#and wrote this up last night bc i kept coming back to it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grippingbeskar · 2 years ago

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small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

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praisethegabs · 1 year ago

Text

B.D.S.M

Leon Kennedy x F!Mistress!Reader

synopsis: leon has a guilty pleasure, which is a deep secret no one knows. every time after a stressful mission, leon goes to this particular place to release his tension. you're too familiar with the man, already knowing what he loves. he's your favorite customer. you're his favorite mistress.

warnings: PURE SMUT. bdsm on its edge. degradation kink, praise kink, shibari, use of pet names, sex toys, sub!leon and dom!reader, handjob, edging, spanking, gaging, spanking, flogging, role-playing.

word count: 3735k

a/n: sub!leon always comes to my mind for unknown reasons. he's so fucking cute and awkward. sometimes, I don't see him as the dominant one, I think he's more of a switch. anyway, I wrote this bc I thought it would be funny to change sides (since the last smut I wrote was with dom!leon)

Leon's footsteps echoed through the corridor as he made his way back home. His mind was still reeling from the stress of the mission he had just completed. The weight of the world seemed to press down on his shoulders, and he yearned for a way to escape the constant tension that plagued him.

It was almost three in the morning, but he didn't care. Due to the nature of his job, Leon had a highly irregular schedule. His timing was inconsistent, and he did not have a set time to return home. It could be morning, afternoon, evening, or the middle of the night. Although his busy schedule demanded most of his time, Leon still had something that couldn't be postponed.

As he entered his apartment, he casually threw his leather jacket onto a chair and ran his hand through his tousled hair. The peaceful solitude of his home only intensified the profound loneliness that had settled deep within him. He needed a release, a way to forget the horrors he had witnessed. With a sigh, he reached for his phone and dialed a number that he had carefully stored in his contacts. The screen lit up, and he waited for it to ring. He felt a mixture of anticipation and relief when the call was answered.

"Hello," a sultry voice purred on the other end of the line. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Leon's voice was filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he replied, "I need to see you, Mistress."

A wicked smile played on your lips as you spoke on the other end of the line. "Of course, darling. I have just the thing to help you forget about your troubles. How soon can you come to my dungeon?"

Leon quickly checked his schedule. "I can be there in an hour," he replied.

"Perfect," you purred. "Prepare yourself and don't keep me waiting. We have much to explore, and I promise you that by the time we're done, all your worries will be left far behind."

As the call ended, Leon felt a renewed sense of anticipation and excitement. Your dungeon provides a sanctuary from the outside world, a place where he can relinquish control and seek solace in the pain and pleasure you provide. It was his escape, a way to let go of the burden he carried, if only for a few precious hours.

As Leon sipped a glass of wine, he gazed out of the window, his thoughts in turmoil. His work demanded discipline, control, and unwavering focus. Yet, it was in the realm of submission and surrender that he found the release he craved - an escape from the relentless pressure of his responsibilities.

Leon had always been a man of contradictions, and his desire for you was no exception. He wondered if his fascination with you was a reflection of his own internal struggles, a means to delve into the depths of his own desires and vulnerabilities. Guilt gnawed at him as he thought about the secrets he kept and the double life he led.

But as he replayed the memories of their encounters in his mind, he couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of your power and the blissful release it provided. It was a guilty pleasure he couldn't resist, a secret aspect of his life that provided him with a sense of liberation he couldn't find anywhere else.

You knew absolutely nothing about Leon, except for his preferences.

He always liked the rough style. As a skilled dominatrix, you know how to please a man. Since he discovered you, he has requested to become your exclusive client, and the payment he has provided is sufficient to reserve your availability exclusively for him. Fortunately, you were familiar with his schedule, so you began working mostly at night, which suited him perfectly.

You have set up an entire dungeon in your basement. It was the perfect place to meet his needs exactly as he wanted it.

At first, seeing his physique made you think he would be a great dominant. However, you eventually found out that he was more of a submissive man. Completely bent over your knees, ready to obey your commands without hesitation. Most dungeons do not permit sexual intercourse between dominants and submissives, but for him, this dynamic does not adhere to such restrictions. Since you have a dungeon in your own home, you have decided to make some slight modifications to the rules.

Obviously, you have never had sex with him, but other aspects of your relationship work just fine.

Leon's footsteps echoed through the garden as he made his way towards the entrance of his hidden sanctuary. Each step was a solemn reminder of the mission that had just been concluded. The scent of leather and candle wax hung in the air, familiar and comforting. He pushed open the unassuming door at the end of the hallway, revealing a hidden secret world beyond.

The dungeon served as a sanctuary for him, a place where he could escape the burdens of his perilous existence. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting, and there you were, dressed in black leather, waiting for him in the center of the room. Your presence commands attention; your aura is a captivating blend of power and sensuality.

"Welcome back, Kennedy," you purred, your lips curling into a mischievous grin. "You're not late; you arrived just in time."

Leon's tense shoulders relaxed as he stepped further into the dungeon, the door clicking shut behind him. He locked eyes with you, and a silent understanding passed between the two of you. He shed his jacket, the leather creaking as he tossed it aside, revealing the tension that had built up in his muscles during the mission.

You moved towards him, the sound of your heels clicking against the cold stone floor, with a devious glint in your eyes. "You look like you've had a rough day, my dear," you said, as your fingers lightly traced the contours of his jaw. "But, you know, I'm here to take care of you."

"Yes, Mistress," he nodded, closing his eyes to savor your touch and emitting a slight moan.

"Strip now," you ordered him, and stepped back to prepare the rest of the room and your toys.

The words were both a promise and a command, and Leon nodded in agreement. He needed this - the sensation of control slipping away from his grasp, the catharsis of pain and pleasure intertwined. You led him to the St. Andrew's Cross, a symbol of his shared desire for submission and domination.

With practiced ease, you secured his wrists and ankles to the cross, using leather restraints to keep him in place. Leon's heart raced, his mind focused solely on the anticipation of what would come next. The room seemed to shrink, closing in around him, leaving only the two of them and the palpable tension in the air.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his earlobe. "What would you like today, darling?" You whispered, asking your question.

"Take me to the edge, Mistress," Leon said, gazing at you with unwavering confidence.

"Very well," you nodded in agreement. "Remember the safe word, just in case."

Leon nodded once more and prepared himself for what was about to begin. He was waiting for the first strike to experience pleasure, but nothing happened. His eyes met yours, and he felt a shiver down his spine when he noticed the smile on your face.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You approached him seductively, holding a flogger in your hands, your nails digging into his flesh.

"I forgot my collar, Mistress," he said, his breath heavy with the sudden realization that he had forgotten the only item he was permitted to wear. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"Oh, bunny, you know we don't accept apologies," you said, biting his earlobe. "And do you know what this means?"

Leon nodded, biting his lip. He felt the first whip strike him hard, causing him to emit a loud moan. He tightly grips the leather restraints on his wrists, and the second blow leaves a red mark on his stomach. The third strike narrowly missed his cock and you can see him trembling as each blow compels him to seek relief from the agony of your flogging.

"Please, Mistress, forgive me," Leon begs, as you continue to flog him. Another strike, another groan.

"Have you learned your lesson, bunny?" You asked, delivering another whip to him, striking harder.

