,” you said in awe. 

“Do not lie-”

“I would never,” you said firmly. 

He nodded, your passion clearly started to cut through his insecurities. 

“If there was anyone I would be stuck in a grubby inn with, it would be you. Not many women get to say they spent the evening with a man as gentlemanly and handsome as you,” you said sincerely. 

He looked away and you could have sworn that his cheeks began to be tinged with pink. 

“I have always enjoyed your presence as well, my lady. Even when I tease you so,” he admitted and you giggled. 

“Perhaps we should sleep now,” he said. 

“Perhaps we should,” you agreed, though you did not see how you could possibly sleep with him so close. 

The bed was hardly large enough for you to pretend he was not there. 

You chose to turn over onto your other side to face away from him. 

You tried to think of very innocent thoughts, and not think about the half naked prince that lay behind you, but it proved to be an extremely difficult task. 

He moved and his skin brushed against yours. 

“Your shivering is shaking the bed,” he said dryly after several long minutes of silence. 

“I am cold,” you said, though your voice sounded something close to a whine. 

He sighed and then shifted in the bed. 

His strong arm wrapped around your middle and yanked you back into his chest. 

You squeaked in surprise but then had to hold back a groan as you sunk into his warmth. 

“How are you so warm?” you asked. 

His large hand rubbed up and down your arm in an attempt to increase your body heat. 

With his front pressed to your back, and his legs curled up with yours, you could feel every muscled contour of his body on yours. 

You had to remind yourself to breathe. 

“They say dragon riders have fire in their veins to withstand the cold of the air as they ride,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. 

Fucking Targaryens, though you wouldn’t mind if this Targaryen- no, you chastised yourself, you would not think such innappropriate things while in such a compromising situation. 

“Just relax,” he murmured and your shivers finally abated. 

His fingers then began to trace gentle patterns on the bare skin of your stomach. 

You clenched your thighs together. 

His fingers wandered, then he began to run his hand up and down your side, caressing your thigh and hip. 

You were suddenly burning up as he filled you with his fire with gentle touches. 

“I regret that this endeavor has not been ideal and has had many more hardships than anticipated. Though it has not been all bad, has it?” his voice was low and deep as he whispered to you. 

“N-no it has not been all bad,” you stuttered out as you thought of the hours you’d spent on dragon back with the prince’s strong arms around you. 

You could feel his chest rise and fall against your back as he took a deep breath. 

“Truthfully, my lady, I requested that you join me on this diplomatic trip,” he confessed. 

“You did?” you were confused, for you always thought he teased you due to his annoyance at your presence. 

You tried to turn over to look at him but he held you tight and prevented you from moving. 

“Aemond,” you protested softly. 

“We are to be betrothed,” he said and your protests died on your tongue. 

You realized it must be easier for him to share these things with you without having to look you in the eyes. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” he asked and clearly wished for more of a response from you. 

“I- I did not know,” you said shyly. 

A lock of his hair fell over your shoulder and across your chest. You began to run your fingers through it as you listened to him, unable to withstand the temptation. 

“My mother told me of it only recently. I thought this trip might be a good opportunity for us to spend some time together and get to know one another a bit better,” he said as his fingers resumed their patterns on your skin. 

“Oh,” you said again, completely at a loss for words. 

“Is that something you would desire? To be wed to me?” he asked tentatively. 

How do you tell him that he’s the sole subject of all your desires and fantasies? How do you tell him that you’ve spent hours upon hours thinking about him and wondering what his lips would feel like against yours? How do you tell him that all the frustration you’ve ever felt towards him is truly from feeling desperate that you would never be able to be his? 

“I-Is it something you desire?” you asked nervously.

He chuckled softly, “It is, if it would please you.” 

You placed your hand over his and intertwined your fingers. 

“My desires have always centered around you, and only you,” you confessed and he gripped your thigh, where his hand lay. 

“Perhaps that is why it has always been easier for us to both play roles in which we could not stand one another, for mine have always focused on you as well.” 

This time as you attempted to turn around, he let you. 

“Aemond, kiss me” you whispered as you rested your hand on his bare chest. 

“As you wish,” he murmured as he finally pressed his soft perfect lips to yours. 

He kissed you, gently and tenderly. 

He pulled back enough to allow you to breathe before he kissed you again, and this time as his lips moved against yours there was a heat, a hunger, as he placed a hand on your cheek and claimed your mouth. 

His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, and as you opened up for him you whimpered softly as his tongue brushed against yours. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed you deeply and laid you back as he moved with you, his chest now pressed on top of yours. 

You clung to him and felt yourself clench as he groaned into your mouth at the taste of you. 

He pulled back, breathing heavily, and you gripped at his arms. 

“We should stop,” he breathed out, though it was clear that was not his wish. 

“Do not stop,” you begged and pulled his lips to yours once again. 

He groaned your name and you tugged at him, until he was fully on top of you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You were able to feel the evidence of his arousal and heat licked up your spine. 

His lips trailed across your jaw and down your throat as he tilted your head with a hand on the back of your neck. His other hand gripped your waist and you relished in the feeling of his large hands on your body. 

“I have often dreamed of this,” you gasped. 

“As have I.”

He moaned and bit down on the pulse point of your neck, causing you to gasp in pleasure. 

“Aemond,” you whimpered, “I want you.” 

His lips returned to yours and he kissed you, this time gently, as he slowed the pace. He kissed you once more before he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I fear if we continue I will not be able to control myself,” he whispered as he nudged his nose against yours. 

You sighed, frustrated that he was such an honorable man. 

He smirked and kissed you once more. 

“I promise you that when we are wed I shall fulfill your every desire.” 

You whined and pressed a kiss to his jaw. 

