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javiscigarette · 1 year ago

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In the Middle of the Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: In the middle of the night, Joel is wide awake and you're moaning in your sleep

Warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, pwp, fingering, (consensual) somnophilia, Joel’s pov, him talking you through it ofc, filthy but so much fluff, Joel is just so in love ugh

w/c: 4.4k

a/n: not sure what came over me with this one but omg I had fun with it and I’m now obsessed with writing from his pov. As always, I'm so greatful for everyone who reads and interacts with this, thank u all 🩷

my masterlist

Joel has never been good at falling asleep at a reasonable time. But he doesn’t really mind staying up when you’re sleeping so peacefully next to him.

He’s lying on his back on the left side of your bed, one arm bent and resting on the pillow above his head with the other one draped over your shoulders. You’re curled into his side, your cheek smushed against his chest, small, warm puffs of air diffusing across his bare skin with each deep and steady breath you take.

He tried to fall asleep when you did a few hours ago, but the scenes from earlier that night played on a constant loop in his head keeping him wide awake. Visions of you across from him at the dinner table, head tilted back leaving your neck exposed for his viewing as you laughed at his stupid joke. The fresh memory of him pinning you against your front door as soon as the two of you stumbled inside, kissing you hard and tasting the wine on your tongue as you moaned into his mouth. He keeps coming back to the specific image of being buried deep inside of you, your heels digging into his back and his large palm pressed over your mouth in a feeble attempt to stop at least some of the noise from traveling through the thin walls to your neighbor’s apartment. But the dents and scrapes in the paint on the wall behind your headboard are clear evidence of those failed attempts.

After spilling inside of you and sending you over the edge for a third time that night, he had barely managed to get you in the shower. Once there, your soft moans echoed in the steamy bathroom as he took his sweet time pulling one more orgasm from you with two fingers sliding languidly in and our of your sore and swollen pussy.

“Need lotion” you had mumbled as he dried you off with a fluffy towel. He chuckled and intercepted your reach for the bottle of lotion, picking it up himself instead. He had to practically carry you out to the bed, where he smoothed his warm hands all over your body, rubbing the lavender lotion into nearly every inch of your skin. You were already snoring softly by the time he finished.

And now he’s here, watching your curtains flow gently in the breeze from the open window as you sleep peacefully right next to him, the smell of lavender and the cool autumn air relaxing both his mind and body.

You always kept your bedroom cool, especially when Joel was with you. Joel always radiates heat, but he was a human furnace in the bed next to you. And It wouldn’t be as bad if he didn’t insist on cuddling throughout the night, subconsciously reaching out in his sleep and pulling you in closer every time you started to stray away until you woke up sticky with sweat. Joel doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t mind the press of your tacky skin against his and in fact, he craves it when you’re not with him.

The streetlight right outside your bedroom window filters in through the curtains that are rustling in the breeze, slivers of pale light briefly illuminating different areas of your room. He tries to commit it all to memory: the makeup and jewelry cluttered on your vanity, the same vanity that he bent you over two weeks ago and made you watch as he fucked you until your legs were jelly and you could barely stand, the tight dress that he practically tore off your body earlier that evening now bunched up in a small heap on the floor in the corner, the various knickknacks and trinkets on the small bookshelf in the corner of the room, the seemingly ever growing collection of candles on your dresser.

He’s only been in here a handful of times. The two of you usually end up at his house where you can take advantage of being as loud as you want. But your apartment in the city had some practical advantages. Like tonight, where after a little too much red wine at dinner, neither of you were in any condition to drive back to his house. So, the only option was to walk the few blocks back to your apartment, both you giggling like idiots with his arm wrapped protectively around your waist and his jacket draped over your shoulders.

He studies the pictures on your wall too. There’s the framed photos from the trips you’ve told him about, pictures from the mountains in Colorado where you nearly passed out from the reduced oxygen levels, and the picture of the Amalfi coast taken from the boat on which you unfortunately discovered for the first time just how prone you are to seasickness. His gaze lingers on the pictures of you with your friends and family, your infectious smile making you the center of attention in all of them.

Then his mind starts to wander, maybe a bit too far, but he doesn’t exactly want to stop thinking about how everything would fit in his house. He thinks about your candles on top of his dresser, how he would move around the furniture in his room so that he could fit your vanity in a spot that catches the most natural lighting. He imagines your framed pictures hanging in his hallway or propped up on the shelves in his living room. A subtle smile spreads on his lips when he envisions your soft blankets spread over his bed, and his heart beats just a little faster at the thought of the two of you sharing a closet, your clothes mixing with his. He wonders if his room would smell like your lavender lotion too.

He's pulled back to reality when you make a small, soft noise. He looks down at you, worried that he somehow woke you up. But your breathing is still steady and your face is peaceful and relaxed. He figures that you’re probably in the middle of a dream and he wonders what it’s about. A small, maybe selfish, part of him hopes that it’s about him. Then you start to shift, and he lifts his arm from your shoulders, giving you just enough room to roll over onto your other side until your back is pressed against his side instead.

He fixes your eyes now on your side profile, the shadows and light from outside dancing across your face. He trails his gaze from your hairline to the slope of your nose to the perfect curve of your slightly parted lips. He tries to memorize all of that too, though most of it is already ingrained deep in his brain.

He stares shamelessly for another minute or two until you make another small sound, another signal that you’re dreaming. Except this time he doesn’t have to wonder too much what it’s about, not with the way that you push your hips back against him with another small sound that sounds all too familiar following in quick succession.

Joel’s entire body tenses as he looks at you, his cock already twitching underneath your linen sheets. He stays completely still, watching you and waiting to see if you’ll move again. After a few painstakingly long seconds later, you make another sound. And he’s not sure if it’s all in his head but it sounds almost like his name.

Logically, he knows that he should probably just let you sleep. You get just as grumpy as he does if you don’t get your full 8 hours. But after a few more seconds, another sound slips out of you, a desperate garble of “Joel” much clearer this time but still thick with sleep.

And that’s his greenlight.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he starts to scoot down the bed, movements slow and calculated as not to rouse you. He carefully moves his arm from where it’s draped over your shoulders and slides it under your neck instead before rolling over onto his side. He closes the centimeter gap between your bare bodies until your soft skin is pressed against his under the safety and warmth of your sheets and blanket.

He snakes his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer so that your ass is pressed firmly into the cradle of his pelvis. He buries his face in your hair that’s cascading down the side of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He skates his fingers mindlessly over your stomach, his own skin heating up just at the sensation of your soft skin under his fingertips. He tries to resist the urge to roll his hips up against you. He wants to stay in this calm peacefulness for as long as possible and he’s fully aware that once he starts, there’s a very slim chance that he’ll be able to stop.

But his efforts are thwarted when you push your hips back again, unconsciously grinding your ass against his half-hard cock with another sweet sound slipping from your lips. He sighs quietly against your neck but stays still, exerting the last ounce of his self-control.

As if moving on their own accord, his fingertips slide further down until they’re ghosting over the crease of your thigh. He’s eternally grateful that you refused to put on any clothes before falling asleep, which, now in hindsight, was clear foreshadowing of what’s currently happening.

He moves his whole hand between your thighs to cup your sex and dips two fingertips between your folds and mouths a silent “fuck” at the copious amount of slick that quickly coats them. Still in the grips of deep sleep, you shift your legs to give him better access. He smiles. Your body is always so receptive to his touch.

With a soft groan, he gently prods at your dripping entrance, taking his time to feel how swollen you still are from when you were stretched so perfectly around him just a few hours ago. But you interrupt him with a soft whimper, your hips moving against him once again and he chuckles silently. Still so needy and impatient as ever, even in your sleep.

But he can’t deny you, he never really can. He’s wrapped so tightly around your finger that he’d do anything you’d ask of him in a heartbeat without a single second thought. It’s almost worrisome, how easily he caves into you, how you wipe every rational thought clean out of his mind, how in just a matter of a few days you so easily managed to knock down the walls around his heart that he spent decades building. But all those thoughts just fade into noise when he’s with you. Especially with you like this.

So, he gathers a generous amount of your wetness on his fingers and drags them up to your clit. Your body immediately reacts with a jolt of your hips and a louder moan. Joel curses under his breath when you back your ass up against him even further, his length now fully hard pressing against your bare ass, precum starting to slowly seep from his tip and smear against your soft, supple skin.

He trails his fingers back to your entrance. Forehead pressed against the nape of your neck With a long sigh, his breath warm and humid on the back of your neck, he slowly sinks one in finger. His eyes slip closed and his eyebrows draw together as he slowly drags his finger in and out of your dripping hole. He nearly whimpers when he adds a second finger, your walls fluttering and slick leaking down his fingers to his knuckles. “Fuuuck, baby” Joel whispers his lips just barely brushing your skin as your walls clench around him.

He works you open on his two thick fingers – not that you really need it after taking his cock like that earlier. But he’s obsessed with the sleepy sighs and soft moans you’re making. And he’s barely aware of the fact that he’s now moving his hips, gently rolling them against your ass in a subconscious attempt to relieve the pressure in his groin. He pants against your neck, already feeling so delirious and drunk on you and your body like a horned up teenager. He’s never felt this way with anyone else, so affected by you. He can hardly control himself when he’s with you, it’s like he’s a raw, exposed wire and you’re the spark that sets him ablaze in an instant.

He curls his fingertips and the way your hips immediately rock back lets him know he’s there. Your moans are more frequent and just a bit louder as he strokes your spot, a fresh wave of your wetness gushing around his fingers and dripping down to his palm. But he doesn’t want to wake you up yet, not when he has every intention of waking you up when he’s buried balls deep inside of you.

So he exercises his last bit of self-control, sliding his fingers out and dragging them back up to your clit again, tracing a few more lazily circles before pulling his hand away completely.

With his fingers and palm soaked in your slick, he tilts his hips back just enough to make enough room to wrap his hand around his cock. He hisses quietly through clenched teeth at the contact, and he can’t resist a few strokes, spreading your arousal up and down his length. After a few passes, he moves his hand from his cock to your top leg, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up til it’s bent at a 90 degree angle. Now with unobstructed access, he fists himself again and lines himself up with your dripping entrance.

He sinks in nice and slow, letting out a deep groan from the back of his throat. He drapes his arm around your middle, pulling you in close to him as he moves his hips with shallow thrusts and noses along your neck, pressing kisses along the underside of your jaw and sighing heavily once he’s nestled all the way inside you.

The thought of staying still just like this, falling asleep to the feeling of your slippery walls squeezing him so tight like this crosses his mind for a brief moment. But you soon start to stir in his hold and the sound of your sudden, sharp inhale signals that you’re regaining consciousness.

He presses his lips to the back of your neck while he patiently waits for you to come to your senses. It takes a couple seconds for you to regain control of your limbs, and when you do, you reflexively try to move from his grasp, but he tightens his arm around your middle and holds you in place. “Shh, baby” Joel whispers in your ear. “I’ve gotcha”

You immediately surrender, relaxing in his hold with a quiet hum. His chest is pressed against your back, heat radiating off of him and putting you on the verge of sweating. But it feels so safe the broad expanse nearly completely encompasses you like he’s shielding you from the rest of the world. But you don’t have much time to focus on that, the feeling of the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix creating much more pressing needs.

“Dreamin’ of me, weren’t you?” Joel asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. You answer with a sleepy whine as you move to grind your hips down, nudging his cock half an inch deeper. “Sound so sweet moanin’ in your sleep” he continues, his hand slides up from your stomach to your chest, cupping one breast and gently rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “moanin’ my name.”

You whimper and wiggle your hips as he presses a kiss just behind your ear. “Joel” you mumble, pushing your hips back in an attempt to get him to move. “Yeah, sounded just like that” Joel grunts as he starts to slowly pull out, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear, undoubtedly sending tingles rushing down your spine.

He keeps his arm under your neck, your head resting on his bicep while his forearm crosses your chest, his hand gripping your shoulder. He has you in a loose headlock, grunting softly near your ear as he fills you up again and groaning when he bottoms out once again.

“Always so fuckin’ tight and wet no matter how many times I stretch you out, huh? Always so ready for me.”

All you can manage is a pathetic whimper while you bring a hand up to hold onto his forearm across your chest. He keeps a slow pace, his breath hitching in your ear every time he bottoms out. You feel unbelievable wrapped around him like this, white-hot tingles shooting all the way up his spine at the sensation of his cockhead dragging along your warm, wet walls as you clamp down around him like a vice.

He wants to savor it, wants to relax into this moment for as long as possible. But you’re needy, he can feel it now with the way you're squeezing him and practically sucking him back in every time he pulls out. And his own heady desperation is starting to cloud his vision as he slowly fucks you, your tired body loose and pliant under his touch. He needs to make you come again, needs to feel you shake and squirm, needs you to make him come.

With a soft groan, he allows himself to start moving faster. His lips easily find the junction of your neck and collarbone where he immediately starts nibbling and gently sucking at the thin skin, claiming what’s rightfully his and shivering when you tighten around him.

He tries his best to keep a gentle pace, not wanting to jostle you around too much. Except your breathy whimpers are so sweet and your sleepy whines sound so angelic that he can hardly keep it together.

He tightens his grip on your shoulder, the muscles in his arm flexing gently under your palm as he locks you in place and starts to really fuck you. He moves his hand from your beast, smoothing his calloused palm down your side to your ass then palms at your cheek, grabbing a few greedy handfuls before pushing it up to give himself more space to move.

Goosebumps break out across his skin when you let out a long, drawn out moan and dig your nails into his forearm, leaving crescent-shaped dents in his skin. A not-so-small part of him hopes that you break the skin so he can admire the small purple and red marks in the morning.

“Goddamnit, baby” Joel pants as he snaps his hips, filling you to the brim. “You feel so fuckin’ good. So perfect like this.” Every few thrusts he pauses when he’s all the way inside and grinds against you, his eyes rolling back his skull when you push your hips back at the same time, multiplying the intended effect. .

“S’this what you were dreamin’ of?” Joel rasps, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “Huh, baby? S’your little pussy so needy that you can’t help but dream about me fillin’ it up?” You answer in the form of a moan with your walls pulsating around him. He keeps his steady pace, the slick sounds of him sliding in and out of you floating around in your quiet bedroom.

“Attagirl” Joel sighs when your moans start to get louder. Your hips are starting to buck and swivel, and your chest heaves with every ragged breath you take. He places hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he can access until he reaches the nape of your neck again. You whine his name, sleepy and desperate, and he shudders at the sound.

“Just keep takin’ it, baby, just like that. Doin’ such a good job.” he whispers. “My good girl…always takes everything I give her. Even in her fuckin’ sleep”

Then suddenly your hand is on top of his where it’s resting on your ass. You grip his palm and move his hand to where it was a couple of minutes ago between your thighs, only letting go when he presses two fingers to your clit and starts tracing those lazy circles again. His cock twitches inside of you, the thought of you knowing exactly what you want and demanding it, even when you’re still half asleep, drives him crazy.

With his eyes still closed and eyebrows drawn together, he sucks a sharp breath through clenched teeth and focuses on both the feeling of effortlessly gliding in and out of your sweet pussy combined with the feeling of your clit pulsing under his fingertips.

He fucking loves it. There’s not a single scenario that he could possibly conjure up in his head where he would ever be tired of this. He takes pride in it too, knowing exactly how to reduce you to a squirming mess in less than five minutes, or how to take his time, slowly breaking you down until every thought in your brain is replaced with just JoelJoelJoel. He knows your body better than his own: the way you arch your back when he tweaks your nipples just right, how you melt when he kisses that one spot on your neck, the exact patterns he needs to trace on your clit to get you to come in nearly 30 seconds.