“Yes, Mistress. I did” Leon almost yelled, trying helplessly to avoid your strikes. His body was already red from the flogging. "Please, I won't forget it anymore."

You stopped, letting the flog aside. You took a leather collar from the drawer and placed it around his neck. His breath was heavy, and his entire body was shaking. He was indeed enjoying the anticipation of the punishment, although he had no idea what was about to happen. You untied him from the St. Andrews Cross, and he stood there, waiting for your next command.

"Stand in the center of the room," you commanded, holding a remote. He nods, walking with his naked, red body to the center of the dungeon.

You threw a silver spreader bar in his direction, and you didn't have to say it twice. Leon secured his ankles in the spreader bar, and once he was done, he glanced at you again. Silently, you pressed the button and then shackled his wrists to a drop-down ceiling bar. Pressing the button again, he stretched his arms in the air. The bondage dungeon is filled with furniture that enables you to attach him to any object in whichever manner you please.

Now he stands completely naked, with his ankles spread apart by a spreader bar and his arms stretched in the air, wearing nothing but his collar.

You stand before him, wearing a devilish smile on your lips. Suddenly, you firmly grasp his erect penis and apply pressure. You can see tears welling up in his sapphire-blue eyes as he bites his lip and tightly grips the shackles above his head. You squeeze it harder, and he gasps, yelping in pain. You paused for a moment, observing him. Another intense squeeze, another wave of pain, and he screams out loud. You finally release his cock and he exhales with relief, tears still streaming down his cheek.

"You're nothing but a sex toy. Look at you, so miserable," you said, as you walked around him and slapped his ass. "Such a naughty boy, desperate to be humiliated, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," his voice trembles as you slap his ass.

"Your purpose is to provide fuckings, am I right?" You asked again, delivering another slap to him, causing his body to jerk.

"Yes, Mistress," Leon nods again, his body jerking with each slap against his sensitive skin.

"Who owns you, fuckboy?" You stepped closer, gripping his hair firmly, causing him to emit a soft groan.

"You do, Mistress," he quickly replies, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly up and down.

"Do I own your cock as well?" You asked again, leaving love bites on his skin.

"Yes, Mistress, you do."

You take his cock again, smacking it harder and making him yelp again. Tears were already rolling down his cheeks once more. You walk to your box of instruments and retrieve the manuscript clips. You take one clamp, gently open it, and place it over his left nipple. Carefully close the clamp, ensuring that it does not cause any pain. He tries to hold his breath and keep his mouth shut while you repeat the same process on his right nipple.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll bear it all night," you wink at him, and he nods silently.

Then, your hand reached his cock again and you started to masturbate him. You can see his hands tightly gripping the shackles, and his breath growing heavier with each passing second. Leon began moaning, with each moan growing louder as you continued to stimulate him with your hands. And you keep masturbating him until you know he's close.

And then, you come to a complete stop, causing him to whine out loud.

"Bad boys don't get rewarded," you said, and pressed the button to lower the ceiling bar. "Kneel."

He obeys by kneeling down. The ceiling is high enough for him to stretch his arms in the air, and you are sitting directly in front of him. You don't have to say anything; he already knows what to do. Leon crawls between your legs and opens his mouth. He bends forward, his arms stretching upward before him. The restraints are not sufficient to allow him to approach you, and observing him beg for your pussy amuses you.

"Please, Mistress, allow me to pleasure you in my mouth” he begs, his voice filled with desperation as he fights back tears, inching closer to you.

His cock twitches and aches. He's desperate to be released, to ejaculate all over his body, longing to feel your touch. You keep teasing him by not allowing him to get closer to you, making him see your wide pussy open in front of him, yet denying him the ability to touch or engage with you.

"Please, I'm begging, Mistress," he pleads again, desperately trying to reach you.

"Such a pathetic, whining boy," you said, tightly gripping his jaw in your hands.

You released his wrists and ankles, instructing him to walk towards the bondage horse. He silently obeys you and walks straight to the corner of the room. With red ropes, you tied his arms and hands behind his back. Its shape is that of a half barrel with wide ledges and wings, covered in black leather. Leon positions his knees on each wing, and you proceed to shackle him once more, ensuring that he is securely locked on the edge of the frame. His collar is attached by chains on both sides to the ceiling bar, keeping his head up and facing forward.

"What do you deserve?" you ask, as you walk around the room and pick up your flogger once more.

"To be punished, Mistress," he responds, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him.

"Why?" you asked before striking him hard.

"Because I am a bad man," Leon says, his body jerking again with the whimpering.

You smiled, satisfied, and started to whip him until his entire back was red. When you're done with his back, you move to face him, squeezing his cock again. Leon is on the verge of tears, gasping and unable to control himself. In an instant, without your command, he ejaculates onto your hand. His entire face turns red.

"Did I say you could cum?" you asked him, squeezing his sensitive cock, causing him to whine in pain once more.

"No, Mistress. I'm sorry," he begs, tears falling down his face once more.

"Privilege revoked," you hissed, walking towards your torment box. Leon is visually impaired, but he sheds tears when he senses something cold around his cock. He knows what it is. "You'll come only when I say so."

You walk back to the corner of the room after locking the chastity cage on him. When you return, Leon flinches slightly as he feels your thumb pressing against him from behind. You uses oil and you're smearing it around his anus. A finger slips, then your thumb. Another finger, he already knows what's coming.

He feels the rubber sliding inside, and he moans again. He feels the initial pain, but he's okay with it. You slide it further, allowing the oil to lubricate him internally. You pull back the toy and gently begin a rhythmic back-and-forth fucking of his ass. You have precision and an obvious regular rhythm. Leon moans, closing his eyes and feeling the helplessness of his submission. You insert the toy into him, and he can hear you pressing a button.

It starts to vibrate inside his hole.

To keep him quiet, you place a ball gag in his mouth and leave him in his current state. He is tormented by a dildo in his anus, restrained by shackles and ropes, rendering him unable to move, resist, or voice any complaints. You sit, playing with the remote control of the device in your hands, adjusting the intensity to elicit either loud moans or soft whines from him.

The cock cage on him is painful, and he is aware of it. With his already aroused state, it becomes nearly impossible for him to cum without your consent, and he is aware that this is precisely what you desire. He is unable to move, but the vibration in his ass makes his flesh to ripple. It makes him shake his body. Leon moans again, whether from the pain caused by the cage or the vibration inside his ass. He shakes his head, the only movement he can make.

You press the button, and he sighs with relief, but not completely. You pump him again a few times and stop. You thrust into him quickly and forcefully, causing him to groan and moan. After some time, there is a final push, a powerful thrust that is enough to rock the bondage horse. He moans aloud again. You walk around the corner again and gently push something metallic, cold, and smooth inside his ass. Leon feels the object and thinks it's large, expanding inside him. Then, it pops in, causing a painful stretch that makes him scream again.

"Clean it," you tell him, pointing to his white semen on the leather bondage material. You unshackle his collar from the ceiling bar and his ankles from the restraints, but keep his arms tied with the ropes.

He obediently leans over from his waist until his tongue reaches the black leather. He licks it in wide swaths, gathering all his juices from his previous unauthorized release, leaving only his saliva behind.