“Until then, however, I will not take your maidenhood, I-”

“It is not taking if it is freely given. I want you. I want to be yours, I always have.” 

He groaned your name and shook his head. His beautifully curved lips pressed against yours once again and as you sunk into it, he pulled back again. 

“I am trying to be honorable and you are making it very fucking difficult.” 

You pressed your lips together to try to stop yourself from giggling. You were unsuccessful and he smiled at you. 

“Kiss me once more at least, my prince,” you said and he complied with your request. 

He then rolled off you and laid on his back with a groan as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Perhaps we can request that the wedding be soon,” you suggested and he laughed, it was a beautiful sound that warmed your heart. 

He pulled you to him and led you to rest your head on his chest. 

“A wonderful idea, my beloved,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“For now, get some rest,” he said as he began to rub soothing circles on your back. 

Your eyes began to droop, and wrapped in the warmth and safety of your soon to be betrothed, you quickly fell asleep with your heart full. 

Everything taglist:

@spideysimpossiblegirl @dinandgone @ohpedromypedro @littlemisspascal @tombraider42017 @kirsteng42 @just-here-for-the-moment @salome-c

Aemond taglist:

@fultimefangirl @dumpsterfirecee @adderess @flowerpotmage @theold-ultraviolence @lady-phasma @aemonds-war-crime @schniiipsel @mommyslittlewarcriminal @batsyforyou @signyvenetia @sirenofavalon @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @padfooteyes @percyjacksonspeen @aemonds-sapphire​ 

[maybeimamuppet]

Do you believe Regina is redeemable?

ohhhhh buddy the whole can of worms this opened

to make a long story short: yes.

to make a long story longer with a tw for mentioned child abuse/neglect and suicidal ideation

i think every iteration of her deserves a shot at redemption.

canonically regina is at most seventeen years old. yes, she’s almost an adult. yes, she does and has done despicable things at this age and even younger. but she is still young. she is still a child. to completely, black and white say, that she is at her core an unredeemable monster who doesn’t even deserve to try does a complete and utter disservice both to her and the people she’s hurt in her past. to say she will be the way she is forever negates all the suffering she goes through and puts others through in canon, misguided though it is.

regina is also basically the textbook for a personality disorder and specifically bpd. borderline is (in a lot of cases i’ll say rightfully) very harshly judged. there’s a lot of stigma around it and cluster b disorders as a whole. but bpd is also caused for the most part by neglect and abuse in childhood. we only ever see regina’s dad in 2004 canon, for a single scene, crying over regina wearing the rabbit halloween costume. he’s completely absent in both the stage show and 2024. and looking at her mom, it is very obvious something has happened to the both of them and that this child (or neither of these children if you include kylie from 2004) is/are not getting the emotional guidance, support, and attention they need. who knows what happened before canon as well. who knows what her dad was like.

speaking as someone who also probably has bpd (which i discovered through doing research to write her better) i can say it is a terrifying experience. i’m lucky in that i’m able to resist my compulsions most of the time, but having them at all is beyond terrifying sometimes. i am filled with rage on a hair trigger these days. sometimes i’m able to process this anger in a healthy way. i can rationalize. i can think through it. i can calm myself down.

other times i can’t. i can only glance through the mean girls tag on ao3 now because if i look at numbers or think for too long about it, i compare the new fics that have come with the 2024 movie to things i’ve written. to see these fics that, while fantastic, are much shorter or don’t have as much effort put into them as what i do get literally ten times the love does hurt, as much as i adore and appreciate what i do get.

by nature with my other illnesses i have to pour my entire heart and soul, blood sweat and tears into every word i put on a page. every fic i’ve done is a piece of me that sometimes feels like i’ve torn it out of myself and given you to read. sometimes seeing that get 150 hits compared to a cadina fic that’s half as long (but again, still amazing! they all deserve every hit and kudos and comment and whatever) getting up to 1, 10, 50k hits just latches to a particularly sadistic part of my brain and it’s all i can think about for weeks. and it makes me want to quit. either writing or living.

and that sounds dramatic because IT IS. and i’m fully aware having those thoughts and urges is irrational. i don’t want them. i miss feeling like i have a community on ao3 (i absolutely have one here and i love all of you in my little circle with my entire being.) i hate having to avoid reading about my favorite characters because it does that much damage to my mental health. i am afraid that it takes something that small for me to have these massive thoughts.

all of that to say is that bpd makes switches easier to flip. it makes bad choices easier to make.

the reason i’m still here. the reason i still write and i haven’t deleted everything i’ve ever done. the reason i haven’t done a number of other things that i won’t say because they aren’t really relevant. is because i have chosen not to. it is incredibly hard sometimes. but it is still a choice you have to consciously make. you have to consciously decide to hurt someone. you have to consciously decide to say things. you have to consciously decide to humiliate your best friend in front of countless other people.

regina did make those choices.

and for that she does deserve consequences. she deserves repercussions and she deserves flack. she does not deserve to get hit by a bus (except for it being the catalyst to help her realize she needs to change) or being force fed to reach her biggest insecurity and fear without her knowledge.

she made the earliest choice when she was either eleven or twelve years old, that we know of.

that is a child.

regina is a child who is clearly suffering in some way we don’t see. she absolutely should be held accountable for what she does and what she has done. but she also deserves to be allowed to apologize and try to make amends. she deserves to be allowed the opportunity for growth and to heal and to become a functional adult who is capable of meaningful relationships and success. she deserves to be allowed to try.

does she deserve immediate or any forgiveness? no. the people around her also deserve the ability to make the choices with her that they will. she has caused harm, people are allowed to process the harm she has put upon them however they will.

but she deserves the opportunity to make it a choice for them.

she deserves a chance at redemption.