That is all committed to memory. All of it’s burned to his brain and plastered underneath his eyelids. And just like clockwork, after a few seconds of his fingers pressed against your clit, your thighs start to shake around his hand.

“Ohh there you go, sweetheart” Joel groans, both his fingers and his hips moving faster. “C’mon, baby” he urges, voice strained and tight in his throat as he tries to keep himself together. “Cum on my cock, need to f-fuck oh god need to feel it, baby. Know you’re close, angel just give it to me.”

That’s all it takes to send you flying over the edge. He holds you impossibly tight against him as you tremble and shake, his pace not faltering even once. He’s on cloud fucking nine with you whimpering and moaning his name while your walls pulsate and choke his cock. His breath is hot and humid against your sweaty skin, panting as he tries to stave off his own release for as long as possible.

“Fuckin christ, babygirl” he growls, as he fucks you through it, not giving you a single chance to catch your breath. “That’s it, such a good fuckin girl. Just like that. Keep squeezin’ me just like that, angel”

Even with the way you're milking his cock, squeezing him for all that he’s worth, he thinks he could last for at least another minute or two. That is until you snake an arm up and reach blindly behind you, your hand immediately finding his hair, fingers locking around the tousled strains and pulling. He chokes out a gasp, the tingling sensation traveling from his scalp all the way down to the base of his spine. His hips stutter and he can only handle a couple more uneven thrusts before he pulls out. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against your lower back as he spills hot ropes of cum onto your skin with shameless, breathy whimpers. He keeps rocking his hips with small movements, grinding his cock into the wet mess on the small of your back, extending the euphoria until his limbs are jerking from the sensitivity.

His forehead is pressed against your neck once again, his warm breath diffusing down your back as he pants a breathless “Jesus christ.”

You hum weakly next to him, melting in his arms as you sleep starts to creep back into your body once again. He keeps holding you tight against him as you both catch your breath.

“Were you awake that whole time?” you ask quietly after a moment of silence. Joel chuckles and squeezes you even tighter in his arms.

“Mhmm. Told you you were moanin’ in your sleep”

Even with his eyes closed in the dark room, he can see the frown you’re sporting clear as day in his head. You try to turn over to look at him, but he keeps you in place.

“You have work in the morning, why didn’t you say anything?” you ask. “Could’ve made things more comfortable for you, I know your old-man back doesn’t like my mattress.”

Joel rolls his eyes and pinches your thigh, making you yelp and giggle.

“Couldn’t be more comfortable than this even if I tried, sweetheart” he whispers. “Now go back to sleep.”

“Can’t sleep with the human fireplace glued to me” you whisper back. “And I’d love if I didn’t have cum stains on my sheet in the morning”

Joel rolls his eyes again but can’t suppress the stupid grin creeping up on his face. He reluctantly lets you go, sliding his arm out from under your neck and letting you roll over onto your stomach. He takes extra care to lift the blanket and pushes it down to your thighs, trying his hardest to not stain your precious sheets. You turn your head to face him, but your eyes are still closed, your face so sleepy where it’s squished against the pillow, your lips curved in a gentle, sated smile. His heart feels like it could burst right out of his chest.

He leans over to place a sweet kiss to your hairline before carefully crawling out of the bed. He hisses at the cool air swirling around his hot skin as he pads to the bathroom. He comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans you up and then himself before crawling back into the bed.

He pulls the blankets back up and makes sure you’re all tucked in before settling on his side, facing you. He doesn’t take you back in his arms, not yet. He’ll find you in his sleep. But he does hook one of his ankles around yours, the small amount of touch that you’ll always allow. Exhaustion is finally starting to settle into his bones as he studies your features like he’s going to be tested on them in his dreams. His eyelids finally feel heavy and he lets them close, his breathing quickly falling into a deep, steady pace.

He’s nearly fully asleep when he hears the soft sound of you whispering again.

“Oh and we’re gonna have to reenact the dream I was having when we wake up. Was really nice.”

Joel grunts, his cock already starting to stir once again.

Thank you for reading :)) hope you enjoyed it!!

#Joel miller smut #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #Joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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theostrophywife · 4 months ago

Note

Sleepy sex with lorenzo 🫠

lorenzo stumbles into his dorm room, smiling softly to himself when he sees you sound asleep in his bed. after the endless drills that draco made him run through tonight, enzo was more than ready to join you. careful not to disturb you, he places his broom and bag in the corner of the room before drawing the sheets back.

his heart swells when he sees you wearing one of his jumpers, the hem of it skimming your bare legs. enzo quietly crawls in next to you, tugging you close until your back is pressed against his chest. his still damp hair tickles your cheek as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck, blinking sleepily as he breathes in your familiar scent.

humming, enzo caresses your thighs, marveling at the soft and supple skin. his big hands move to cup your ass, gently squeezing before he places you right over his front, the bulge in his sweats growing harder by the minute. your boyfriend trails hot and needy kisses along your neck as he grinds his erection against your ass, breathing heavily as he fondles you.

his breathing grows ragged as he cups your tits, massaging the soft tissue before twisting your nipples. enzo leans over to see that you're still sound asleep, none the wiser to his sinful intentions. you look so innocent and peaceful, your face buried in his pillow while you snore softly. seeing you in such a vulnerable state, entirely at his mercy, makes all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock.

despite how tired he is, despite how depraved it is, enzo just can't help himself. before he can think better of it, your boyfriend palms you over your panties, groaning when he feels you soaking through the fabric. cursing, he pulls the fabric to the side before teasing along your slit with his middle finger. your pussy is wet and warm, your body reacting to him even whilst unconscious. his finger sinks in easily, the tightness of your walls suctioning him in, making him moan as he adds another. you stir as he curls his fingers within your gummy walls, feeling you soak him with your arousal.

"en—enz, is that you?"

"shh, it's okay, honey. you're just dreaming." enzo cooes soothingly into your ear, placating you as he tugs his sweatpants down. "go back to sleep, my love."

freed from the constraints, his throbbing cock slaps against his stomach and smears his abs with precum. enzo guides your hand over his hard length, watching in awe as you stroke him. your eyes are half-closed, but the muscle memory takes over as you jerk him off, murmuring his name ever so softly.

enzo is aching, his head is spinning, he feels as though he'll die if he delays another second of feeling your velvety walls hugging around him like a lover's embrace. he wanted — no — he needed to be inside of you right now.

your boyfriend doesn't waste another second. enzo grunts as he pushes the tip of his cock at your entrance, parting your folds while you clench and squeeze around him. merlin, it feels like fucking heaven as he sinks in, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as you take inch after inch. enzo nearly chokes when he's finally fully sheathed, filling you to the brim.

"you don't know what you do to me, pretty girl," enzo says shakily. "I missed you so fucking much. just need to feel you, baby."

slowly, he pulls out before slamming back in again. and again. and again.

the dark and primal side of him awakens with every thrust, the hunger for you growing like a festering wound as he scrambles to satiate his need. enzo grips your throat possessively, his fingers leaving bruises while the head of his cock kisses your cervix. overcome with pleasure, your eyes flutter open, dazed and confused at the scene unfolding before you.

"missed you, baby," you babbled, glancing behind you to find enzo smiling. you thought you were dreaming, but the reality of it was so much sweeter.

you loved waking up to find enzo filling you up, his lips a hot brand against yours while he claims you with a filthy, sloppy kiss. as his thumb circles around your clit, you whimper into his mouth, feeling the familiar warmth spread from your core.

"gonna let me cum inside you like a good girl, honey?"

“please, please — oh! i want you to fill me up. oh god — please fill me up, wanna be full of you, enzo.“

#call a fucking ambulance I need to be rushed to the nearest hospital asap #divider credit: adornedwithlight #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire smut

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chocsra · 10 months ago

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chuuya wakes up to the unfortunately shared bed of your checked in hotel that the port mafia assigned you to. he's begrudgingly slept next to you, the redhead never wanted to invade a woman's privacy like that but doing anything else would be suspicious, it'd be odd for an alleged married couple not to share a bed.

he scans his eyes to your sleeping figure, your blanket rumpled all over your legs, the rest of your body sprawled out in a comfortable but messy position as your eyes remained fluttered shut. chuuya noticed the sliver of your shirt exposing your stomach as he swallows thickly with conviction.

he'd rather not touch you in any way but, he feels like it's wrong to just leave you there. so, with a calculated and gentle tug, he pulls the hem of your shirt down to cover your exposed stomach. unbeknownst to the ginger, your eyes flutter open as you rub them, your hair splayed out against the pillow lifting as you lift your head in confusion.

"what the fuck!--" you jolt up from his once cautious movements, and swiftly slap him on the face, making him wince, though written all over his face was: 'i deserved that.' you quickly pulled your shirt down and covered yourself with a blanket. "wait, no!-- it wasn't like that!" chuuya stumbles all over his words, a pink tint spreading to the apples of his cheeks and ears, even to the tip of his nose as he tries to explain himself frustratingly.

"i was just trying to pull your shirt down." he explains, rubbing his cheek pensively, watching as you glare at him suspiciously. "what was that look for then?' you retort, lips tugging into an annoyed frown. "hey, what am i supposed to look like when i wake up in the middle of my sleep?" the man huffs, looking around the dim room, trying to cover his embarrassment. you scan your eyes on him with malice, though you know he isn't that type of guy, nor did he seem anything but sincere. an overcoming silence fills the room, before you begrudgingly break it.

"why aren't you sleeping? aren't you worried about tomorrow's assignment?" you question quietly, the redhead scoffs in return, "me? no way. you just keep tossing in your sleep." he retorts, before attempting to lay down and sleep again, although, he jolts up again. "do you know much you move in your goddamn sleep?? you're keeping me up." chuuya claims, pointing around to the loose ends of the shared room, making you scoff in bafflement. "are you crazy?" you rhetorically question, biting your inner cheek pensively, "why are you even observing me while i sleep?"

from the former accused actions of the mafioso, he did seem like a creep right now. a pink tint blends in his cheeks a more noticeable shade once again as he scowls, "it's not my fault! you kept slapping me while i was trying to sleep." chuuya claims once again, making you scowl in return, "you're no better. you kept snoring and cursing out dazai!" the redhead huffs as if he were deeply offended by your words. "i wonder who you're gonna share a bed with in the future -- god save him!" chuuya grumbles in annoyance one more time before flopping to sleep, facing away from you, shutting his eyes as you do the same.

but chuuya definitely needs to be saved right now. for the countless times he's woke up tonight, now, your arms are curled around his waist, cheek squished against his back. "[Y/N].." the redhead mutters, pulling your arms away, feigning a raspy sigh as you halt but quickly return to encircling your arms around him. he drops his head from looking at you, shuffling his body so that you feel uncomfortable hugging him. but nothing works.

then your hands lock and tighten together like you're going to preform some sort of clinch, so chuuya quickly turns around to face you, making sure he doesn't die. "you're impossible.." he murmurs with a pout tugging on his lips - if blushing was a sport, chuuya would've won the Olympics because of you. your head was rested on his back, now it's his chest as you curl your arms around him even tighter.

the redhead brushes some loose strands of hair out of your face, sighing intently, before encircling his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer so you can't toss around and slap him in your sleep. if it meant to stop you from moving so much, chuuya would gladly have you sleep in arms, or so he tells himself, because he really wouldn't let anyone else pull that at all. he buries his face in your shoulder as he exhales, feeling the moon soak over the remaining hours of the night.

"don't be mad when you wake up, 'kay? this is your fault." chuuya mutters one last time before drifting off to a peaceful sleep, for the first time in forever since he's shared a bed with you. but, as grumpy as he his - he's lucky that he gets to hold you while doing so.

#yes i based this off vagabond #don't take this as my writing comeback! it's just a drabble i thought of randomly #I'll put my soul in my other projects #but like i have so much I haven't completed #chocsra #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader #fem reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #drabble

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korebringerofded · 1 year ago

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Late Night Talking- Choso X F!Reader

Summary- Imagine Choso going out for drinks with his brother and coming back craving you Warnings- Dirty talk (LOTS) soft!dom!Choso, mention of alcohol, smut, very little plot, shameless smut, oral, fingering (F!Receiving) slight breeding kink at the end, no use of y/n, fem pet names (good girl, princess etc) So many spelling errors, will edit later. I'm lying

A/N- Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated and keep me going All requests are always open and you can find my entire masterlist here Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it!!

Choso is stumbling through the house, he tosses his keys onto the counter with a soft clink while tugging his shoes and his coat off. Choso, quite regrettably, reeked of alcohol, his body felt heavy and he only had one thing on his mind, you.

He had basically spent the entire evening annoying the absolute shit out of his younger brother, Yuji. They were supposed to be celebrating Yuji’s birthday but Choso had instead spent the entire night talking about his beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend, you.

You awoke to your boyfriend's face burying into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he spooned you. You were only partially awake, but you could still feel Choso’s already hardened dick pressing against your ass and thighs. He pressed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, his lips lingering with each messy kiss he pressed as his hot breath fanned over your neck. It was like he was trying to savor your warmth, the taste of your skin. The pads of his fingers traced circles over your hips, his fingers slipping under your thin shirt so he could feel your skin.

“Mmm…you smell like a liquor store. Did you have fun?” You mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawned.

“Mhmm…missed you, though.” Choso sighed deeply, taking in the wonderful scent of your shampoo as his eyes fluttered shut.

Your presence was like a security blanket for the half-curse, you had shown him a type of love and comfort he hadn’t ever thought possible and now, now Choso was completely and totally addicted. He couldn’t go more than a few hours without being buried into your perfect pussy, his fat, red tip hitting against your gummy walls as your walls sucked him in with lewd, wet noises.

“Yeah?” You tilted your head back to look up at him, a sleepy smile on your face as the dim moonlight shone in through the curtains.

“I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Pretty sure I was driving Yujii crazy. I couldn't stop talking about you and your pretty face.” Choso murmured, his hand grabbing your jaw with a soft sigh so he could force your sleepy eyes to lock with his.

His other hand moved to your hip, his thick fingers slipping under the band of your thin cotton shorts, a soft groan escaping your very very drunk boyfriend's lips as his head tilted back.

“No panties, sweetness? You’re just trying to drive me insane, aren’t you?” Choso moaned in a husky voice as he rubbed small, tight circles on your hip.

“Maybe I am…” You giggled softly, your voice cracking as you felt your boyfriend's thick fingers push and curl at the entrance of your cunt.

“Fuck, how are you so wet for me already?” Choso chuckled, his voice was hoarse and low as he spoke, his warm breath fanning over your neck.

His fingers danced over your puffy clit, dragging his fingers up and down, dragging the growing slick over your clit before shoving his index finger into your folds, his eyes watching your hips twitch and your sweet desire dripping down your thighs and his fingers, soaking the shorts you still wore.

You were already a complete mess, lip trembling as Choso shoved another finger into your pussy, your clit twitching and throbbing as Choso’s thumb brushed over the bud in painfully slow circles.

The room was immediately filled with wet, lewd sounds that only made your head spin more. You were already so close, his fingers curling and bruising that spongy sweet spot over and over again. You were starting to feel dizzy, your eyes rolling back as you tried to tug on his wrist with a soft whine.