You can see the color of his cock. He's so hard and sensitive. When Leon finishes cleaning the bondage horse, he kneels in front of you, waiting patiently. He is clearly struggling to hold back his orgasm, but at the same time, he is on the brink of climax.

"Desperate to cum, huh?” you teased, gently stimulating his sensitive nipples, eliciting another groan from him.

"Yes, Mistress," he says, his voice shaking once more.

You sat in an armchair in front of him, your legs spread apart, offering a tantalizing view of your glistening arousal. He doesn't move, but when he sees you nod, he knows what to do. He leans closer, and you can feel his tongue on your wet, sensitive, and swollen clit. He sucks you, savoring your taste, and moaning from the pleasure mixed with the slight pain he feels on his cock. You moan and grip his hair tightly, urging him to continue sucking you.

And when you reach your orgasm, Leon has to force himself to calm down, feeling your cunt on his face. His cock is hurting and you decide to please him in the appropriate manner.

“Color” you ask him, playfully tweaking his nipple.

"Green, Mistress," he says, trembling. He's lying.

"What color is it, bunny?" you asked him again, gripping the metal of his collar.

"Yellow, Mistress," Leon shakes. The pain in his cock is excruciating.

You released his cock from the cage, and he sighed with relief, only to gasp at your touch. He was very sensitive, and you started to masturbate him again. You took your magic wand and placed it under his dick, vibrating with intense power, while your other hand moved up and down on him. Leon can't last long. He's already too close to reaching orgasm. You, on the other hand, don't care. You continue to deliberate, his rhythm becoming tense.

"Go on, be a good boy and cum for your Mistress," you said, increasing your pace on him.

The words are enough. It emanates from his core and bursts out. His thighs and red belly shuddered first, as if he were being electrocuted. Then, it surged upward, causing his entire chest to shake as he let out a guttural moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Afterward, you removed the clips from his nipples, and he yelped and cried again. You also removed the plug from his anus, leaving it elsewhere.

Now, you have him standing at the end of the bondage horse again, and you instruct him to bend over and protrude his ass out. You tied him with the red ropes in a different manner, and he obeys you. This time, you take a flogger to his ass, almost caressing his cheeks with its sleek leather strands. Then, it comes out of nowhere.

The brutal spank of the cane striking his ass. He screams.

You cane him again, this time on his right ass cheek. He screams again and sobs. The third strike goes again. Leon yells.

You guide him to a nearby mirror and compel him to observe the three red marks on his ass.

He's crying. You had successfully led him to his edge, but you knew when to stop. You removed the gag from his mouth and untied the ropes that had left his arms almost purple. Then, you placed a robe on him. Aftercare is important, even in this type of situation.

"Are you okay?" you asked, leading him to the sofa in the opposite corner. "I know you wanted to be on the edge, but this is dangerous. Did something happen?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Leon says softly, although his entire body is in pain. "Just... don't worry, okay? I like it when you get rough with me."

"I'm not complaining, but are you sure you're okay?" you asked, embracing him and allowing his head to rest on your chest.

"I'm fine, trust me," he chuckles.

There is a moment of silence. Usually, he doesn't stay for aftercare. He gets what he wants and then leaves, but there's something different this time. You don't say anything, you decide to give him some space. This night was heavily different from the others, and you're not sure he's really alright.

“Can we do it again?” He lifts his head so he can see you. “But this time, can you blindfold me?”

You smirk. It's time for another round.

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highhhfiveee · 1 year ago

Text

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike! i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader) all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 8 months ago

Note

Hey honey!! So Im back with more dad!tan request. What if like y/n and tan were not dating, maybe just one night stand or were kinda talking at some point/friends with benefits, and tan did not know he was a dad until he runs into y/n either during a mission or just like at the store, and y/n has like a 5 year old who looks like tan. Like… the DRAMA!!

Hope you’re doing well hon!!

-🍼

hii bb!! I just realised that I automatically wrote this in headcanon format, hope that’s okay. I really love this idea🤭 thanks for requesting hope you like it💌 sending love

I got carried away, apologies!! wc: 675

TAN NOT KNOWING HE’S A DAD.

at the beginning, maybe his job got in the way, so you both kept things casual - ie friends with benefits. things ended abruptly and kinda suddenly, and you lost contact. and then soon after you split, you found out you were pregnant

you didn't tell him as you knew he wasn't ready, and bc of how things ended, you didn't want to bring him back into your life. maybe you relied on the support of family and friends to get you through the pregnancy (and with the uncertainty at the start)

I always write tan having a girl, so im gonna switch it up and say you had a boy (WHO is practically the spitting image of tan. but he also has a mix of your genes too. your body did the work. you deserve the credit for a pretty baby too)

when you were pregnant and when baby boy was born, you kept it secret and hidden. and didn't tell tan. you were very conflicted about it. you wanted him to know that he had a child, but you couldn't stomach the potential disappointment for you and your son. and then you got so busy bringing him up, that the time almost flew by. over the next couple years, you debated picking up the phone to text him, but every time you see your last message chats, you decide against it

maybe your son's birthday is coming up in a couple days, so you take him to the store to pick out decorations and flavours for his cake. he's sat in the trolley, playing with a toy while you walk down the aisles. THEN maybe you see the back of someone familiar... see where this is going?? so you try to avoid him and go down another

then out of nowhere, tan pops up and you both see each other. maybe bc of the child in the trolley, he feels compelled to say hi to you (he's nosey like that) and you do one of those internal 'fuck's for making eye contact with someone you don't want to speak to

you twist the trolley and turn baby boy away so tan can't see his face. and you have pleasantries - asking how the other is doing, what they've been up to etc. then the elephant in the room topic comes up. he asks if you're babysitting, then you say no. then he asks if he's your nephew, you say no again. he pauses, connecting the dots. then baby boy turns around and it's game over

and while tan is looking at your son (they have that vision & white vision moment in wandavision. please say you get the reference) and then tan asks how old the kid is, while he's smiling and nodding at the kid. then you say he's almost 5. and he's speaking in a friendly way while entertaining your son (like a baby voice, pretending he's speaking to baby boy but it's actually to you) "he's mine, ain't he?"

and you're looking between them both, and it just makes you feel warm and fuzzy. so you tell him "yeah" and then right after he asks when the birthday is, so you tell him it's in 2 days at your place. so he says to you "is it alright if I come?" and you tell him "yeah" and it's very sincere. and you and tan have this sweet, silent moment. then before leaving, he says to his son "see you in a couple days little buddy"

and he turns up for the birthday with tonnes of gifts!!!! everything you need that might not have been able to afford (being a single mum and everything) gifts, balloons and basic necessities he wished to have bought when you both needed them

he apologises for everything, and you do too for not telling him (maybe you feel guilty for those 5 missed years)

he asks if he can come over again tomorrow and do something. asking if he can spend time with both of you

#🍼#tangerine #tangerine x reader #dad tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine headcanon

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velvetlilith777 · 2 months ago

Text

Cedar Smoke

Sebastian x Reader

Author's Note: Another practice drabble! This one was loosely inspired by a plot post I saw on tik tok that was so cute it stayed in my head rent free. Also wrote this one gender neutral and I think I did pretty okay if that's chill to say.