“C-cho,s-stop, don’t wanna cum yet.” You pleaded, looking at him over your shoulder with glossy tears on your lashes.

“You think I’m gonna be content watching you cum one time?” Choso laughed, swatting your hand away as he went back to pumping and curling his fingers into your cunt, your walls sucking up his fingers as the palm of his hand brushed over your clit.

“My sweet, sweet girl. So good for me.” Choso cooed softly, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he pressed his boner against your plush ass, he couldn’t help but rut against you, looking for any relief for his painfully hard cock.

“Wanna feel you gush all over my hand, can you do that for me?” He mumbled softly,

“Y-yes, Cho.” You whimpered, tugging your shorts off as you did.

“That’s my good girl. You’re gonna cum on my hand, then I wanna watch you cum all over my cock, can you handle that, beautiful?” Choso asked as he turned you so you were flat on your back, his fingers leaving you feeling empty in the process.

You couldn’t help but whine a bit at the loss of him, a soft pout tugging at your lips which only made Choso let out a dark and low chuckle.

Your face was hot and your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked up at your boyfriend. It never ceases to surprise you how attractive Choso is, lips glossy, dark messy hair which was down (as it always was when he slept) over his pale face and dark eyes, his muscular shoulders and arms basking in the moonlight.

“Words, baby. I need to hear you say it.” Choso sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and alcohol-induced pink cheeks as his fingers brushed over your cheek.

“Y-yes, please, I need you.” You managed to stammer out.

That seemed to please your very drunk half-curse boyfriend.

Choso spent the rest of the night between your perfect thighs, he made you cum in his hand so much your slick pooled in Choso’s palm and all over the sheets. After he was pleased with your trembling legs he settled himself between your thighs.

He pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing clit and the folds of your pussy, licking long strips up and down your slit, the sweet taste of your desire only making Choso’s cock harder, he was practically grinding his clothed bulge against the mattress with a low groan leaving his lips.

You had tears running down your cheeks, the thick scent of sweat and sex filling the bedroom with the soft muffled noise of Choso’s tongue fucking into your socked folds, his tongue poking and prodigy, his cheeks pressed against your thighs as his thumb brushed over your now aching, swollen clit.

“P-please, wanna cum with you. Want t-to feel you cum inside me.” You managed to croak out, your voice slightly trembling as your fingers were tangled deep in Choso’s messy hair, tugging at the roots which only made Choso groan and press his face even deeper into your soaked cunt, his nose brushin your clit with his thumb as he fucked you on his tongue, your hips moving as you grinded against his face.

That was all you had to say, Choso’s face was covered in your slick, shiny and glistening in the dimly lit room as he gripped your hips and tugged you down to the edge of the bed where he stood between your legs.

You watched with half-lidded and tear-soaked eyes as Choso tugged his clothes away, his moonlight- pale and muscle-littered body was enough to make your head spin, his dark and curly happy trail cascading down his muscular body and ending at the base of his thick and intimidating cock was enough to make drool form in your throat.

“You’re so pretty…” Choso sighed, running his hands down your naked body, his fingers gently pinching and rolling your pretty nipples. “You gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl?”

Choso would have your knees pushed to your chest, your eyes rolled back and your perfect lips formed into a small o as Choso’s cock fucked deep into your plush and twitching walls, your cunt tightening around him as his balls hit against your ass in a lewd, loud echo through the room.

Choso couldn’t decide what he wanted to look at, every part of you was perfect to him. Your face was contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks pink, your slick-soaked pussy which sucked and hugged his dick so well it took everything in him not to cum the second his dick was burying in your sweet, tight folds.

You always knew Choso was getting close when he couldn’t stop rambling, praises and filthy words, curses falling out of his mouth faster than he could even process it himself.He turned into a whimpering, whining mess like he was the one getting fucked into next week, (The nerve)

“Mmmm…fuck you’re so tight.”

“Fuck- Look at you, so pretty. You take me so well.” Choso moaned, his face red and forehead damp with sweat.

“You feel s-so good, princess.”

“You are m-milking my cock, baby.” Choso whined, his head falling back.

“Better be lucky you’re on the pill or I would fuck a baby into this pussy. Here and now.” Choso growled.

Choso’s face was hot as his hips slammed against yours, his thick and rough hands wrapped around your thighs to keep them spread so he could watch the creamy base of his dick slide in and out of you, the wet squelch sounds growing louder and louder.

“God damn…I’m so close” Choso huffed, sounding more desperate than he had intended.

Choso’s hips started to move more sloppily against yours, his hands pushing your knees further into your chest as his breath started to fan out over your neck, his dick still hitting against that sweet spot of your walls, the tip bruising and bruising your cervix as Choso was panting in the crook of your neck, his heavy balls hitting against your ass as he fucked parts of you that you originally didn’t think possible.

He came with a loud, unashamed moan as his fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to bruise as he bottomed out inside of you, deep in your gummy walls that tightened so deliciously around his cock. His thick, creamy load filled your already soaked cunt, spurts of cum leaking down your thighs as you came with him, the pleasure and heat finally boiling over you, your head falling back as you felt Choso fuck his seed back into your cunt, his dick twitching and his groans were so loud you were sure the neighbors would hear.

You were both spent, panting and laying sprawled out over the bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, both covered in white ropes of seed and slick. Choso ran his fingers through your hair, down your cheeks and jaw, like you were the most perfect piece of art he had ever seen.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” Choso mumbled softly, nuzzling his face into your neck.

A/N- Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated and keep me going All requests are always open and you can find my entire masterlist here

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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(totally not being self-indulgent rn) carlos seems like he'd be such a good listener with reader!girlfriend. she'd be the kind of person who's so quiet but chances are, when they're alone and he's got her curled up in his arms, she's going to talk about is whatever's happened in her latest read. he'd just be so patient with her and just listen to her ramble on. and sometimes, after a bad weekend, the one thing that can calm him down is her voice and her stories

this was so cute and i had to write something on it🥹thank you for sending this in!🫶🏽

It almost felt poetic to have a shitty ending to a shitty season, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the whole weekend.

He was pissed. He was pissed when the tires started to feel shit. He was pissed when his race engineer kept reassuring him that they would pit soon. He was pissed when he was called into box at the last laps and practically gave up what was already a shitty position. He was fucking pissed when he ended the last race of the season in P18.

He tried to grin and bear it. He took pictures with the team, he went through the debrief, he celebrated Charles finishing P2. He tried to just pretend like it wasn’t bothering him, like it wasn’t bubbling inside him just waiting to burst and blow up in his face.

He had feigned exhaustion and a headache, leaving the club far earlier than anybody else even if it was at around one in the morning. He had stumbled into his hotel room, dragging his feet and even though he had only had a drink or two, his body felt like it was already on the brink of a hangover.

He pulled off his clothes and fell back onto the bed, his eyes falling shut but sleep wasn’t an option for his racing mind. There was only one thing he wanted, but it was miles away and the mere idea of it made his chest feel like it was caving in.

So, he did the next best thing.

“If this is a drunk call, just know that I will be using whatever you say against sober you.”

Carlos felt the tightness in his chest ease as your voice sounded through his phone, his eyes falling shut as he let out a hum. “You always do.”

“You seem tired.” There was a pause, and he could almost imagine the adorable pout on your lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he answered honestly, because he didn’t want to talk about it. He had spent the last few hours constantly talking about it: in debriefs, in interviews, in conversations with other drivers. He hadn’t stopped talking about his shit race and the fact his whole strategy was relying on a probability of a safety car happening, and now he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Even for a few minutes. “I just wanna hear you talk.”

“Hear me talk?”

“Yeah, I saw you finished another book,” he commented, a vague memory of a notification popping up on his phone at your Goodreads account being updated. “Tell me about it.”

“Stalker.”

He snorted. “How else can I know which books to buy you?”

“I’ll never finish my TBR! I don’t even have enough space for all the books you buy me.”

“Then I’ll buy you a library, amor,” he hummed, his body sinking into the bed. “Tell me about it. What happened? Who do we like? Who do we dislike?”

There were a few beats of silence before you gave in, before you began rambling about characters and plots and little things that irked you enough to make you rant away to your boyfriend.

He listened with a smile, just taking in the sound of your voice and your enthusiasm as he reminded himself he would have you in his arms in less than twenty-four hours, and this season truly would be behind him.

#carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 month ago

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For What You've Done

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 4. non-consensual body modifications Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Past Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader, witch!reader, f!reader Summary: Five months ago, the love of your life was killed in a car accident. In the aftermath of Jake's death, you and Rooster lean on each other to deal with your grief and soon become a couple. So when you suggest a camping trip together, Rooster agrees. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? Word Count: 5773 TW: Main Character Death, Whump, Non-Consensual Body Modifications, Witchcraft, Car Crash, Drugged, Resurrection, Betrayal, Possession, Vomiting, Language Notes: A huge thanks to @sunlightmurdock for beta reading this! 💗 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event!

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

“Now can you tell me why it was so important we came to this spot on this night? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for spending a few days camping under the stars with you, but the middle of the week when it’s supposed to be fucking freezing isn’t maybe the ideal time.”

Bradley glances over at the passenger seat of his Bronco where you are currently gazing out the window at the trees flashing by.

You turn your head towards him with a smile and take his hand from where it is leaning on the armrest between your two seats. Giving it a tight squeeze, you say, “I told you, it’s a surprise. But I promise, it’ll be worth it, you just have to trust me.”

“You know I do.” Bradley’s eyes have returned to the almost non-existent road in front of him, but he raises your hand to his lips and places a quick kiss on the back of it. You giggle softly as his mustache brushes against your skin and he wiggles it to make you giggle again.

Bradley’s heart soars seeing you this happy again, even if these moments are fleeting. Before the accident, you seemed to carry the sunshine with you everywhere you went. Your light filled up every room you entered and no one seemed able to be in a bad mood when you were around. However, these last five months…

As if reading his mind, you slip your hand from his and slide it up his cheek until you run your fingers through his hair. “Hey, I know this between us is still new and I’m still struggling with everything that happened to…” You close your eyes and swallow hard as if his name is caught in your throat, still unable to pass your lips. But then you open your eyes and continue, “But I wouldn’t have made it through it without you. Your patience, your support, your love…you’ve been amazing, Bradley. And I just hope you know that what happens tonight, it’s all because of you.”

He gives you a small smile. “I know I’m not him and I’m never going to try to replace what you had, but I’m really happy we found our way to each other. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you either, sweetheart. But we did it…together. And as long as we’re together, I know it’ll be okay.”

“Together,” you hum, your fingers continuing to run through his curls. “I love hearing you say that because I plan on you being by my side for the rest of our lives.”

There is something about that statement that scratches at the back of Bradley’s brain. Maybe it’s your choice of words or the slightly serious tone your voice suddenly dropped into.

But before he can consider it further, you perk up in your seat and point out the window. “There! Pull over there! This is the spot.”

Bradley doesn’t see anything special about the place other than a slight clearing in the trees on the right side of the road—just big enough for him to park the Bronco. But, he promised to trust you on this excursion, so he did as you asked.

Once he is parked, the two of you grab your backpacks, sleeping bags, cooler of food, and the tent from the back. You promise it’s not a long walk so you take everything in one trip. After about five minutes of trudging through dense underbrush, unruly trees, and hidden roots, the two of you stumble into a clearing.

The space is maybe twenty feet across in a roughly circular shape. All of the foliage is suspiciously missing from this space even though it doesn’t seem like it was cleared necessarily. More like it just grew this way. As Bradley glances up, he sees another sort of circular opening in the treetops above, giving him a clear view of the sky as the sun begins to set.

The place has a strange energy and a chill goes up Bradley’s spine as a sudden wind blows through the clearing. But before he can say anything, you whisper an awed, “We’re here.”

There are tears in your eyes and you begin to bounce slightly as you gaze around. You let out a soft squeal, then compose yourself. Turning to Bradley, you say, “It’s going to get dark soon and we have a lot to do before then. Can you go gather up some firewood? We’ll need a lot to keep it going throughout the night.”

Bradley nods slowly, still not completely sure what he has gotten himself into. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do. Do you think you can put the tent together by yourself?”

“Oh, I have something else to get ready before that. It’s your surprise,” you say with a wink. “But we can put the tent together when you finish with the wood.”

Deciding to just go along for now, Bradley sighs. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. This is your trip. I’m just along for the ride.” He kisses the top of your head then heads off into the woods.

Thirty minutes later, there is a towering pile of sticks in the center of the clearing. Bradley isn’t sure why you wanted him to put them there considering you wanted to keep most of them for later in the night, but once again, he didn’t question it. However, it did strike him as odd that you seem to have not really done much while he’s been gone. You’ve taken a few smaller bags out of your backpack and laid out some clothes, but that’s it. Meanwhile, he’s been working up a sweat trudging all over collecting wood.

At least when he brought back his final bundle you gave him a cold water bottle and a kiss on the lips. He downs the bottle as you return to whatever it is you are up to.

As he watches, everything begins to blur around the edges of his vision.

He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes, but the blurring only begins getting worse. And what’s more, he’s feeling light-headed. It feels just like that moment in his plane where the Gs get too intense and he begins to blackout. But why would that be happening now?

Stumbling slightly, Bradley mutters, “Sw-sweetheart…I think…I think I need to sit down for a minute. I might’ve overdone it with the w-wood.”

The next thing he knows, his world spins ninety degrees as he crashes to his side on the clearing floor. He tries to sit up, but every part of him is made of lead and he doesn’t have the strength to even lift his hand. His vision is no longer just blurry, it's starting to tunnel into darkness. He can just make out your feet as they step into his line of sight.

With the toe of your sneaker, you kick his shoulder so he rolls over onto his back. He’s now staring up at the pinkish-purple sky framed by a circle of treetops.

Then, your face peers over, blocking everything else from view. A cruel grin—one unlike any he had ever seen on your face—stretches across your lips. “No, Bradley, that’s just the drugs I slipped in your water kicking in. I have work to do and I need you to stay out of my way while I do it. So enjoy your little nappy-nap. I’ll see you when you wake up…or maybe not.”

Before Bradley can process what is happening, he is swallowed by the darkness.

Bradley was eyeing the couple in the corner, trying to decide if it was his job to step in or if he should leave them be. After all, this was far from the first time you and Hangman had one—or three—too many drinks on your night off and gotten too handsy for a public establishment. At the moment, things were still fairly tame, but Bradley knew from experience that could change in an instant. Last month, he and Coyote had to drag the two of you out of the bar after Penny complained about the near-pornographic sounds coming from her back booth.

It had been the last straw. After putting up with your drunken hanky-panky since the two of you started dating ten months ago, Penny finally put her foot down and swore if it happened again, you would both be banned. And as much as it would please Bradley to see Hangman’s face when he sobered up and found out he was no longer allowed at The Hard Deck, Bradley knew the whole squad would be bummed if they lost one of its members for their weekly hangouts. Plus, he had come to really enjoy your presence among the group (that was when you weren’t plastered and attached to Hangman’s lap). So, somewhat reluctantly, Bradley stood and walked over to your table.

Neither one of you seemed to notice him as he approached. You were too busy jamming your tongues down the other’s throat. But Bradley sighed and clapped his hands, startling you apart. “Come on, you lovebirds. Time to go home.”

Hangman’s eyes were slightly out of focus as he shifted you slightly on his lap so he could glare up at Bradley. “Aw, come on, Bradshaw. Just because you aren’t gettin’ any doesn’t mean you have to spoil our fun.”