Synopsis: Neither you or Sebastian sleep well, so you decide to spend the nights hanging out together since there's nothing better to do. It's just a way to kill time, right?

CW: Fluff mostly!!! They aren't in a relationship. Swearing bc it's a Seb fic so of course there is. Mentions and descriptions of anxiety and mental health problems. Oh also cigarettes because - Sebastian <3

Word Count: 2k

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was enough to drive a person mad. An incessant reminder of every second you weren't resting.

You were tired, of course you were. Operating a successful farm and carrying the needs of a small community on your back wasn't for the weak. Every part of your body and mind ached for rest at the end of every day.

Each night followed the same routine: get home, bond with your dog, eat dinner, shower and head to bed. At the end of it, you always felt like you'd be able to fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, when your head would finally lay and you'd begin to drift off, the last second before the sweet release of your dreams was met with what felt like a hammer to your chest. Knocking the wind out of you, you'd shoot upright upon being greeted by your old friend, anxiety. It wasn't the normal kind you dealt with on a daily basis, manageable with medication and some methods Harvey had taken the time to teach you. It was much worse and much heavier in your body. You weren't sure what the root cause was, just that it had been happening every night for months now matter what you changed or how you tried to cope.

You'd been lying there for hours, the clock finally hitting your last nerve. Sighing, you rolled over in search of your phone, finding it shoved under your pillow from when you gave up on a video or a game helping you calm down. The screen illuminated far too bright as you turned it on. Noticing you had a text notification from 20 minutes ago, you already knew who was trying to reach you at such an hour.

Seb: sleeping?

Of course he wasn't either. Though he would never fully share what was on his mind, you knew similar circumstances kept him awake well past most people too.

nope 🙃

Seb: same. wanna chill again?

yeah, you can come over here if you want

Seb: cool, be there soon

Standing up from your bed, you started fumbling around in the dark looking for something to change into instead of your pajama shirt. Settling on a sweatshirt, you threw it on and left your pajama pants for your bottoms before remembering that everything would've been easier if you'd just turned a light on. You really weren't sure how you were able to get about your day anymore with the effects of sleep deprivation in full swing.

The first time the two of you had spent the night in each other's company was accompanied by a symphony of frogs surrounding the lake by his house. The familiar pang of nighttime anxiety pushing you to search for any solution, you'd taken a walk under the stars to try and work through the tightness in your chest when you stumbled upon him smoking in search of similar relief. Since that night when you'd both realized you had similar luck around sleep, spending the dark hours together had become common, happening most nights of the week.

Padding out to your living room, you turned a single lamp on and plopped down on your couch while you waited for Sebastian to arrive. You began to scroll through instagram to pass the time, only making it through a handful of posts before you heard a knock on your door.

"It's open!" A half shout left your throat.

Creaks filled your ears as the programmer swung the door open letting himself in. A smile crept across his lips as a greeting.

"Hey, are you cold?" His nose was covered in a flush of red, reflecting the chill beginning to settle in for the upcoming season.

"Always. We can start a fire?" Your head tilted towards the stone fireplace his mother had carefully installed in your home during your last renovation.

"Thank god, it's fucking freezing out there" he let out a low chuckle while shutting the cabin door.

"I can make us some coffee too? Decaf, though, unless you want to commit to this whole 'awake when we shouldn't be' thing?" You poked, hopping up and striding towards the mug cabinet in your kitchen.

Sebastian glanced up from the fireplace where he'd already achieved a successful kindle over to where you had sat two of your favorite mugs. "Decaf is fine, but only because we should be sleeping. Don't give me that shit during the day."

The two of you locked eyes, the emo giving you a snarky side smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

With your mugs full of your shared favorite beverage, you returned to your spot on the sofa and pulled out the giant, chunky blanket Emily had knit for you last Feast of the Winter Star. Sebastian followed not long after, the fireplace crackling with the sounds of warmth.

"What's the vibe for tonight?" Your usual cheery tone coated your words even at this hour.

"Mmhm, we could start The Witcher over again? It's been awhile." Fabric slid across your legs as he tugged the blanket lightly to join you in bundling up.

"I'll never say no long-haired Henry Cavill!"

Taking a swig of his coffee, he snorted a laugh and shook his head at your thirst. You met his gaze with a giggle, reaching for the remote on the table beside him. The familiar dum dum of the Netflix intro sound filled your living room as you flipped on the series you'd rewatched a dozen times now.

Feeling a familiar cramp start up in your thighs from the hours of labor you put into your work each week, you decided you hadn't picked the most comfortable position to rest in having sat cross legged on the couch. Sebastian caught you wincing out of the corner of his eye as you adjusted your legs for any alleviation from how taught your muscles had become.

"You okay?" It came out almost a whisper, so quiet you weren't sure if he meant to ask at all.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just sore from the farm. Sitting like this isn't helping either" a light laugh followed your words as you attempted to deflect from how unpleasant your pain had actually become.

He studied your face for a moment, your eyebrows had begun to furrow at the burn throughout your body while you continued to squirm in search of comfort. How you had overworked yourself to this point of exhaustion and still were wide awake with him he both did and did not understand. You should be passed out by now, but mental health was a bitch that took no prisoners, he knew that well.

"Would it help if you laid down?"

Shaking your head while giving him a tired smile, you returned "no, I can't watch the show from my room and I can't sleep either, remember?"

"No, on me" the emo blurted out so quickly he didn't realize how timid he should've been. "I meant, would it help if you laid on me. Out here."

Your mouth parted in shock briefly before finding the wit to respond. "Oh no, I really wouldn't want to do that to you I'll be f-"

"I don't mind. Promise" his face was straight aside from the worry lines on his forehead, giving away his genuine concern for you as he cut you off.

"Here." He gently helped you stand up before positioning himself horizontally on the cushions, resting his head on the arm. Once he had settled, his hand tapped against his chest beckoning you to him.

"Okay, fine, but this is better for your neck," you sighed a small laugh before tossing a throw pillow at his face. As you moved to crawl on top of him, he adjusted the pillow behind his head and moved to bring the blanket back over the both of you.

Stretching out, it was as if your body began to melt into his. Scent overwhelmed you in the best way. The air smelt of cedar from the fire, while the smell of tobacco smoke lingered on his hoodie. You weren't sure what cologne he wore, but something spicy and warm enveloped your head. Beams of light danced on the walls as the fire flickered around. Moment by moment, the ache in your chest grew lighter.

Geralt and Stregobor had just begun speaking in the illusion of the mage's tower when your eyes started to flutter shut. Sebastian's heartbeat thumping in your ear with the comfort of your favorite show in the other was enough to finish lulling you off with the anxiety now at bay. Once you allowed yourself to surrender to the exhaustion that was now your biggest worry, waking you up wouldn't be possible until morning.

"Want to watch the next one?" Sebastian quizzed as episode one came to a close.

Silence. Not even a twinge of movement left your body. He pushed your hair out of your face while he peered down at you in hopes of getting your attention. Greeted with the most peaceful he'd seen your face in months, the reality of the situation washed over him. You actually fell asleep. The corners of his mouth crept upward, relief brought to his mind that one of you was able to rest after all.

Seb pressed play on the next episode. Checking the time, he decided he'd put you to bed after this one and head home. His thumb mindlessly rubbed circles on your back and in your hair. Tension grew on the tv, but he found himself yawning when he should've been paying the most attention. Shit. He was about to fall asleep too. Realizing he wouldn't be able to make it through the rest of the hour, a wave of guilt hit him - he wanted to stay. Your body felt like the kindest weighted blanket on his own. The smells of amber and vanilla from your shampoo had been filling his nose as he played with your hair. His brain was quiet, and he couldn't remember the last time it was.

No. It would be wrong to overstay his welcome just because both of you had found peace in this moment. You weren't awake and able to ask him to stay and he wouldn't let himself cross any unspoken boundaries you may have had.

His elbows found the bottom cushions. He began to push both of you up in an effort to carry you to bed. As he slowly started moving, so did your head. Your arms wrapped around little tighter around his back. He froze, hearing you grumble something incoherent while your eyebrows furrowed together. Fuck. He wasn't sure how to get out from under you and keep you asleep.

Pulling an arm out from under him, he began to stroke your hair again.

"Hey, I need to get you to bed" he cooed.

You lightly shook your head, your brows still knit together. You muttered a small no along with it, but it was quiet enough to leave room for doubt.

He wasn't sure what to do. If he kept going, you were bound to wake up fully. You weren't actually awake enough to make a sound decision, but the small gestures you did manage made it seem like you wanted him to stay right there and stop moving. It went against everything in his moral code to stay without welcome, and he didn't want to put your friendship at risk. But god, his brain was calm and you were so comforting.

"Fuck it" he whispered to himself. If this was the wrong decision, he would gladly pay the price in the morning. His head met the pillow you'd given him as he wrapped his arms back around you. He swore he saw a smile tug at the corners of your lips in response. Hitting play on the show again, he let the quiet of his mind and the serenity of the moment soothe him away.

For the first time in years, he got a full night's worth of rest in your company.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian #sebastian stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #insomnia plot #sebastian x reader #sebastian x gender neutral reader #sebastian fluff #stardew valley sebastian fluff #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley sebastian fanfic #stardew valley one shot

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kisses4kaia · 11 months ago

Note

i’ve been seeing ppl do sej x coryo x reader and all the time i see dom sej, switch coryo, and sub reader and it gave me this idea.

i think it would be interesting to see dom coryo, switch sej, and sub reader. yes ik this is very much ooc BUT IDGAF 😵

the plot could be that coryo and sej find the reader’s diary that she kept hidden in a shoebox. in the diary she’s saying things like “oh i want coryo or sej so bad omg”(obviously not like that LMAO). i feel like you could put romance into this plot too by having them see that she also would write about these cute scenarios abt them both. TEETH ROTTING THINGS EVEN.

i’m not sure if coryo would be more gentle with sej bc in my mind he(coryo) would be the one to actually consider the things in the diary. sej is up for the idea, but he’s nervous abt doing this with coryo bc duh it’s his best friend.

anyways, i hope this is interesting enough to do bc i liked how you wrote sub sej!

(this was long asf i’m so sorry 😭😭 also, this doesn’t have to be a long ass fic! if you think this would be better as a longer fic or shorter fic, GO AHEAD‼️‼️)

YES I LOVE ! plz don’t apologize i loved hearing ur thoughts . oh and i changed some minor things about this but i still hope u enjoy💞

your blood ran cold as corio stood at the foot of the bed, your fuzzy pink diary in hand as sejanus stood next to him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face, as if he was trying to contain laughter. “god, i would die happy if i could sit on coriolanus’ face and have sejanus stuff his cock down my throat,” corio quoted your journal, an devilish, amused, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “such dirty words for such a shy girl. don’t you agree, sejanus?”

he meets the blond boys eyes and nods, in modest agreement. “i don’t know, corio, i’m not all that surprised. i mean, she practically begged to join our group for the project,” he cocked his head slightly as he reasoned, all too casual about the situation.

he hadn’t lied, when professor click assigned a project for groups of three, you immediately got to batting your eyelashes and flattery with the two boys. at first, your intentions were pure, only wanting to ensure a good grade for the assignment, and it made the most sense to try to get with sejanus and coriolanus, for they had the highest marks in the entirety of the class. you had wanted nothing but an ‘a’, until you began noticing how beautiful corio’s eyes were in the sunlight, and how full and plump sej’s lips were when he pushed a pencil through them in concentration, and you hadn’t even realized you’d begun spiraling. you entrusted your diary with all the details of your infatuation for the boys, and as you wrote on late, dark nights, you’d never expected to have the subjects of your logs read it. you were utterly mortified, and your paled expression did not conceal it well. “oh, come on now, darling. don’t be ashamed, we aren’t judging you,” coriolanus cooed at your rigid posture at the head of the bed.

today was supposed to be the last day. the last day you were working on the project, and you’d let them into your empty home, into your bedroom, and onto your bed. you had let them linger in your room while you grabbed your school bag from the living room, facilitating them just the right amount of time to snoop if they so pleased, and you should have known that they did. in their defense, how could sejanus even be blamed for reaching for the blush book sitting in such plain sight on your nightstand? how could coriolanus be at fault for reading more when the first page had ‘corio ♡’ and ‘sej ♡’ written about 30 times all over the lined paper? when you’d returned, completely oblivious to their snooping, corio had hidden it behind his back and obscured it from your view. it was only when you turned to grab a pen off of your nightstand, the nightstand in which you retired your diary to every night, that you noticed the pink rectangle missing. slowly, you turned to face the boys who were standing, your innermost thoughts and secrets in corio’s hands. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i promise. i just…” you’re stumbling over your words nervously and you can feel sweat forming on your brow.

corio just laughs before sejanus takes the book from him, thumbing to another page. “all i want is for sej to hold me in his strong arms while corio eats me out. i need him to call me a good girl, i need it, i need it, i need it,” as he reads, his voice is monotonous, but his face reads touched, pleased. he looks over to corio, and upon viewing the expression on his face, knowing exactly which gears are turning in that head of his, he shakes his head. “i don’t know, corio. is that really a good idea?” sej is hesitant, but the blond boy just keeps staring at you with hungry eyes, the brunette boys apprehension not deterring him from his goal one bit. “sejanus, she obviously wants it if she wrote a whole fucking novel on how bad she needs to get her holes filled by me and you,” he reasons, speaking as though you are not in the room, which sent shivers rampant all over your skin. “but together?” sejanus squeaks and corio’s expression of amusement shifts from you to him. “what, you don’t want to? because i’ll be here? c’mon, sejanus, let’s not pretend i can’t see you’re hard at the mere idea of seeing me cum inside of her,” sejanus just rolls his eyes and redirects his attention back to you. “you want this?” he’s walking slowly, closer and closer to you, you who’s sat pretty at the head of the queen-sized bed, like an unsuspecting doe while the wolves prey on you hungrily. coriolanus walks around the other side, and your senses are on fire, watching your two classmates stalk towards you with primal lust swirling in their deep eyes.