You giggled into Hangman’s neck and Bradley swore he saw you lick his skin before mumbling, “Don’t be mean, Jakey. Maybe Bradley just wants to watch.”

“No. Bradley definitely doesn’t want to watch,” he groaned. Crossing his arms over his chest, Bradley said, “Look, I have an early morning meeting with Cyclone tomorrow so I’ve got to get some sleep. But Penny’s already threatened to kick you out and I’m not going to let one of you drunk idiots drive home.”

“Jake’s drunk, I’m fine,” you grinned. You slid off Jake and straightened up to prove your point, but the slight sway in your stance only served to further Bradley’s assessment.

He sighed again, pressing his fingers to his eyes. “Sweetheart, I can smell the booze on your breath from over here and something tells me you wouldn’t make it to the bar without falling over. I’m driving you. End of discussion.”

You pouted, your bottom lip jutting off your face in a way Bradley had to admit was adorable, but it didn’t sway him. He held out his hand and, after a moment, you rolled your eyes and dug your keys out of your pocket. Slamming them into Bradley’s open palm, you stuck out your tongue at him. But then you gave him a clumsy wink and he knew even if you did remember tonight, you wouldn’t hold it against him.

Walking ahead, Bradley patiently held open the door as Jake and you stumbled across the room, each leaning heavily against the other in a mess of limbs and slobbery kisses. When you made it to your truck, Jake helped you climb into the back, his hands roaming across your ass far longer than necessary as he pushed you up the tall step. Then he dragged himself into the front seat and closed the door.

“Seat belts.” Bradley waited for a second but neither of you made a move to follow his instructions. Sighing, he said, “I’m not going anywhere until both of you put on your seat belts.”

“Yes, Mom,” both of you mocked in unison before collapsing into a fit of drunken laughter, but at least he heard both belts click into place.

As he drove towards Hangman’s house (where you had moved in a few months ago), the two of you continued your slurred dirty talk, occasionally throwing nonsensical jabs in Bradley’s direction for making you leave early. Normally, he might have tried to fire a few back, but it was too much fun listening to Hangman smugly say something he thought was so clever only for it to be nearly incomprehensible in actuality. Bradley couldn’t help but laugh at a few particularly bad ones.

He never saw the other truck run the red light.

It slammed into the passenger’s door, sending your truck spinning out of control as broken glass filled the air. Bradley tried to control the steering wheel as it jerked in his hands, but his head smashed into his door and he blacked out.

He came to a few moments later—his vision blurred and his head pounding—to the sound of you screaming from the back seat. “No! Jake! Nooo!”

Apparently, nothing sobers a person up quicker than seeing their greatest fear come to life in front of their eyes.

Bradley slowly raised his eyes to the rearview mirror, a fresh stab of pain driving through his head, and looked back at you. With blood pouring down your face from where your head slammed into the seat in front of you, you thrashed around for a moment until you managed to unbuckle your seatbelt. Ignoring the glass covering the interior of the truck, you pulled yourself forward between the two front seats and crawled into Jake’s lap.

It was only then that Bradley got his first look at his other passenger and he immediately wished he hadn’t.

All it took was one glance to see that Jake Seresin was dead.

Between the unnatural bend of his neck where the seatbelt still dug into his skin and the glassy, blank stare in his once-spirited green eyes, Rooster knew his wingman was gone. There was nothing anyone could do to save him.

However, you apparently refused to accept that.

Laying your head on his shoulder, you begged, “Baby, please, wake up. Don’t do this. Come back to me. Please, Jake.”

You placed your hand on his cheek and gently tried to turn his face to look at you. His head flopped unnaturally far backward and Bradley felt bile bubble in his throat that he struggled to keep down.

Your eyes grew wide as your bottom lip began to tremble. “No, no, no, Jake, no. Please, baby, I love you. You can’t—you can’t—no!” You sobbed and buried your face in his chest.

Bradley heard you muttering something under your breath, but he couldn’t make out what it was. It almost sounded like something in another language but not one he recognized. He began to worry that your head injury might be worse than he initially thought.

He softly called out your name and began to reach out to touch your shoulder, to try and move you off the corpse of the man you loved. Yet before he could, your head shot up. Your eyes darted across Jake’s face once more, almost as if you expected something had changed in the last few seconds. But when you saw that it hadn’t, your mouth opened wide and you let out an ear-splitting, heart-wrenching wail.

That wail has haunted Bradley ever since that night, and it is that wail that is echoing in his ears as he slowly opens his eyes. He can’t be sure how long he was out, but it has gotten significantly darker since his eyes were last open. Stars dot the midnight blue sky above and a full moon rests perfectly in the center of the clearing opening. Dark shadows stretch and dance against the trees surrounding the clearing, cast by the blazing fire that had materialized while he was unconscious.

You are standing in front of the fire, muttering something under your breath. As Bradley watches, you toss a handful of powder into the flames which flare deep red for a second before returning to its usual yellow-orange glow. Your flannel shirt and jeans from earlier have been replaced by a flowing black dress that brushes the ground just high enough to reveal your bare feet poking out underneath.

The clearing floor is littered with broken sticks, burrs, and rocks, and, as you move around the fire, he notices you are leaving a faint bloody trail in your wake. Yet you don’t seem to notice or care as you continue whatever you are doing undeterred by any discomfort.

Suddenly, Bradley’s stomach lurches and he rolls to his side just in time to vomit, the contents of his stomach spilling across the clearing floor. He heaves a few more times before things settle, and he collapses onto his back once more.

“Ah, good. You’re awake. I was afraid I gave you too much and would have to start without you.”

Bradley turns his head to see you still standing by the fire, but your attention is now fixed on him. Slowly, on trembling arms, he pushes himself to his feet. “What is this? What the fuck are you doing? If this is some kind of game or kinky shit I didn’t know you were into, I don’t like it.”

“Are you really that stupid that you still don’t get it?” you sneer, the cruelty in your voice cutting into his heart like a knife. “Five months ago, the man I loved more than life itself was ripped from my arms because of you. You insisted on driving that night even though I told you I was fine and because of that, Jake is dead. If you had just stayed out of our fucking business, he would still be here with me.”

No. That’s not what happened. Bradley takes a step toward you. “Sweetheart, tha—”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart!” you snarl, your eyes burning with a hatred that takes his breath away. “Do you know how repulsive it's been pretending to love you? Letting you touch me, kiss me, all the while despising every atom in your body for what you took from me. The only thing that kept me from strangling you in your sleep was the knowledge I still needed you for my plan to work.”

Bradley’s mind is still groggy from the drugs, but things are finally starting to click together. “So all of it was just a lie? Leaning on each other after Jake’s death? You were just using me? For what? You still haven’t explained what the fuck you’re doing to me!”

You continue on as if he hadn’t spoken, your voice filled with cold fury. “I knew how to get everything I needed. All I was missing was a host. A body for him to return to. But as much as I ached to have my Jake back, I knew I couldn’t take an innocent person’s body. It wouldn’t be fair and he wouldn’t want that. But that’s when it hit me. Why not take the body of the man responsible for Jake losing his? The one who should have died in that crash instead of him? Why was it fair you got to be here when he didn’t? So…I’m going to change that.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Bradley laughs in disbelief, the absurdity of the situation not fully processing in his brain.

Your face softens just a fraction and you scoff lightly. “Jake never told you, did he? Though, honestly, I’m not surprised. I don’t think he ever really believed me when I told him. He thought it was all a joke, a bit of ancient fun family trivia that was all nonsense. But it’s all true.” Taking a step closer to him, you pull out a small, leather-bound book from a pocket in your dress. “You see, Rooster, I am part of one of the oldest magical bloodlines in the known world. In other words, I’m what you might call, a witch.”

Bradley looks from you to the book to you again. Then he mutters, “You’re more insane than I thought you were.”

“We’ll see about that shortly enough,” you say with a thin-lipped smile. Then you begin strolling slowly around the fire. “Up until I lost Jake, I was more than happy to only dabble in the light side of my magic: A calming spell attached to my aura to soothe those around me. A positivity potion mixed into the cookies I made for the squad when you all weren’t getting along. A good luck charm tucked into Jake’s flight suit when he was leaving on a mission. Just tiny things to make all of your lives a little better. And I was more than happy to do it. But now?”

You stop walking and turn to face him. “Now, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to bring my Jake back to me. Even if that means tapping into the kind of magic I’ve sworn never to use. That’s why we had to come to this spot on this night. It’s a place of unlimited power for those strong enough to tap into it. And tonight, that’s just what I plan to do.”

Bradley still doesn’t believe a word you are saying. Maybe it was the trauma of seeing Jake die. Maybe it was something from your past before you met any of the Daggers. But whatever it was, something had knocked a few screws loose in your head and Bradley had to find a way out of here before you turned violent.

He had spotted a knife attached to a belt around your waist, but he is fairly certain he can disarm you if it comes down to it. Yet, even though you are talking about hurting him and that everything you had been through together had been a lie, he still cared about you and didn’t want you to get hurt—get help was a different story, but first he had to get out of here.

However, almost as if reading his mind, you give him a small smile. “It’s too late, Rooster. There is no escape. I already started the ritual while you were asleep. All I need now is blood.” And you draw the knife from your belt.

Bradley takes a few stumbling steps backward, but you shake your head. “Not yours. I’ll be taking enough from you already. No, this sacrifice is mine to make.”

Before he can stop you, you slash the knife across your palm. You drop the knife to the ground with a soft cry as you clutch your hand to your chest. But then, you hold out your shaking hand to the fire, letting blood drip into the flames.

Suddenly, the entire clearing is engulfed in a blinding red light. Bradley squeezes his eyes shut but he can hear you chanting something across the clearing. He doesn’t understand the words but he recognizes some of them as what you muttered in your truck the night Jake died.

Figuring you will be distracted, Bradley opens his eyes and tries to sneak off into the woods. However, he only takes a few steps before a vice-like grip latches onto his throat. His eyes bulge as his fingers claw at whatever is choking him, but his hands only scratch against his own skin. He looks at you but it only increases his panic as he sees your eyes are now two pitch-black orbs as you continue your chanting, a strong wind beginning to sweep through the clearing.

Then, Bradley begins to feel a strange pulling sensation deep within him. His body remains exactly as it was, but something—his consciousness, his soul, whatever it is that makes Rooster the man that he is—is being dragged down and out of himself. He tries to fight it, to hold on, but how do you fight something that is happening within you?

As he feels himself being pulled deeper, slipping from his body, another consciousness brushes against his. A person he immediately recognizes and never thought he’d meet again. “Jake?” he gasps. Tears begin streaming down his face as the presence grows stronger and he just manages to whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

Then Bradley Bradshaw is gone.

Jake Seresin opens his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar clearing at night. Towering trees surround the space, illuminated by the full moon high above and the towering, flickering flames in the nearby fire. As he glances around, he rolls his shoulders and stretches his back. His entire body feels…off. He doesn’t have any words to explain it but something is not right.

But just then, he notices a woman standing across from him in a billowing black dress. It takes him a moment to recognize you, and when he does, he inhales sharply.

Gone is the bright, smiley, vibrant woman he had come to love with his entire heart and soul. Instead, you are a ghost of yourself: Your hair has been dyed pitch black and it looks like it’s been a while since you washed it. Your cheeks once full are now sunken. And you have huge bags under your eyes as if you hadn’t slept for weeks. Yet, your eyes themselves are the most startling change. Once sparkling and full of sunshine, they are now dull and carry a pain in them Jake has never seen before.

Taking a shaky step towards you, he calls out, “Baby?”

As if you have been holding your breath in anticipation, you gasp at the sound of his voice. “Jake? Is it…is it really you?”

Who else was it supposed to be? “Ye-yeah, it’s me. What’s going on? Where are we?”

“Oh my god. I did it,” you breathe as you stare at him in awe, your eyes dancing across his face, drinking in every inch of it. “I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough, but it worked. You’re back.”

Before he can ask what you mean, your eyes roll back in your head and your knees give out beneath you. Normally, Jake would have been able to cross the distance and catch you instantly, but for some reason, his movements are strangely clumsy and uncoordinated to the point he just barely manages to grab your arms and pull you close before you hit the ground.

You moan softly as he lowers you both to the damp ground and he settles you into his lap. As he tries to reposition you, he notices your feet are bare, coated in mud and steaks of blood. There is also blood oozing from a deep gash on your hand. Your skin feels icy to the touch despite the heat of the fire and he can feel your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. He's still not sure where you both are, how you got here, or what happened to get you in this state, but none of that matters until he can make sure you are alright.

Gently running his fingers across your cheek, Jake mutters, “Come on, baby, you've gotta wake up for me.” He clears his throat and pounds once on his chest. Something about his voice sounds off—he doesn't sound like himself yet there is something familiar about it that he can't quite put his finger on.

But that's forgotten as he watches your eyes start to slowly open, the act seemingly arduous as you struggle to lift your lids. However, as you gaze up at him, the bright, tender smile he had come to love so much stretches across your face. Slowly, you raise a trembling hand to cup his cheek. “Jake. You’re really back.”

“Why do you keep saying that? I didn’t go anywhere.”

“It’s a long story.” You wet your lips and mutter, “Can you help me up?”

Jake scrambles up (still strangely tripping over his own body) and gently helps lift you to your feet. You take a few unsteady steps forward but then seem to find your footing. Turning to face him, you say, “This is going to be hard to hear but I promise, it’s the truth.” You stare at him and when he nods for you to continue, you take a deep breath. “Jake, you died five months ago.”

“What?” Jake’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about? I’m not dead.”

“No, but you were.” you take his hand, your blood smearing across his skin. “What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?”

“I-I don’t know. I guess…We were at The Hard Deck having some drinks an-and Rooster, he told us he was taking us home. Then I remember a bright flash of light and—” He gasps, clutching his neck as he remembers hearing a sharp snap followed by a single second of the most intense pain he’s ever felt then—he woke up here. Yet his neck feels fine now, if somehow thicker, more muscular than he remembers but that wouldn’t explain the pain.

You nod. “That’s when it happened. Rooster was t-boned by a drunk driver and you broke your neck. He should never have been driving us. I was fine! I was more than sober enough to drive, especially with my protection spells. If he would’ve just kept his fucking nose out of our business…” You close your eyes and slowly take another long, deep breath. When you reopen your eyes, you continue, calmer than before. “I tried to get to your body in time but your family had you cremated before I could try to bring you back. I thought it was over and you were gone for good. But then I found another way. I needed a body. It didn’t have to specifically be your body. And since it was Rooster’s fault you were taken from me, it was the perfect solution.”

“Wha—”

Suddenly, Jake realizes why his voice doesn’t sound like his own yet is still so familiar. Why his limbs don’t feel the same and his neck is thicker. And as he lifts his trembling hand to his face and his fingers brush against a coarse strip of hair covering his upper lip, any lingering hopes that he might be wrong are shattered.

It’s not possible but he is trapped inside Rooster’s body.

With his eyes wide and voice shaking, Jake screams, “What did you do? What the fuck did you do?”

You stumble back, surprised by his furious outburst. “I-I gave you back the life he stole from you. I gave us another chance.”

“And Rooster? If I'm here, then where…” His voice trails off as the last piece of this nightmarish puzzle slips into place and he finally realizes the full extent of what you had done.

“It’s simple, Jake. A life for a life. One soul traded places with another. You’re here now, so Rooster is…” You shrug with a slight wave of your hand, clearly unbothered by the unknown fate you had sent the other man too.