you can only nod weakly, afraid that if you were to make a sound, your own voice would betray you. “words, sweetheart,” corio says in a singsong voice, his hand reaching out to your chin, jerking it to force your eyes to meet his. “please,” you squeak, lower lip almost quivering. the blond boy pouts at you, before using his free hand to fall between your thighs, flipping your skirt up before petting your cunt over your embarrassingly damp panties. corio’s digits move skillfully as the pads of his fingers press through the fabric and onto your clit, pulling desperate whimpers out of you. you haven’t forgotten about sejanus in the slightest, hyper aware of his looming presence, but you were much too afraid to break eye contact with corio, so you simply whisper faintly under your breath “sejanus,”

corio lets up on his grip of your jaw and allows your eyes to land on sejanus, who’s palming his bulge through his trousers. his eyes read your needy ones before grabbing your hand and replacing his own. you gasp at the how large he feels even through the layers of fabric, and have to bite your lip to the point of breaking skin so as to contain a moan. corio’s ministrations feel good, so good, but it’s not enough. “more, please. need you, need you both” your eyes begin pricking with tears as you look back at the snow boy, face rendering as a plead as your hips buck weakly into his hand. “i know, baby, i know,” corio leans down and for the first time, presses a kiss to your lips, before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle digit into you with ease. you moan against the sweet lips on yours, and turn to face sejanus, eyes begging for permission as you toy with the button on his trousers. “go ahead, pretty,” sejanus breathes out, pleasure building up within him. as well as you can manage while under the influence of gratification corio is invoking upon you, you undo the button and the zipper of sejanus’ pants and pull them down along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. you were mesmerized at first glance, he was beautiful; girthy, but still quite lengthy. prominent veins ran up and down him and his tip was a dark shade of vermillion, weeping with pre. you swear you thought drool was coming out of your mouth, because sejanus just smiles knowingly, guiding your hand back onto his cock.

at the same time, corio adds another finger to your tight cunt. his other hand comes in to use the pad of his thumb to draw calculated, deliciously meticulous, circles on your sensitive bud. you can tell sejanus is close from the way his eyes flutter shut as pleasure overtakes him, from how you can feel him twitch in your hand, and you know your release is coming soon, too. and when it does, pleasure courses through your veins, you had never felt anything like the orgasm corio talked you through. “fuck, yeah baby. cum all on my fingers, hm? poor, pretty, baby. so wound up f’me,”

not long after, you feel sejanus’ seed spill onto your hand, a string of explicits falling smoothly from his plump lips, along with moans of your name and praises for how good you make him feel. when his eyes reopen, you suddenly feel bolder than you did 20 minutes ago, and stare him down like he’s the prey, while licking his sperm off of your pretty, delicate, manicured, fingers. sejanus thinks—no, he knows—that could’ve made him cum again on the spot if corio hadn’t interjected, his tone a starved and vicious growl.

“on your knees, now.”

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huuuuughes · 23 days ago

Text

Mine. - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.

Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!

Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)

You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs.

The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have.

Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem.

You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.

After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:

Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please?

After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level.

Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me.

Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you.

The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you.

After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him.

“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat.

“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved.

“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you.

“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“

“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy.

“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said.

“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly.

“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space.

“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”

“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized.

“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means.

“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment.

His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.

Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief.

“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you.

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked.

“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane.

“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion.

“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.

He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline.

You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go.

“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit, and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath.

He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it.

Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you.

“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.”

“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak.

“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you.

“Did you like that?” You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy.

His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.

“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on.

“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..”

“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Use your words princess.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back.

You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.

“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing.

Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again.

“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out.

“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes.

“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!”

“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you.

“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.

“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more.

“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster.

He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him.

“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine.

“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you.

“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.

“I love you too.”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”

“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too.

“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words.

“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him.

“Anything, you name it.”

“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”

“Okay. How about we start forever now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#nhl #hockey #danielle writes #fluff #angst #smut #jeremy swayman #boston bruins #boston bruins fic #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman smut #jeremy swayman fluff #jeremy swayman x reader #jeremy swayman imagine #nhl writing #nhl imagine

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meet-you-at-the-north-star · 8 months ago

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Not a bad night

George Luz x reader

Summary: very short and cute little thing I wrote right after the first fic I posted on here bc I felt bad for how I treated poor George there lol <33

Word count: 599

“Hey, are you still with me?” I was so tired that George’s voice sounded like it was coming from a mile away.

He chuckled, continuing to walk carrying me in his arms towards my own house. We had been out all night drinking with some of the boys and he had never seen me quite so sleepy.

Maybe it was due to having a few more drinks than usual, or maybe I was just tired to begin with, but either way he wasn’t about to complain.

Noticing I was barely able to walk, he had offered to drive me home and as soon as I sat in the passenger seat, my eyes had fallen shut and I’d been in an out of consciousness for the whole ride. Mostly out.

But I could hear his voice now as he kept talking and cracking jokes at me to keep me awake and I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was cozy and nice.

“Where are the keys, doll?”

“Don’t call me that” I frowned and he laughed.

“Of course you’re awake for that”

“They’re…” I tried to point a direction but it was hard to do in the dark. “Jacket. Left pocket”

He found them pretty quickly. “I’m gonna have to put you down for a minute, but you just lean on me, okay?”

I nodded and when my feet touched the ground I encircled any part of his body that I could reach, looking for that warmth again.

The key turned in the lock, he picked me up once again, this time bridal style, and we finally went it. “Looks like we’re just married” he said with a grin.

“In your dreams, soldier”

“How can you be so cruel” He feigned outrage and distress as he started heading for the bedroom. “I thought we really had something special here…”

I opened one eye and saw the amusement written all over his face, so I gave him a light cuff: “Idiot”

“At your service, ma’am” He slowly and gently lowered me on the bed. He tucked me under the covers, but then suddenly, as he was about to walk away, I pulled him back by his jacket with one hand.

“George” I called in a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“You’re cute” I ran my hand all over his face as if to emphasize the point. “Thank you for doing this”

His heart started racing. He could tell I wasn’t joking, but I also wasn’t exactly in my right mind at the moment.

The natural consequence was panicking. “No problem, I better…” He stood up straight, taking a step back “I-I better go now”

He knew how to deal with sarcasm and digs, that was his first language, but moments of real, human connection had him completely lost.

“Please stay?” My eyes were fully open now, even exhausted as I was. I saw the confusion and hesitation in his eyes slowly leave room for hope.

“Sure thing” He took off his own jacket and very carefully laid down on the other side of the bed, facing me with an expression that looked an awful lot like awe.

I smiled at him one last time and about three seconds later I was fast asleep. He stayed up for another hour or so, not daring to move a muscle, just listening to me breathe and admiring the relaxed look on my face as I drifted off into the dream world.

Not a bad night at all, he thought.

#george luz x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #george luz #fanfic #my fics

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raapija · 11 months ago

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Strollonso au, but I actually wrote something...

Lance and Fernando's night out in Sendai OR a very drunk tall Canadian being carried back home by a not-so-drunk short Spaniard.

This is very short, so give it a quick read ! ✨

Fluffy to the point of almost throwing up ❤️

"I'm tired..." Lance groaned from across the table and slid down a little further in his seat. Fernando chuckled at him and called for the total to pay the bill for their drinks.

"No wonder," the Spaniard started as their bartender brought the bill. "You drank enough beer for the whole of Canada tonight."