That complete callousness towards a man you had both cared for is all Jake needed to know he hadn’t only lost his wingman, but the woman he loved. He drops to his knees—Rooster's knees—and violently heaves onto the ground. Over and over, his whole body—Rooster's body—convulsing as it tries desperately to rid itself of everything in it, including the intruder. Yet try as he might, nothing comes up. Not even bile. Rooster must have already gotten sick before…

Another full-body tremor sweeps through him.

When he is finally able to pull himself together even the slightest bit, Jake crawls to his feet. Backing away from you, he stutters, “I'm…I'm going to go to the police.”

“And tell them what?” you snap, your eyes turning black as a wind picks up from nowhere and blows through the clearing. “Tell them you're a dead guy in your friend’s body while his soul is currently rotting in hell or wherever the fuck you were? What good do you think that's going to do you besides landing you in the looney bin? No. You're either stuck in Rooster's body or you're going back to where you were to join him. And I'm not losing you again.”

Raising your hand in front of you, fingers reaching out towards him, they suddenly twitch and Jake feels this body stiffen outside of his control. As you begin to slowly twitch one finger then another, Jake's foot lifts and steps closer to you. Then another step. And another. As much as he tries to struggle, Jake can’t resist as you force him to walk across the clearing and stop before you.

Cupping his face with your non-controlling hand—your eyes still black—you whisper, “This is not how this was supposed to go. Jake, you love me. You were supposed to be happy I brought you back.”

“Maybe…” Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to hide the disgust crawling down his spine at your touch. “Maybe I would have been if things were different. But I can’t live my life knowing it’s at the cost of Rooster’s. I don’t care what he might have done. No one deserves this.”

You thrust your hand downward and he drops heavily to his knees at your feet. Running your fingers tenderly through his curls, you coo, “I know you need time to adjust, baby. I’m sure this is a lot to take in. But let’s just make one thing very clear—” You suddenly grab a fistful of hair and yank his head back so he is forced to stare up at you “—I brought you back and you belong to me now. One way or another, I will have the life I was always supposed to have with you before any of this started. You can either be a good boy and accept that so we both can be happy, or you can make this difficult and I will make you behave.”

You ball your hand into a fist and Jake feels like his brain is about to explode. An intense pressure unlike anything he has ever felt squeezes his mind and he sees sparks explode behind his eyes. You release your hand and the pressure disappears, leaving Jake mewling and quivering on the ground.

You place your filthy, bloody big toe under his chin and raise his head so he is looking at you. “Do we understand each other?” Jake has no choice but to nod. Your eyes return to normal as your bright smile from before returns to your face. “Good! Then you better start practicing your best rooster crow. From now on as far as anyone else is concerned, you are Lt. Bradley Bradshaw.”

Jake feels like he is going to get sick again, but you just turn around and gather up your belongings. In no time, you are ready to go. Jake takes one last look up at the full moon, tears streaming down his face.

And, as he is forced to follow you out of the clearing towards the waiting Bronco, he wonders if Rooster’s fate is really so bad after all.

Taglist: @ohtobeleah, @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever,

@blue-aconite, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite,

@straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped,

@yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87,

@forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27,

@phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson,

@cycbaby, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld,

@wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @kmc1989,

@deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @mandylove1000, @aczhang777

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a-aexotic · 8 months ago

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𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, prologue

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ! 1.1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ! daddy issues, mentions of divorces (just overall familial issues LOL), nate being a sweetheart, hurt/comfort.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! i'm so excited for this new series aaaaa!! i absolutely love nate archibald and he's so underrated for being so PRETTY and so uafunufnuvnfuednfieidncv. so here's a new series for all the nate girlies who are still out there, please enjoy !!!!

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. series masterlist. taglist. ❫

FRESHMAN YEAR, WINFREY RESIDENCE.

You stumble out of the elevator and into the opulent penthouse, your legs feeling like jelly with each step. As you quietly make your way up the stairs, a sudden clearing of the throat startles you, shit. You were so close to getting away with it.

Turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with your father, Piers Winfrey. His expression is a mix of disappointment and frustration, his eyes narrowing as they settle on you.

"Y/N," he begins, his voice tight with frustration, "do you have any idea what time it is? We waited for you until we realized you weren't gonna make it. Again."

You meet his gaze, your own eyes flashing with anger. "I had things to do, Dad," you retort, your voice tinged with defiance. "I couldn't make it to dinner."

He lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Y/N, you know how important these family dinners are," he says, his voice softer now, but still tinged with frustration. "Your absence didn't go unnoticed, especially not by Josie."

Your stomach churns at the mention of her name, the bitterness rising in your throat. You swallow hard, fighting to keep your composure. "I don't care," you mutter, your words more to yourself than to him. "She's not anything to me, you can't make me like her. She knew about mom and she still slept with you, she's a homewrecker."

"Josie is not the reason your mother and I are no longer together," he says firmly, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "And she's certainly not a 'homewrecker.'"

You scoff bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh, please. Don't act like she's innocent in all of this," you retort, your voice dripping with venom. "She knew exactly what she was doing when she got involved with you."

His jaw tightens as he takes a step closer to you, his gaze unwavering. "That's enough, Y/N," he says, his tone firm. "Josie is a part of my life now, whether you like it or not. And I expect you to show her the same respect you would any other."

You clench your fists, the anger boiling inside you threatening to spill over. "Respect?!" you scoff, livid. "You expect me to respect the woman who tore our family apart? Who knew about Mom and still chose to sleep with you? She's a terrible person and you're too blind to see."

Your father's facade cracks, his frustration boiling over into raw anger. His hands curl into fists at his sides, knuckles white with tension. "How dare you speak to me like that," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

You stand your ground, refusing to back down. "I know enough," you retort, your own voice trembling. "I know that she's the reason our family fell apart. And I'll never forgive you for choosing her over us."

Your father takes a step forward, his expression darkening with every word. "That's enough, Y/N," he growls, his tone low and dangerous. "You will show Josie the respect she deserves, or so help me..."

But you cut him off, your own anger boiling over as you meet his gaze with defiance. "Or what, Dad?" you challenge. "Are you going to kick me out like you did Mom? Is that your solution to everything?"

You didn't wait for him to respond, you let out a loud scoff before turning your body and walking up the stairs, ignoring his calls. You couldn't believe him, he still chose the mistress over his daughter.

You ran into your room, slamming the door shut and falling onto the bed. Your whole body was exhausted, not just from the night - from everything that had happened. It felt like your whole life was falling apart and no one could save you.

Your phone began to buzz in your purse and you pulled it out and read the name before answering it, your lips curving up into a smile as you heard his voice.

"Did you get home safe?" Nate's voice rang through the phone as you turned to lay on your back, sighing.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of Nate's voice, a small sense of comfort washing over you amidst the chaos. "Yeah, I'm home," you reply, your voice still tinged with frustration but softening at the sound of his voice. "Thanks for asking."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could hear the concern in Nate's voice as he spoke again. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You let out a humorless laugh, the sound bitter on your tongue. "Honestly, Nate, I don't even know anymore," you admitted, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you with each passing moment.

"Is it your dad or Josie?" Nate asked as you felt your whole body slump. How could he always seem to see right through you, even over the phone?

Nate's question hung in the air, you couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness at the mention of both. They were both sources of anger in your life, they both shredded your sense of normalcy.

"It's... both, I guess," you replied, the words heavy. "My dad, he just doesn't get it. He's so blinded by his own selfishness that he can't see how much he's hurting me."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you could almost picture Nate nodding in understanding. "And Josie?" he prompted gently.

You let out a weary sigh, the weight of your exhaustion settling over you like a suffocating blanket. "She's just... a constant reminder of everything that's gone wrong," you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't stand the sight of her, Nate. And now apparently, they're getting married and I have to deal with her daughter, too."

Your voice trailed off, unable to voice the depth of pain and betrayal you felt at your father's actions. In that moment, you were acutely aware of just how alone you felt, the darkness of your thoughts threatening to swallow you whole. "It's like... I don't even recognize my life anymore."

"You don't have to pretend everything's okay." Nate's response is immediate, his voice filled with determination. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. Always. I wish I could make it all go away. I hate seeing you like this, Y/N."

"Thank you, Nate," you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over as you spoke. "I... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me neither, Y/N." He responded. "Hey, I know its late but... Can I come over?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his him. "I'd like that," you replied softly, the weight of the world lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "Thank you, Nate. You're the best friend I could ask for."

"Of course, Y/N."

#gossip girl x you #gossip girl #gossip girl x reader #nate archibald x you #nate archibald x reader #nate archibald #blair waldorf #serena van der woodsen #chuck bass #x reader

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lint-beetle4 · 3 months ago

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Okay, so i have reader almost all your Wukong ff's and i absolutely adore them, they were well written ate them up and i would like to request if its okay.

I would like to ask for a Wunkong x male!reader, just some fluff maybe both reader and the king had bad days just them curling up and showing affection. If you don't really wanna do it just ignore this request, but if i make it i hope you will take care and drink and eat enough! Okay baiiiiii :]

Bittersweet Deserts (Wukong x Male!Reader) Fluff

You and Wukong having bad days was normal

You would pet Wukong as he complained about his day or maybe in simple silence if he wasn't feeling it

Wukong would carry you everywhere, refusing to let you walk anywhere

He also brought you food even if you weren't hungry. Wukong always wanted to ensure you ate right

While Wukong was content with cuddles after a long day, you were more than happy to provide for him

Usually it would be blankets and a glass of water, other times it'd be tissues and takeout

One of you was always ready to pick up the other, it was like clockwork

But, when both of you feel like total crap? That's a different thing

Low energy happens to the best of us, so when it affects the two of you? You have to work together to see how much you're willing to deal with

Some cases it's physical exhaustion, others its emotion, regardless, you two tended to work quite well together in figuring out a middle ground

Gods above, you were tired.

The day had dragged on and on, and you were so tired. You wanted to simply curl up and sleep the rest of your horrid day altogether-- general health, be damned, you're too tired to care.

You stumbled into your house, eyes lazily scanning through the room as you met with Wukong curled up slightly on the couch. You sigh, going behind the couch to observe him further.

He looked like shit too--like actual shit.

You tilted your head, seeing the way his eyes were faded, almost clouded with memory. His glamours had faded, revealing stressed fur streaked with grey and eyes that burned like the fires of Loazi's furnace. You rested your head on the couch, ignoring the way your body demanded to sit. You laid a gentle hand on Wukong's fur, trying your hardest to ignore the way he flinched before looking over at you.

Your eyes soften as he sits up, holding your face silently.

"Hey," Your voiced sounded pathetic. "You holding up alright?"

Wukong huffed, merely patting the couch, embracing you tightly as he nuzzled into you. You hugged him back, squeezing him as tight as you could while letting the stress of the day wash over you as Wukong merely melted into you.

Wukong's voice muffled against you, his tone sounded shattered.

"What was that, dear?"

Wukong lifted his head, "I had a rough day today."

"I'm sorry to hear." You mutter, kissing his forehead as Wukong laid against you. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"You look tired." Wukong whined, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "You should rest."

You chuckle, feeling emotions rise in your chest. You held them back for now. "I can't rest without you--you know this, silly."

The monkey chuckles wetly, choking on a sob. "You'll feel better if you cry too, right? That--emotion thing and the bottles or whatever."

You laugh, feeling your tears run down as you sobbed against Wukong. "The Great Sage--and all that wisdom--is trying to tell me to process my emotions."

Wukong laughed back, hugging you closely as you two continued to cry until your tears went out. With pounding heads and stuffy noses, you remained on the couch, snoring against Wukong as he strokes your hair, feeling his eyes close.

#monkey king x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong #sun wukong #lego monkie kid x y/n #lego monkie kid x reader #writing tag

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mentality-project · 10 months ago

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Carry Me Home

Morpheus x Fem!reader

Pushing your way through the crowded bar, you welcome the brisk night air as you stumble onto the streets of London. Blowing off steam with your favourite coworkers at the end of the week had been much-needed fun, but now you were ready for home. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your favourite scenes from the night replay in your head, your hands burying into your coat pockets to keep warm. You hum to the tune of the song stuck in your head, the crowds thinning out the closer you get to home. You notice the change in atmosphere five minutes later than you should have, the sound of a raven's caw overhead bringing you back to the present moment.

You hear them before you see them, the rowdy laughter and loud explosions of curse words giving away their position. A glance at the reflective shop front across the street tells you there's three men behind you. Fuck. It could be nothing, but even so...you'd rather not find out. Your feet pick up the pace, but despite your best efforts they sound louder. Closer.

The raven's caw pierces the night air once again, causing you to flinch but you don't stop walking until you barrel into a wall of black. Two hands grab the back of your elbows to steady you, your wide-eyed gaze snapping up to your captor. Relief floods your nervous system at the sight of the familiar stern face.

“Morphy-baby~ I need a ride! Would you be a dear and take me home?”

“You are intoxicated.”

“Maybe~”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“More than enough.” You are oblivious to the withering glare Morpheus sends towards the drunken trio of men before whisking you off to your apartment. --- "Whoa, headrush!" you giggle as you stumble in the hallway as the sand dissipates, "Don't think I'll ever get used to that." Morpheus' gentle grip on your forearms helps you still your clumsy feet, your tipsy giggles falling silent as you get lost in the galaxy of his eyes. Your lips curl up in amazement as you grip the lapels of his coat, "You have such pretty eyes, Morphy...", your smile falters as the next unfiltered thought crosses your mind, "it's not fair."

You don't notice the way he huffs through his nose, disgruntled with the unwanted nickname that has been bestowed upon him.

"You are drunk."

"Yes~ I am~!" your singsong voice is shameless.

"You should be in bed." "You're not the boss of me," you pout up at him.

The Dream Lord says your name in that hypnotic voice of his that sounds like a seduction and a warning rolled into one, and just like that, your defiance shrinks away. "But I'm not even...sleepy..." the yawns that interrupt your protest betray you. "Is that so?" Dream's eyes glint with amusement in the darkness. "Okay, okay, fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you carry me." Morpheus stares down at you while you blink up at him. You had never dared to be so petulant with him before. But then again, he had never encountered you drunk. You yelp when he scoops you up into his arms, kicking your heels off as Morpheus heads for the stairs with you in tow. He is carrying you like you're nothing.

"Oh Mylanta~ Morphy~ you're actually carrying me to bed."

"You insisted."

"Well, yeah...but I didn't think you'd actually do it." King of Dreams is silent and you wonder what's going on in there - long-suffering sigh or an internal scream. It's only when he heads for the doorway to your bedroom that you start to squirm in his arms, "Wait, wait!"

Morpheus raises his eyebrow at you, arms still wound tight around your body. You point to the bathroom. "I need the bathroom. Gotta wash my face. Sleeping in makeup is a sin."

The midnight-haired being obliges you as he carries you into the bathroom, setting you down in front of the sink before he perches on the edge of your bathtub to watch you work. You go in on your eyes and lips with a bottle of liquid remover and cotton balls, following up with some facial wipes. You frown at your reflection while you're on your fourth wipe, unable to ignore the nagging in your head that argues that since you've gotten this far, you really ought to wash your face properly. Your hands are slathered in cleansing balm before you realise that you forgot to tie up your hair.

"Hold my hair back, Morph?" Morpheus is silent as he stands behind you to oblige you, and you watch his reflection in the mirror as he smooths your hair back with both hands before gathering your locks in one hand.

"Cheers, dear." you murmur as you rub the melted balm over your face.

You rinse and repeat with cleanser before following up with moisturiser. A few moments of silence pass when you turn to face Morpheus, blinking up at him.

"I need to pee." you announce before shoving the unsuspecting Endless into the hallway and closing the door behind you.

Morpheus has no time to react and you crack the door open like an afterthought as you peer through the gap. "You're still tucking me in, right?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

The door shuts again, soon followed by the sound of the toilet flushing, then running water. The door flings open and Morpheus is greeted with the sight of you brushing your teeth. You mumble around your toothbrush, using your free hand to guide Morpheus' hand to your hair. He gets the gist, because by the time you're standing in front of the mirror, he's holding your hair in a ponytail again. He lets go as you turn to face him.

"I need a shower, but I'm too lazy."

Morpheus lifts his hand and you're captivated by the stardust that swirls around you. When it lifts, you're in your favourite sleepwear and feeling more squeaky-clean than you ever have in your life.

"Did you just -" you cut yourself off as you run your hands along your arms, through your hair and sniff the collar of your shirt, "did you just glamour magic me clean?"

"Yes."

"How amazing." your voice is hushed as you breath out.

"What was that?" you're oblivious to the amusement that tugs at Morpheus' lips.

"How amazing!" you repeat louder, looking up at Morpheus with wide eyes.

"Will you go to bed now?"

"Yes!" you grin as you put your hand on Morpheus' shoulders before you jump up to wrap your limbs around him like a koala, "I'm ready!" The huff of his breath almost sounds like laughter as his hands grip your thighs, turning on his heel to finally carry you to bed. You gasp as he sets you down and pulls the covers over you.

"Ooh, you're tucking me in~"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"I love it." you grin up at Morpheus before patting the spot next to you, "come here, Morph."

Morpheus sits next to you and you shake your head as you pull the blanket out from under him, "No, lie down. I don't want you sitting near my face. What if you fart?"

"(Y/N), I am Endless. Endless do not -"

"Lie down, please!" you smack the bed as you raise your voice, feeling quite pleased with yourself when the Dream Lord complies.

You shimmy over to his body, throwing your leg over his as you lie your head on his shoulder, curling an arm around his chest.

"This feels nice," you smile as you close your eyes.

Morpheus doesn't respond, but a few moments later you feel his hand rise from your shoulder to stroke your hair and it makes you melt into him even more.

"Ohhh...I love you." you mumble into his coat.

"What did you say?"

"I love you. Please don't stop doing that." your eyes refuse to open as you feel yourself drift further and further into sleep with each stroke.

"Sleep well, (Y/N). I will meet you in The Dreaming."

#the sandman #morpheus x fem!reader #morpheus x reader #not my gifs #dream x reader #dream of the endless #netflix the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #lord morpheus

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year ago

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Desperation

Warnings: fwb, teasing, masturbation, begging, creampie

The door opens and JJ emerges appearing half asleep with one eye open and his hair more of a mess than usual. I refuse to cry another tear as I throw myself into his arms, forcing my lips to his so hard he stumbles back while banding his arms around me. I cling to him, hiking my leg up on his hip until he lifts me and I hear the door slam shut. My back meets the wall as JJ's kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine in a fight for dominance. I grind against him, aching to feel his cock inside me. I wanted to feel anything. Something.

"What happened?" JJ finally pulls back panting, his hands tight on my back under my shirt. I shake my head, ducking down again to capture his lips. He groans before turning and dropping us down on the couch. His hard cock rubs against the crotch of my sleep shorts and I nearly combust right then. My hand slips into his athletic shorts but he pulls back, looking at me with blown pupils and swollen lips as he fights to catch his breath.

"What--."

"No talking. Just fucking." I blurt, sitting up to force his shorts down and groaning at the site of him springing free. I lift up my hips and yank my thin cotton shorts down and toss them on the floor, followed by my shirt. JJ groans, his eyes burning into me as I lay back on the couch and spread my legs wide.

"Y/N." JJ gulps, unable to stop himself from watching as I slowly start to touch myself. The light touch has me shuddering, my back arching off the couch as I circle my clit. His hand wraps around the throbbing length and he starts to stroke himself as he watches. It makes me burn hotter so I thrust two fingers inside myself, curling them towards my sweet spot so swiftly I nearly bow off the couch.

"Fuckkkkk." JJ groans, low and long, before yanking my hand away and burying himself inside me with one brutal go. I moan loudly, my back arching and shoving my chest against his as his hips snap rapidly into mine with a seconds hesitation.

He fucks me hard and fast, just the way I needed. His hand wraps around my throat and I cum with a choked cry, my entire body trembling as he hammers into me faster until he spills with a groan. We take a minute to catch our breath as he drops down on top of me for a kiss, our bodies sticking together with sweat. I'm exhausted and practically boneless as I kiss him back lazily, my pussy still fluttering around his cock.

"Do you want more?" JJ whispers against my lips before turning my head for access to my neck. I shudder, wrapping my legs around his waist as he kisses me with random swipes of his tongue. I can barely think. All I want is more.

"Yes. I'm not done." I murmur, my nails cutting into his back before he pulls out and starts to descend down my body, his hot mouth wrapping around one of my nipples while he tweaks the other.

"J." I moan, threading my fingers through his messy hair as he sucks and nibbles my nipple until it aches then moves to the next one. His hand slides between our bodies until he meets my clit. I buck beneath him from the zap of pleasure as he presses on the swollen nub.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” JJ pants, his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as he continues to lazily lick my nipples.

“I need a reason to come see you?” I smirk as I start to squirm from his touch. I was so wet and slick from our cum and the amounts of arousal slipping from me. I feel his cum starting to trickle out of me when he suddenly hooks two fingers into me, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth while stroking my G-spot until I see stars. I'm on the verge of exploding just as he sits back on his heels, withdrawing his fingers.

“Don’t stop.” I whine, reaching for him in desperation.

“Tell me.” He says, leaning down to drag his cock through my soaked slit, driving me insane with need. I shudder, reaching for him but he pulls back to slap the head of his cock against my clit. I gasp, glaring at him as he smirks and does it again.

“If I wanted to talk I’d go see my therapist.” I bite out, bordering the thin line of insanity.

“Yea? You gonna fuck him too?” JJ raises a brow at me, working just the tip inside me and stealing my ability to breathe. I bite my lip, refusing to tell him my therapist is an older woman.

“J..” My body shock as he continued to ease only the tip in and out of me. I was desperate for more. I ached to be filled. I was so sore but I needed more.

“You want more, baby? Then beg me for the rest.” JJ growled, bringing his hand down on my clit and making me cry out in agony

“Please!” I cried, glaring at him as his lips tipped up in a cocky smirk. JJ pulled completely out, circled my clit with his cock and thrust back into me as hard as he could, finally giving into my desperation.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #rudy pankow #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #blueicequeen19 #tw unprotected sex

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selftitledshit · 11 months ago

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༺ nothing's gonna hurt you baby ༻

matty healy x reader blurb

✧ A/N: thank you guys so much for the love on my last post! i didn't expect ppl to like it but u guys rlly shocked meee. hope u all enjoy this tiny blurb while i try to write some more!

✧ Synopsis: After a long and rough day at work, you come home grumpy and in dire need of sleep. Matty catches on and decides to provide the comfort you've desperately wanted all day.

✧ Warnings: a little bit of angst??, suggestive touching, cuddling, flufff❤️‍🩹

✧ Vision Board: https://pin.it/2to6Akz

✧ Word Count: 507

You carelessly swing the bedroom door open, tossing your bag and your dirty shoes into the corner of the room. Matty quickly rises from the bed, slowly approaching your slumped figure.

"What's got my darling all gloomy tonight?" Matty teases, his hands reaching out to run along your body, stilling as they reach your ass.

"Not in the mood." You groan, slowly peeling off your tight, agitating work clothes. You saunter over to your dresser, pulling out a simple camisole and pair of shorts. As you slip them on, Matty appears behind you, running his fingertips along your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a long, exasperated sigh before muttering, "You really don't know how to listen, do you?" You turn to lightly punch Matty's shoulder, pushing him away.

"Ow!" Matty dramatically gasps, playfully stumbling back a step. "Watch out there, killer," he grinned, rubbing his shoulder. "M'just playing around, babe," he added, stepping closer to you again. "Nothing serious." You give him an unamused look, pushing past him to flop onto the bed.

Matty watches as you flung yourself onto the bed, a mix of emotions playing across his face. He sighed heavily before following after you, crawling onto the bed beside you. "What's got you so wound up?" You continue laying face down on the bed, your body sprawled out like a starfish.

"Today, it was a lot." You mumble against the sheets, tiredness in your muffled voice. Matty heard your mumbled words but didn't press for more information. He knew better than to push when you were in one of these moods. Instead, he slid his arm under you, gently pulling you against his chest.

You desperately crawl into his arms, your side pressed against his chest as you hug your knees in his lap. Matty wrapped his other arm around you, holding you close. He could feel your heart beating against his chest, and he knew that this was the only comfort you sought tonight.

"Shh," he whispered softly, running his hand soothingly up and down your back. You breathe lightly against Matty's skin, your eyes fluttering closed. You trail a hand up to play with Matty's curls, the only thing keeping you grounded.

Matty felt the soft touch of your hand in his hair, and it brought a small smile to his lips. He knew this was the only time you truly felt safe - when you were in his arms, seeking solace from the emotions budding within. You reach down to pull the covers up, nestling closer to Matty.

"There you go," Matty murmured, helping wrap the blanket around both of you. He felt your breathing begin to even out, knowing you would soon fall asleep. You wrap your arms around Matty's waist, pulling him close before you start to doze off. "I've got you," Matty whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He held you close throughout the night, his heart full of love and admiration for this fragile, innocent thing that he couldn't help but cherish.

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

#matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty fic #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #matty x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy the 1975 #matty healy oneshot #at their very best

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year ago

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"I see you, and I love you" + hurt/comfort ; requested by @oops-i-dropped-the-galaxy!

Danny can handle being a halfa. He’s had years to get used to it, switching between dead and alive, living boy and ghost, always living in flux. He’s settled into his identity as one of the few halfas in existence, navigating the living world and the Infinite Realms with ease after years of practice.

What he can’t handle is becoming an Ancient.

Apparently, while most Ancients are born into the role, ruling over their domain, some can grow into it. It’s rare, practically unheard of, but not impossible.

Danny is growing into the Ancient of Stars, changed from the inside out by his love of space.

He would be happy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Danny can’t sleep at night anymore. When the stars are out, he can hear them singing, each windchime voice echoing through his ears. Though he can’t see them from beneath Gotham’s cloud cover, he can feel them shining brightly far above him.

He lays in bed with Duke, curled up in his side, trying to muffle his whimpers as his bones creak and hollow, his soul growing too large for his body to handle. He is space contained in a human body. It wants to be free, to stretch from its suffocating confines and fill every dark space with cold light. His skin feels too tight and his teeth ache.

All Danny can do is clench his jaw, wrap his arms around his stomach as tightly as he can, and try to weather through the pain of changing.

The agony of it comes in waves. He doesn’t know how long it takes until it recedes enough for him to feel like he can breathe again, trying to suck air in as his lungs are crushed by his ribcage. Slowly, Danny pushes himself up, taking care not to wake Duke, and stumbles out of bed. His throat is dry and feels as if its been scraped raw by sandpaper, and all he wants is water.

He gets halfway down the hall when the next wave hits.

Danny collapses, gasping for breath, and can only watch through tear-filled eyes as his fingers go dark, the same black as deep space. His body shifts, bones cracking and muscles stretching like taffy, and suddenly he’s big larger than life a galaxy a black hole there is darkness everywhere it is alive it is full of stars the stars are singing the stars are singing the stars are si

“Danny? Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

That’s Duke’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere, even from miles away, even when he’s sure he doesn’t have ears anymore. It takes all his effort to pull himself back to Earth, back into their apartment, blinking up at Duke as the stars in his eyes fade away.

Duke kneels before him, concern clear on his face, gentle hands reaching out to hold Danny steady. The feel of his warmth grounds him, keeps him more securely in his body. The pull of space is still there, tugging at him, trying to pull him out of humanity and into the form of an Ancient, but Danny can resist it so long as Duke keeps him tethered to the ground.

“It hurts,” he croaks, shivering.

“Shh, I know, baby. How can I help? What do you need?”

Danny leans forward, burying his face in Duke’s chest as tears slip out of his eyes. “It hurts,” he says again, voice shaking. “I keep changing and growing and my entire body is being torn apart and—” he gasps, cutting himself off. “I keep disappearing. I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay here but it takes me away and then I’m too big and no one can see me and I’m alone—”

“You’re not alone, Danny,” Duke says, holding him tightly as if his arms will be enough to keep Danny from breaking out of his own body, ridding himself of a mortal vessel, his only remaining tie to this world. “I see you, and I love you. Even if you have to change and go far away to be happy, I’ll find a way to follow you there, okay? I’m with you for as long as you want me.”

“I don’t want to hurt so much,” Danny whimpers, black fingers speckled with stardust clawing at Duke’s arms.

“Just breathe through it, sweetheart, you can do it. Let it pass through you. I got you, okay? Just let the pain pass and you’ll be fine.”

He wants to snap at Duke that it’s not fine, that the pain will be forever, it’ll linger in every one of his joints, that he can’t just stop fighting it because it’ll hurt even worse then. But his jaws are aching, his teeth sharpening, and there’s a black hole in his throat that he refuses to let loose. He lets out another pained whine, shivering, and in his chest a star is formed, burning bright and angry.

“Breathe, Danny, breathe,” Duke soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Danny’s back.

It’s habit to relax into his touch. They’ve spent so many nights working through night terrors and injuries, comforting each other through gentle touches. The pain eases a bit, and Danny sighs, frost on his breath.

“There we go, sweetheart, that’s it. You’re doing just fine.”

Another tear slips down his face, but the ache in his entire body as his growing ghost form tries to escape begins to fade.

He’s spent so many nights in pain, waiting for the sun to rise to muffle the singing of the stars. If he can get any relief, he’ll take it, even if it means losing his human form.

Danny stops fighting. His resistance to this change falls away. There’s a moment where the pain disappears entirely, the world going still, but before he can let out a relieved sigh, the change hits him like an asteroid, sudden and instant and inevitable.

A cry is ripped from his throat, but it doesn’t sound like him. It echoes, deep and inhuman, and suddenly Danny is every dark space surrounding the stars, the arms of every galaxy, suns burning bright and dying, supernova, cold and ice and the slow drifting of planets in orbit. His body grows, expands, no longer a ghost but an Ancient, body curling into itself to stay within the walls of the too small apartment, large hands cupped around Duke to keep him safe.

He can feel the cold of space. Orbits dance in his mind. Meteorites and asteroids drift without pattern across his chest. Danny can see everything with too many eyes, and he can cup planets in his palms, so much larger than possibility. His chest opens and expands and his body can curl around Earth and keep it safe.

He feels settled in this new body, senses stretched in every direction and the universe is so much lovelier than he could have ever experienced it in a halfa’s body.

Danny, Ancient of the Stars, hums and the universe shivers, singing back to him.

The pain is gone completely. He wonders why he resisted so hard; this is what he’s meant to be. He’s never felt so right before.

“Danny?”

Duke’s voice is small, but only because he is small when compared to Danny in his Ancient form.