"Hah..." Lance huffed and waited for the man to pay. Fernando always paid, every single night out or dinner for the past five years, the man was insistent on it and Lance had long ago decided not to bother.

"Come on, vamos." Fernando got up and offered Lance a steady hand to grab onto and heave his lanky body up from the leather covered seat. The younger man weighed heavy on his side as they said their good byes to the nice staff at the little Kokubuncho bar.

***

"Oofff... My feet don't work?" Lance muttered as he struggled to keep up with Fernando's strides in the chill night air. It was pretty quiet,only a few people passing them in the usually bustling bar district.

Fernando glanced behind to see Lance had stopped a little back and was looking back at him helpless.

"Ay, let me." the Spaniard walked over to him and motioned him to hop onto his back to carry him.

"You're not gonna CARRY me back, stupid." Lance exclaimed but Fernando kept his cool. The drunk Canadian was easy enough to convince. "Fine. But carrying a man half your size is YOUR problem."

"Yeah, you are my problem..." Fernando muttered under his breath in Spanish. "Giddy up."

"Giddy up? Hah, you're insane." Lance laughed at the sudden expression. He tried jumping up a few times and almost toppling them both over before Fernando could finally catch a proper hold of his legs and Lance wrapped his arms around the older man's shoulders.

"Onward!" the Canadian yelled and pointed towards the general direction of their hotel. Fernando carried him with surprising ease and garnered a couple of entertaining looks from the people passing by. Not very often do they see two foreigners in such a ridiculous situation.

"My strong man..." Lance hummed into Fernando's ear and nuzzled his neck. He sounded so content with the whole thing and Fernando could feel the weight increasing as the man relaxed. Or was he falling asleep?

"Anything for my princesa." the Spaniard said and earned one last chuckle from the younger man before he was completely out. Steady stream of warm, beer scented breath against his neck.

Hey... This might be absolutely dogshit bc I just woke up, but I HAD to get this out of my system 😭

#strollonso #the pookies au #lance stroll #fernando alonso #f1 #short fic

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 23 days ago

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tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

youtube

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

watching

happy noirvember!!!

youtube

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #listen this one's a little light but i am experiencing The Horrors

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soleilnomoon · 1 year ago

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hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻

hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3

(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)

it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.

of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.

sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.

he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.

if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.

you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.

“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.

he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.

you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.

not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.

do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?

it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.

when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.

you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.

“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.

but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.

in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.

he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.

you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.

except you can’t, can you?

there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.

“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.

an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.

you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.

crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.

“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.

he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.

guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.

your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.

crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.

the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.

he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.

you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.

still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.

he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.

you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.

all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.

his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.

sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.

unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.

you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.

your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.

“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.

another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”

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underdark-dreams · 1 year ago

Note

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him.

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his.

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble.

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy.

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach."

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it.

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken.

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on.

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck.

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested.

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds.

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit.

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face.

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted.

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again.

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart.

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body.

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly.

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

#i love them i love them i love them #pls someone tell me their ship name #karlach x dammon #dammon x karlach #kardammon #bg3 karlach #bg3 dammon #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #infernal metal #heartforge

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i-think-i-have-too-many-fandoms · 1 month ago

Text

Epiphany

Summary: Mansion Baron Park Seonghwa was tired of living in a dusty mansion so he decided to finally hire some help. On your first day working for him you noticed something strange about the man, but you can't ask him because he is almost always gone during the day till your done with your shift.

(A/n: Watched the Halloween performance video for 'A Black Cat Nero' and it HEAVILY inspired this. there also might be a little bit werewolf!straykids mentioned if i continue this but idk yet- its a bit of a clusterfuck bc as i was writing i just kept getting more ideas 🙄)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: he word 'smirk' probably written too much,

Pairings: Seonghwa x fem!reader, and a little bit of Hongjoong x fem!reader(?)

Seonghwa hated dust. It was one of his biggest pet peeves, and lately, he hasn't been able to keep up with the amount in his large home. So while he was at the store one night and he heard you talking to the cashier about how you were laid off from the last family you cleaned for, he innocently followed you out of the store to ask if he could give you a job. You needed the money and you were looking but you couldn't help but think something was off with him, but hesitantly you said yes. He gave you his number and address and wrote down a date and time for you to come by.

His home was rather on the outskirts of the city you lived in thus you couldn't take your usual form of transportation (the bus) the entire way there. You took it as far as possible and then rode your bike the rest of the way. When you arrived you had a feeling his house would be big but you didn't think it would be this big, it was a solid three stories and most definitely there was another below. You decide to put your bike somewhere it wouldn't be quite as visible. You were somewhat out of breath so you took a moment to catch up with your lungs before you knocked on the door. But before you could the door abruptly opened with Seonghwa holding it open.

"Welcome, Y/n, I hope you found your way here safely." He spoke softly towards you with a faint smile on his lips. "I noticed you didn't drive up? Did you leave your vehicle at the gate?" He peered at you waiting for you to answer as if he was trying to read you in some way.

You didn't particularly want to tell the beautiful man before you that you're poor but lying could only lead to more problems down the road. "Ah, no actually, I usually take the bus but i couldn't take it all the way here so I biked part of the way."

He scowled lightly seemingly disapprovingly before training his face back to before. "I see. Well then, if you will follow me I will show what you will be doing for me." He turned around heading inside and walking slow enough as though to make you you're able to follow behind him.

When he had finished the tour of the upstairs, and main floor and showing you what you would be doing you noticed a door and you mustered up the courage to ask Seonghwa about it and his only response was "You needn't worry about it, that area is for me to clean." And you probably wouldn't have as much curiosity as you do if it weren't for the eerie smile he gave while saying it to you but you can manage to hold in your piqued interest. He swiftly changed the topic of conversation by asking if you would like to start working that day for a limited amount of time and you didn't have anything else going on for the rest of the day so you said yes. He reminded you where the cleaning supplies were and led you to where he wanted you to start and once you did he walked away.

When you finished cleaning and it reached the designated time you agreed to work until (six thirty), you walk through the house (mansion) to try and find Seonghwa. As you rounded a corner you nearly bumped into someone and lost your footing trying to keep that from happening. Mentally preparing yourself to fall you almost don't notice the firm grasp on your waist.

"I am so sorry, Mr. P- You aren't Seonghwa?" You study the new handsome face belonging to the hand on your side. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you and sorry for nearly knocking you over. Do you happen to know where Mr. Park is?" You step away and hold out your hand for him to shake as you introduce yourself.

The man in front of you now glances at your hand before taking it in his own and proceeding to lean down and kiss the back of it. Your face flushes almost instantaneously as he stands straight again while he smirks at you. "I am Hongjoong. It is a pleasure to meet you. And Seonghwa is just down the hall in his study. Are you working here permanently?" While he speaks that smug smile never leaves his face despite his eyebrow raising in question.

"Yes, I will be working here permanently, today was my first half of a day. And thank you for telling me where Mr. Park is, Have a nice rest of your evening." You smile at Hongjoong as you pass him to go to Seonghwa's office.

When you get to the door you knock and here a faint 'come in'. As you push open the door Seonghwa starts speaking, "Hongjoong I thought i told you i was done with the conversation and asked you to leave me be for a- ah, Y/n, I'm sorry i thought it was someone else. Is it time for you to leave already? Time must have gotten away from me. Let me get you your check and walk you out." When he noticed it was you a kind smile grew on his face and he began standing.