Duke, he tries to say but his vocal chords have changed. Instead of words, a deep hum erupts from his throat, similar to the purr of a particularly large cat.

“Hey, sweetheart. Feeling better?”

Danny nods, pulling himself back together to feel his body more keenly, no longer stretched across the universe, cradling every star in his reach. Duke reaches a hand up and Danny reaches back, folding himself back into his body. His human eyes return and he realizes the apartment is completely covered in darkness with stars sparkling all around them. It recedes as he fits himself back into his body, the black on his fingers fading away until his hand is indistinguishable from a normal human’s.

He takes hold of Duke’s hand and tries to stand. His legs are weak and unsteady and he falls onto Duke, who catches him with ease and sweeps him up into a princess carry.

“There you are, honey,” Duke says, voice warm and relieved. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel a lot better.”

“Good. Do you need anything? Hot chocolate, heating pad, sleep?”

Danny thinks for a moment, then says, “Hot chocolate.”

“You got it. Let me just set you on the couch and I’ll have it out in a minute.”

He carefully sets Danny onto the couch, then tucks the blanket they keep folded over the back around him. Once he’s satisfied Danny is comfortable, Duke heads to the kitchen, flicking on the light as he does.

Danny sinks into the couch cushions, carefully moving all his fingers and toes to make sure they’re fine. He’s a little sore, as if all his bones where put through the ringer, but it doesn’t feel any different from when he has a particularly rough training day.

What’s more important that his physical body is the fact that he can feel his core, settled deep in his chest. It’s no longer the cold of ice, but it burns coldness, a white star embodying his soul, a changed core to reflect his transformation into an Ancient.

A baby Ancient, technically. He still has some growing to do, but the rest should be easier and, hopefully, less painful.

He closes his eyes and begins to drift off when he hears Duke return. It takes some effort to open his eyes, and his smiles softly and sleepily when he sees Duke set down two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Love you,” he mumbles, freeing a hand from the blanket to try to pull Duke down to join him.

Duke goes to him easily, sitting next to him and pulling Danny in to cuddle against him. It’s been so long since he last felt so comfortable at night, not writhing in pain and biting through his lip to keep quiet, that he can’t help but sink into it. A purr starts up in his chest, and Duke startles.

“Sweetheart, are you purring?”

Danny flushes and tries to hide his face. The purr doesn’t stop. He’s always been able to purr after becoming a halfa, though purr is just an easier way to describe it. It’s less of his vocal chords vibrating and more of his core rumbling in contentment. Usually, it’s unnoticeable, barely able to be felt let alone heard. Apparently, becoming an Ancient and therefore a much stronger ghost means his purrs are also stronger and louder.

“You’re so cute,” Duke says, pressing a kiss against Danny’s forehead. “Drink your hot chocolate, and then we can go back to sleep.”

He makes grabby hands at his mug, and Duke laughs and picks it up for him.

“Love you,” Danny repeats, voice less muffled.

“Love you, too,” Duke says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m glad you were there to help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out. I’ve got you, sweetheart, always.”

Believing him is the easiest thing Danny has ever done. If Duke says he’ll be there for, then he will.

Always, always, always.

. . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #you ever think about how painful transformation must be? especially for eldritch danny turning into something human into something not?#yeah :) hurt and comfort!!#duke best boyfriend of the year tbh we all need a man like him in our lives #imagine the next time duke is in danger and danny comes to help and this human guy suddenly GROWS and his body unfolds and a mass of stars #and space comes out demanding in a voice that makes ears bleed that they leave signal alone or face the consequences #anyways after that gotham knows that the signal is loved by some monster/god so they try not to piss him off too much #this is all good and fine until goons and criminals make danny shrines and leave gifts and snacks on it so he'll show them mercy #and duke has to scold danny about not eating suspicious shrine snacks #thanks for the prompt!!

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teyamskxawng · 2 years ago

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In Heat [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

The rundown: You seek out Lo'ak, your best friend, in the midst of your first heat cycle. Like the good friend he is, Lo'ak eases you through it.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 5.5k

A/N: user @teyamsxawng's first fic is about lo'ak??? yeah...i have neteyam fics in the works but this was the first avatar fic i wrote so i'm pushing it out now :) i'm also really scared to post my work so please be kind lol. i have like six chapters of this fic written so far with no clear ending in sight, so expect to see more of this soon.

Your first heat was about to begin, and you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you heard would be an excruciating experience. You had a rough idea of what your first cycle would entail–discomfort, fatigue, and a touch of humiliation–but little did you know just how much it would affect you. Bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grappled with an intensity you had never anticipated.

As you lay on your sleeping mat in the solitude of your home, you curled into a tight ball, desperately trying to cope with the nearly-unbearable pain. The sensation was comparable to harboring a living, breathing creature within you, its heartbeat sending shockwaves of agony throughout your body.

You imagined it being a tiny drummer, vigorously banging its drums in tune with your torment. Hopelessly, you squeezed your legs together, desperate for even the slightest relief amidst the immense pressure emanating from your core. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected your heat to be this intense and all-consuming, turning your routine upside down and leaving you at the mercy of your body.

Amid your futile attempts at alleviating the mounting pressure with your own untrained fingers, you realized that you had no clue what the fuck you were doing. Your anxiety levels skyrocketed as you envisioned the possibility of exacerbating your situation, fearing that you'd end up hurting yourself even more if you tried anything on your own.

With every passing moment, your mind betrayed you–compulsively circling back to the one individual you were trying to distract yourself from: Lo'ak, your best friend.

Tackling that emotional behemoth would be a mental expedition akin to scaling the Hallelujah Mountains with your eyes closed, and you lacked the cognitive stamina for such an endeavor. Regardless, the stubborn recollection of the boy proved to be relentless, a mental scratch that demanded to be itched. Memories of his ability to make your world right again resurfaced, and you couldn't help but contemplate that maybe he was the secret recipe to your current dilemma.

You couldn't deny that you were on the verge of making a catastrophically bad decision, one that would go down in your personal history book as an all-time low. However, it was as if your body had mustered all of its strength to overpower your subconscious completely, that annoying little voice of reason, and take matters into its own hands.

Before you knew it, you were on your two feet, feeling slightly wobbly but determined, run-walking out of your tent like a woman on a mission, seeking out your best friend.

You didn't even have to engage in any sort of exuberating journey to figure out where he'd be. It was as if your very soul could smell him.

His clean, robust musk seamlessly mingled with the sweet spice of his cleansing balm, creating an alluring fusion that your senses simply couldn't resist. The aroma captivated you entirely, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, your feet carrying your body toward the source of sensory delight.

Venturing into the forest, you kept a discreet distance from Hometree and the rest of the clanspeople, desiring solitude, with the only exception being Lo'ak.

You stumbled upon him near a shallow creek, his posture keen and attentive as he scanned the water for signs of fish darting through its depths. His back was a mesmerizing sight, his dark blue stripes tracing the outline of his sinewy, lean muscles.

So alluring was the view that you clenched your fists tightly, restraining yourself from fulfilling the irresistible urge to reach out and touch him. It was as if every fiber of your being demanded that you do so, and it took every ounce of your willpower to resist.

Against your will, an entirely embarrassing sound that was half sigh and half whimper escaped your lips. The unexpected noise caused Lo'ak to jolt in surprise, his hand swiftly reaching for the dagger at his hip as he whirled around to confront the sudden intruder.

In a fleeting moment, the anxiety etched on Lo'ak's face dissolved, replaced by mild amusement as he realized it was none other than his best friend. However, it didn't take long for his concern to resurface as he took in your bewildering appearance.

It was clear you were utterly discombobulated, a far cry from your usual poised demeanor. Your cheeks were flushed a deep purple. Your usually sleek, well-groomed hair had gone rogue, appearing as though you had either been tossing and turning in a fitful slumber or wrestling with a goddamn palulukan.

Adding to your unkempt appearance, your chest was drenched in sweat, heaving rapidly up and down as though you had just sprinted to your location yet still found yourself gasping for air. But what really captured Lo'ak's undivided attention, and sent a shiver down his spine, were your eyes.

Gone were the golden irises he knew so well, replaced by a dark hazel hue that was almost brown. Even more disconcerting, your pupils were dilated to an unnerving degree, appearing as wide as your irises themselves.

Without hesitation, Lo'ak rushed to your side and extended his arm to grasp your forearm gently. "y/n, are you good? You look kinda…"

He couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. The only way he could describe you was looking completely disheveled. And the sound you made earlier was definitely not something he was going to dwell on.

You blinked at Lo'ak's hand on your arm. You heaved several deep breaths, attempting to compose yourself. Opening and closing your mouth, it was evident you were wrestling with the right words to convey your thoughts. Eventually, you shook your head in defeat and covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly.

Witnessing this only served to heighten Lo'ak's concern. He furrowed his brow as he studied your condition. "y/n?" he inquired nervously, imagining the worst-case scenario.

Still shielding your face with your hands, you managed to mumble something that might've resembled a sentence. Lo'ak couldn't help but let out a snicker that briefly reverberated through his body. Regaining his composure, he tilted his head in confusion, entirely unable to decipher your garbled words. He admitted honestly, "I have no idea what you're trying to say."

You sighed in defeat. The close proximity of Lo'ak, combined with the overwhelming frustration you felt between your legs, completely overshadowed any embarrassment you may have otherwise experienced.

"I said," you started, your dark eyes fixated on Lo'ak's with an intensity he couldn't ignore, "I just started my first heat cycle." Lo'ak's eyes went wide with shock at your confession.

Of all the things he'd imagined you saying, this possibility ranked the lowest on his mental list. He found himself at a loss for words and unsure what to think or do, especially as he involuntarily pictured you in a state of undeniable sexual frustration.

In response, all he could muster was a weak "oh," his voice faltering mid-syllable, making the situation all the more awkward.

You emitted what sounded like a pained groan, your emotions threatening to overflow into tears. In a vulnerable gesture, you allowed your forehead to rest against Lo'ak's shoulder. He couldn't help but tense up in response to your warm body pressed against him.

"Lo'ak," you whispered through clenched teeth, "it hurts so bad."

Lo'ak found himself struggling for air in the tense situation. With a shaky nod, he attempted to comprehend your words and determine the next course of action. As your best friend, it shouldn't have been a shock that you sought him out during your time of need, especially when that need was your first heat cycle.

Lo'ak hesitantly cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence there. "Uh. Are you gonna be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Blinking repeatedly, your eyelashes tickled Lo'ak's shoulder, causing him to shudder. Your voice was filled with uncertainty as you admitted, "I don't know. I can't… I'm scared I'll make it worse or hurt myself or…I don't know. I just need—"

Your grip on Lo'ak's arms tightened, your words trailing off. The message was clear—you had no idea what to do, and you were scared, turning to Lo'ak for solace and support.

In that instant, Lo'ak found himself filled with a sudden surge of empathy and understanding. With newfound determination, he placed his hands on your back, extending his fingers across your skin as he gently rubbed up and down.

Upon feeling his reassuring touch, you exhaled sharply, adjusting your position to bury your face in the crook of his neck. For a while, you two simply remained like that, sharing gentle caresses and the soothing sound of your uneven breaths.

At last, you found your voice amidst the silence. "Lo'ak," you whispered, your tone holding a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability.

It was barely audible, a faint whisper in the wind, yet Lo'ak caught it without any trouble, and he could undeniably sense the subtle movement of your body, inching even closer to his.

At first, Lo'ak couldn't tell whether you had done that deliberately, but then you shifted your weight further down onto his leg, nestling his left thigh snugly between your own two legs, ever so gently grazing yourself on his taut muscle.

Lo'ak had to consciously remind himself to breathe, to inhale and exhale, because there was no way that you could possibly be getting yourself off on his leg. Shamelessly. Completely unapologetic.

The physical contact must not have been enough to provide you any relief, as evidenced by the fragmented cry of aggravation that reverberated against his neck. "It's not…."

Lo'ak fully understood your sentiment, nodding his head empathetically at your frustration. "No, yeah. Here, let's just—"

He pulled away from you, or rather, he gently moved you away from himself, extracting a barely audible whimper from you. He held you delicately by the shoulders, keeping you at arm's length, and his heart plummeted at the sight of the tears that meandered down from your glassy eyes.

You were hurting and in distress, and witnessing it tore Lo'ak apart. In a flurry of motion, he reached out to cradle your face, tenderly wiping away each persistent tear with the pads of his thumbs.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration as you tried to keep your composure. His gentle touch drove you to the brink of madness. You loathed feeling so exposed and powerless, particularly in Lo'ak's presence. You took solace in the fact that, at the very least, he wasn't poking fun at you or rubbing salt in your emotional wounds. No, he was actually being kind.

In a soft voice, Lo'ak said, "C'mere," as he retreated towards an enormous tree trunk. Gently placing a hand on your wrist, he coaxed you to follow him. And in your current state of emotional upheaval, you found yourself unable to resist his pull.

Lo'ak found a comfortable spot on the forest floor, casually sitting against a tree trunk with his legs stretched out before him.

"You can sit if you want…it might be easier," he offered, attempting to hide the fact that his own face was now flushed with what could only be described as a matching shade of purple to yours. The tension of the situation was not lost on either of you.

He didn't need to tell you twice. In a move that bordered on comedic desperation, you practically threw yourself onto Lo'ak's lap, settling on his left thigh with a soft sigh. The newly adjusted position felt infinitely better than before. The direct contact sent shivers down your spine, and the pressure on your core momentarily eased as you clamped your thighs around his leg.

You were desperately chasing that tantalizing feeling, and you could hardly bring yourself to feel a hint of shame as your body instinctively pursued it.

With an almost artful finesse, you adjusted your hips to attain the perfect level of pressure on your front. You were acutely aware of the dampness that began to form on Lo'ak's thigh due to your wetness, and even though a flicker of internal mortification plagued you, you simply couldn't find it in yourself to halt your actions.

With each move, you felt Lo'ak's leg flex beneath you, inadvertently applying exquisite pressure against the sensitive nub at your front.

The sensation was nothing short of divine. It was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but let out a moan of pleasure—a sound foreign to your ears but not significant enough to make you care.

Lo'ak, on the flip side, was experiencing an entirely different world.

His senses were fully alert, allowing him to take in every sight, sound, and feeling that unfolded before him in real-time. The whole situation played out like the most incredible, wet, thrillingly vivid dream he had ever encountered.

Desperate to maintain his composure, Lo'ak clenched his hands tightly against his sides, so much so that his knuckles turned a few shades paler than their initial blue.

As he attempted to stay as collected as possible, he couldn't help but wish for some magic remedy to sort out his persistent erection. It pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth at an awkward angle as if it were mocking him.

You unexpectedly interrupted his chain of thought, your voice sounding broken and desperate.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out, your eyes clenched shut as your mouth fell open, unable to suppress another moan. "just feels so good."

Lo'ak observed you with the utmost attention, his heart clenching tightly within his chest. In a barely audible volume, he softly reassured you, "Don't apologize; it's okay. Do what you have to do."

He was confident that, despite his subdued tone, you could hear and understand him fully.

You inhaled deeply, your breath quavering as you attempted to calm yourself down. Your tongue swept across your parched lips, and you swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. You found yourself unable to respond, yet continued experimenting with different rhythms and levels of pressure, determined to find the optimal approach to take yourself to the verge of ecstasy.

As your quest yielded fruitful results, you began better understanding your body.