As your making your way home you can't help but feel uneasy. A feeling of being watched looming over you. You're waiting at the bus stop when a black car pulls up. You avert your gaze as the window rolls down, a man inside the car calls out to you in a voice you recognize. "Y/n, do you need a ride? Seonghwa told me you take the bus and i couldn't in good conscience let a woman go home by herself. It's dangerous out here at night." It's Hongjoong, just as your about to turn him down you hear a very strange noise in the woods and quickly move to get into his front seat. He smirks at you, "Eager to go home with me?" You open your mouth to correct him but realize he was being sarcastic. You close your mouth and tell him your address... You can pick up your bike tomorrow...

The ride to your apartment was quiet, not even the radio. And even though your in the bustling city now you still feel like your being watched. Hongjoong parks on the curb and you get out and close the door before he could say anything (if he was going to say anything). Once you've finally gotten into your apartment you start your nightly routine and can't help but think about your mysterious new employer and his possibly even more mysterious friend. They were fascinating men and you couldn't get them off your mind.

~~~~~

should i continue this?

#ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #seonghwa #ateez fic #ateez #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x y/n #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you #seonghwa fluff #ateez imagines

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eyeritestuff · 8 months ago

Text

“I’m home.”

——

Tom (Eddsworld) x Reader [FUTURE AU]

Characters: Tom

Warnings: none,, just sad or whateva (send help)

Author’s note: don’t ask where i got inspo… short bc erm yah :3 i didn’t check for typos so oopsies !

——

The night was bleak, but yet somehow managed to house life with all of the neon city lights. You let out breath, only to see it animate as smoke in front of you. It was nothing you weren’t already used to, however living in America for 10 years will make you appreciate the little sun home had.

You had just got off the plane and were awaiting a bus to your hotel. You came here on impulse.. you were starting to get anxiety at the idea. What was the whole purpose of this trip? You tried to quell it, and so you looked down at your phone to see a missed call from- oh.. oh.

Immediately, you unlock your phone and redial, and with the same amount of swiftness, the other side picked up.

“Hello?”

His voice, it sounded so different. It was woven with misery. It’s not the him you knew. Of course, in the past he always had his monotone and sassy way of responding, but it’s.. different. Does he even know? He hasn’t called you all this time up until this point.. he had to know.

“Tom..?”

You choked out. Why were you getting emotional? This didn’t make any sense. You missed him, yes, vbht he hurt you. It’s probably the nostalgia from being at here again. At home.

But home didn’t look like home anymore.

“ahh.. y/n..,” he sighed and your breath hitched, “i’m sorry.. i’m so so sorry.”

You grabbed your stuff and got off of the bench you were sat at and started walking.

“Please don’t hang up, and listen. I don’t know why I didn’t call. I think about you every night. I was mad... I think I was mad. I was hurt you didn’t even hesitate to leave. I didn’t show up at the airport the day you left and I regret it everyday. The promise you made all those years ago.. we were teenagers, I know, but I can’t help but remind myself of it every time I think of you.”

Your walking pace started getting faster. Next thing you knew, you took a sharp left turn, then a right, then you continued on straight. Your body was guiding you at this point, but you didn’t care. As long as the tears didn’t fall. You listened intently as his breath hitched and couldn’t help but feel your stomach turn.

“I got the letter you sent me.. and I never wrote back. I’m sorry. I read it everyday. I tried writing back, and I’ve kept every draft. I want to read it to you one day.. I don’t know when that day will be, but y/n.. when I read the last part.. when you said ‘Til infinity.. did you really mean it? Do you still love me? Did the feelings ever leave?? Y/n I can’t begin to apologize enough..”

Next time your conscious decided to check up on your surroundings, you were in a building signing a visitor list with your shoulder prompting up your phone to your ear.

“Y/n.. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I was hurt, and I was upset.. that I lost the only person I ever recognized as a part of me. I didn’t want your happiness to depend on me. I wanted you to have the world, and the luxuries I couldn’t afford you. For fuck sake y/n, I could barely afford repairing Susan. I saw how much you wanted to become a doctor.. so I thought letting you go would be best,” he let out a sad chuckle, and it made you flash a sad smile in return, “I’m probably not making any sense, am I? Whatever.. I just needed to get this out to you.”

You found yourself standing in a doorway to an office. You didn’t dare make a noise once you realized where you were: It was his office.

How’d you even think to come here.. when did you even ask the front desk for directions? How’d you know— well, you knew what he was up to because Matt did keep in contact. Still, it made your stomach do flips.

You heard him speak twice over because you hadn’t dare hang up, “Y/n… you don’t have to say anything but..” He stopped, and so did your heart. The feedback from the phones was enough to make the back that was facing you turn. To say he looked different was an understatement.

You watched as his frown turned into a shaky smile, then into a frown again, but this time he bit down on his lip. Probably to stop the quivering. You couldn’t tell if he was crying due to the goggles he had on, but you knew he was in shock by the way he shakily stood up.

Your heart sank watching how he tried to stay strong for you.

The tears fell when he hung up.

The sobs followed when you closed the door behind you.

Tom slowly moved from behind his desk to get closer to you, only for him to run towards you after watching your legs struggle to keep you up. Falling into his arms, you clung onto him for dear life. He smelled so nice.. the alcohol scent was softer now.. did he lay off a little? All the memories your dream job helped you repress came rushing back. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first true best friend… your first everything.

“I left you.. I broke our promise, and I’m so sorry Tom-” he interrupted, “You were my responsibility and I avoided you because I was being selfish.”

You looked up at him, and him down at you.

“I love you so much… you look so miserable… yet you look so pretty.. you’ve grown up.” You tried to smile but you realized it probably looked like you were dying, and the awkward laugh you choked out ended up sounding like a whimper.

Burying your face into his chest, you spoke muffled, “I regret leaving you. I was selfish.. and I didn’t think of you-” “No y/n-” “Listen.. please.. I don’t need the money. At least not anymore. I wanna be here with you again. I wanna be with you.. again. I wanna have the stupid family you always spoke about.. you know.. the one with the mutated dog and a daughter with the inability to tell her left from the right..”

You heard a chuckle rumble from him and began to pet your head, “I can’t believe you remember that..” Oh his voice sounded sad.. like he was crying. Brace for rejection, is what you told yourself.

“Id like that a lot y/n..”

You looked up to see Tom, now without his goggles.. Oh his eyes… what happened to your love when you were away. You couldn’t help but cry harder seeing him like that. You weren’t there for him. You watched as his face grew pained watching your reaction. Like a child, you rubbed your eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“Tom… I love you so much. There’s so much I want to say but I can’t manage to stop.. barely even speak… could you ever forgive me..? For doing this to you.. for leaving you like this..”

You felt his hand gently grace your face.. what once was a soft hand turned rough.

“I’d forgive you a hundred times over if it meant I got to hold you again.”

#eddsworld tom #tom ew #tom eddsworld #tom fanfic #tom x reader eddsworld #tom x reader #ew tom #future au #eddsworld future #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld fanfic #eddsworld #this lowkey a vent ngl

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