With every sway of your hips, you experienced a surge of delight that coursed through your entire being. Each motion brushed your most sensitive areas against Lo'ak's narrow, muscular frame, sending chills up your spine.

You could feel your breaths growing shallower and more rapid, the warmth of your breath caressing Lo'ak's skin as your eyes remained tightly shut in indulgence. You allowed yourself to fully enjoy the moment, unabashedly taking advantage of his presence for the sake of your own pleasure.

As you continued, the tension within your abdomen stretched further and further, like a taut rubber band about to snap. Beads of sweat formed on your glistening skin, and your panting filled the air.

The overwhelming sense of pleasure threatened to pour forth, and your toes instinctively curled in response to the inevitable release building inside you. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out a delicate mewl while elevating the speed of your motions.

You uttered desperately, "I'm so close, Lo'…fuck. It's so much." Your voice, filled with raw emotion, dripped with anticipation.

As that blissful sensation intensified within your lower abdomen, teetering on the edge of release, Lo'ak took a deep swallow. His voice was low and throaty as he softly whispered to you, providing reassurance and encouragement, "You're okay, y/n. Just let yourself go."

His words were just what you needed, a string of curses falling from your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over and your walls clench around nothing. Your face softened with pleasure as you let out a shaky exhale, still sliding your now completely oversensitive clit across his thigh.

With a whispered sigh, Lo'ak reassured you, "Just like that, I've got you. It's okay." His hands tenderly left their perch at his sides, returning to the relative safety of your back. Gently, he stroked your soft skin, providing comfort as you descended from the peak of your intense high.

His soothing words and embrace gave you warmth from within, a sensation of security wrapping you up like a comforting blanket. You couldn't deny the feelings that Lo'ak's presence evoked in you.

At this point, one would presume you had suffered enough self-inflicted humiliation for a single day, but no.

As quickly as you bid farewell to your recent high, an insistent, throbbing ache woke anew within your deepest core. The previous experience proved a mere prequel, a teasing overture for the reverberating need you knew you just could not ignore. Your desires for touch and release cried out incessantly; Lo'ak was nestled beneath you all the while, painfully tempting—so close yet so frustratingly far.

With a gulp of determination and an unceremonious discard of any remaining semblance of pride, you peeled your eyes open, greeted by the half-lidded, entranced gaze of Lo'ak. His voice laced with curiosity; he inquired, "Is it better?"

You knitted your forehead together, desperately attempting to articulate the whirlwind of feelings that surged through you. It was a monumental challenge, one that left your mind racing with a relentless barrage of risqué thoughts involving what you desired Lo'ak to do to you.

Sighing, you muttered to yourself, "How is it still there?"

Lo'ak, on the other hand, was doing everything in his power to grasp the situation and figure out how he could alleviate your distress.

Puzzled, he inquired, "How is what still where…?"

In response, you actually hissed at Lo'ak, baring your fangs and all, unable to contain your frustration. He was so stupid. So warm and strong and pretty and stupid. You thought this as your eyes roamed over his strong, warm, and undeniably attractive figure.

"The urge, skxawng!" Your body involuntarily responded by undulating your hips against Lo'ak's leg. His eyes drifted downward for a moment to follow your movements before refocusing back on your face with concern.

You continued to explain, "The urge to be touched, I don't know why it's still there."

Suddenly, you glanced down at your own body, only then becoming aware of the rhythmic motion you had been unconsciously performing. In an effort to regain some semblance of control, you dug your fingernails into your thighs, willing your body to cease its movements.

Lo'ak grunted at the sight of you holding yourself back, the grip on your legs tight enough to cut off your circulation. Unable to stand it anymore, he pried your slender fingers from your thigh and gently took your hands in his own, much larger ones.

He tried to make eye contact with you but soon realized you were lost in your thoughts, staring intently at your lap. With a bit of patience, he finally managed to catch your dark irises when you fleetingly looked up at him.

"Okay," he began earnestly, "just tell me what I can do to make it better."

Though a bit hesitant, his voice was full of sincerity and determination.

Much to his surprise, your eyes widened even further. Shock, hope, and a dash of something else filled them all at once. He was really giving you complete freedom, entrusting himself to you to alleviate the pain of your heat.

With that, you decided to take the leap. "I want you to use your hands on me," you murmured, bringing yours and Lo'ak's intertwined hands toward your abdomen.

You watched Lo'ak's facial expressions with keen interest as you hesitantly guided his fingers to your most intimate spot. Despite the thin fabric separating his digits from your flesh, you couldn't suppress the breathy moan that escaped your lips.

"Right there," you continued, your voice trembling as you released your grasp on Lo'ak's hand. To your immense relief, his fingers didn't retreat. Instead, they maintained gentle pressure, sending pleasant tingles throughout your lower body.

Suddenly, it was as if Lo'ak had awakened from a daze. He looked up at you with curious desire evident in his eyes but still managed to convey his genuine concern.

"You're sure?" he inquired with the utmost caution, seeking all the verbal affirmation he could possibly get. No matter the circumstance, he would never let himself exploit you in such a vulnerable state.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at Lo'ak's search for reassurance.

You couldn't help but think that Lo'ak asking for consent would be an irresistible turn-on under any other circumstance. However, given your state of urgent need, you craved immediate physical touch and control, no questions asked.

In a display of impatience, you threw your head back in exasperation, your own hand carelessly venturing beneath your loincloth to explore the fiery depths of your core.

"Please," you managed to utter, despite never being one to steep as low as begging. It was embarrassing, but that was genuinely the only word that managed to take shape in your mind amidst your overwhelming desires.

Lo'ak, finally sensing the critical nature of the situation, offered a hastened nod to the increasingly desperate girl before him. His heart pounded with exhilaration as his trembling fingers made short work of loosening your loincloth.

Captivated, his eyes were drawn to the now fully exposed treasure that lay between your legs.

Despite the circumstances, an undeniable blush spread across your cheeks, leaving you feeling more exposed than ever before.

With utmost care, Lo'ak gently guided your legs further apart. His fingers, like tendrils of affection, traced a delicate path around the contour of your knee and then traveled along the length of your inner thigh. Their journey didn't end until they arrived at your already glistening core. A single, adventurous fingertip glided gingerly along your lips before hesitantly prodding at your entrance. Your spine stiffened involuntarily, a sharp gasp emitting from your lips.

"Shit. Does it hurt?" Taken aback, Lo'ak's eyes widened as he witnessed your intense reaction—his reassuring self-assurance evaporated.

He immediately interpreted your pinched expression as a sign of hurt or discomfort. Alarmed, he became a living statue, daring not to move a muscle, his finger maintaining its intrusion of the slightest degree.

With an air of bewilderment, you stammered, "No, it's just so different," struggling to put your experience into words.

"Is that a bad thing?" His panicked gaze searched for your eyes.

Trying your best to control your emotions, you responded with a bit of a quiver in your voice, "No. No, it's really good. Keep going."

Lo'ak let out a shaky, relieved exhale, thankful that he wasn't causing you any discomfort. He proceeded with a short nod, allowing his finger to submerge into your eager embrace.

Your jaw went slack, eyes flickering in surprise, head tilting back as you reacted to the new, fuller sensation. The taut muscles in your abdomen quivered as you fought the urge to press yourself against him even further.

Lo'ak maintained a leisurely rhythm with his finger. A tender whimper escaped your lips as you adjusted to the near-overwhelming sensation, waves of undiscovered pleasure enveloping you, easing the fiery longing at your very core.

"Shh, you're okay, y/n," Lo'ak murmured softly, the hushed vibration of his words coursing through your entire body. A warmth flooded your face, and you quickly looked down, suddenly feeling feverish.

Seemingly unfazed, a second of Lo'ak's fingers joined the first, proceeding at their unhurried speed while your own hands struggled to find something to occupy, something to keep you grounded in reality.

You reached a hand out to grasp his shoulder–your grip probably bordering on painful–while your other hand covered your mouth in a hopeless bid to stifle the embarrassing sounds you kept unconsciously making.

"Oh, fuck." You mumbled, your hips twitching as his thumb grazed over your swollen clit.

An overwhelming wave of delight crashed over you, unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It built in the pit of your stomach, erupting into a continuous stream of moans that escaped from your lips while Lo'ak performed the entrancing move once again.

With one last deft stroke of Lo'ak's thumb, you reached the peak of your sensations. All you could do was mumble out an embarrassed string of apologies as you shattered around him, legs shaking, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of your second climax.

"No, you don't have to apologize. That's it, there you go." Lo'ak whispered above you, his hands securely gripping your hips. He watched you in a mixture of amazement and disbelief as you came undone on top of him.

In the aftermath of your unforeseen encounter, you and Lo'ak found yourselves sitting together in a tense, stunned silence.

Lo'ak's fingers remain deeply lodged inside your warmth, a vivid reminder of the unexpected turn your meeting had taken. While slowly regaining composure, Lo'ak's thoughts naturally drifted to his own throbbing predicament. He fervently attempted to push those intrusive musings aside, focusing all his mental strength (what little of it he had left) on anything else that might've provided a reprieve.

To distance his mind further from his own problem, Lo'ak mustered up the courage to break the otherwise heavy silence.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he managed to ask, "How about now? Does, uh. Does it feel better?" His question, though well-intentioned, seemed to hang in the air, almost as if it were searching for a suitable landing spot.

Still catching your breath, you eventually acknowledged Lo'ak's efforts. With a meek nod and a quiet, "Yeah. Thank you," you did your part in attempting to lift the air of awkwardness that had befallen the two of you.

In response, Lo'ak merely mimicked your nod, his gaze drifting back to the delicate situation of his hand's continued connection with your lower half. A determined expression graced his face as he gently gripped your waist, carefully guiding his fingers free from your tight warmth.

The ridiculously obscene squelch of the movement caused you both to flush, despite everything you'd just done with each other.

As his fingers slid away, moistened with your slick, you were overtaken by a deep, almost primal desire to capture every last trace of yourself from his fingers. You felt absolutely unhinged.

Lo'ak, completely unaware of your internal struggle, stared at his own hand, held up between the two of you. His eyes widened in disbelief and amazement as he realized the impact his touch had on you.

Unsure of how to handle his newfound emotion, Lo'ak stealthily tried to wipe his hand on the lush grass beneath him, but your sudden vice-like grip stopped him.

Your eyes blazed with a mixture of desperation and wild abandon, yet you couldn't bring yourself to explain your overwhelming urge.

Instead, you gently guided Lo'ak's hand close to your face and took two of his soaked digits into your mouth. A soft moan escaped your lips as you savored the taste, feeling the fullness of his fingers as they filled your mouth.

You hastened your efforts in cleaning them, the graceful movement of your lips against his skin bringing you a sense of intense warmth and satisfaction as the previously overwhelming sensations within you began to subside. Finally, you released his hand, but not before planting a series of tender licks across his fingertips, ensuring that nothing remained.

As you finally met Lo'ak's eyes, you became painfully aware of the fact that you had just come on your best friend (twice).

Not only that, but you had to go and make matters even worse by practically worshiping his fingers with your mouth. The heat in your cheeks intensified as you gingerly placed Lo'ak's hand back in his lap.

With a desperate need to refocus your attention, you quickly averted your eyes from the boy to avoid being tempted by any further impulsive behavior. You busied your fingers with the painstaking task of reattaching your undone loincloth, double knotting the ties as if that would erase the memory of your exposed lower half from Lo'ak's mind.

Managing only to utter a brief "Sorry," you could sense the tension in the air. It was almost palpable.

Lo'ak, however, responded with a calming and reassuring deep voice, "You don't have to apologize."

You snorted inwardly at the thought that that was at least the third time he had said some variation of those very words to you in the last ten minutes alone.

You offered a subtle nod, unable to bring yourself to look at, speak to, or even touch your friend at that moment.

In a sudden, jerky movement, you disentangled yourself from his leg. You planted yourself on the forest floor, sitting against the same tree trunk that supported Lo'ak.

You couldn't help but glance back at his thigh, noticing the glistening evidence of your prior proximity. Your heart must have stopped beating for a good few seconds. You squeezed your eyes shut, mentally chanting a string of curses in a bid to cope with the irrepressible embarrassment that swept through your body.

The tense silence that ensued felt like an eternity, each moment stretching out painfully while the muted sounds of the Pandoran forest hummed in the background. Your mind raced, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan.

You really, really needed to leave. Like, yesterday. But you were still firmly rooted in your spot, too terrified to move even a muscle.

Then, without warning, the quiet was shattered by the violent rustling of leaves nearby. As if summoned by your wishful thinking, Neteyam appeared through the greenery. He wore an exasperated expression upon seeing you and his brother sitting together against the tree.

"Lo'ak! Dad sent you to fetch a single fish thirty minutes ago! What are you doing?!"

Neteyam's patience was wearing thin as he grabbed his brother by the arm, dragging him to his feet, his eyes probing for a reasonable explanation.

"Shit, bro. I'm sorry! I was fishing, I swear. But then I ran into y/n, and…" Lo'ak's voice trailed off, his eyes darting toward you as he recalled the events that transpired during your brief encounter. "…she just needed my help for a minute. It was really important."

Neteyam exhaled loudly in frustration, clearly annoyed at his brother's excuse. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his composure, and then fixed his glare upon Lo'ak, followed by you.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized you both, sporting matching blushes and attempting to maintain nonchalant expressions. Neteyam knew you two all too well; you were always getting into some kind of mischief together.

But today, he decided, he could spare you the grilling session. With an exaggerated shake of his head, he urged Lo'ak toward the direction of the creek, giving the back of his brother's head a not-so-gentle nudge as he passed by.

"A single fish," Neteyam mumbled, running a hand over his braids in disbelief as he glared at his brother.

You sensed that your chance for a getaway had finally arrived–it was now or never.

Your muscles tensed, eager to lengthen the gap between yourself and Lo'ak (or any other living being within your vicinity, for that matter). You sprung to your feet and hastily ran your fingers through your tousled hair, attempting to tame its disarray. You smoothed your top and made sure that your loincloth was properly adjusted.

"I should get going," you stammered, trying to swallow your nervousness. "I have some…um…chores I need to finish."

Both boys turned their attention toward you, with Neteyam giving you an amicable nod while donning a warm smile. Lo'ak, for his part, offered you a tender smile of his own, causing you to stifle the shy grin that threatened to conquer your entire countenance.

As you stood there, poised for your great escape, you were reminded of the delicacy and reassurance that radiated from Lo'ak just a few minutes prior.

Lo'ak, typically the embodiment of immaturity—a foolhardy best friend in the purest sense—managed to make your heart flutter with his tender warmth, nurturing you through your dire ordeal. He took care of you, offered praises and soothing words, and fuck. You wanted it again and again.

Abruptly, you snapped out of your daydream, realizing you were meandering down a dangerous tangent. You shook your head, as though physically trying to jolt your mind back into reality.

"Thanks, Lo'ak," you managed gratefully, making eye contact with him for just a bit longer than was probably necessary. "I mean it. For helping me."

Lo'ak, seemingly caught off-guard by your intense gaze, replied with a faint but earnest, "Course."

All the while, Neteyam couldn't help but furrow his brows at your peculiar exchange, very much aware of the odd dynamic between you two.

Sensing the need to move forward, Lo'ak immediately added, "Let me know if I can help you again."

Blushing at the implication, you nodded your head vigorously, fully aware that a similar scenario might very well arise in the future.

You offered a hasty wave to the two brothers before you spun around and embarked on your journey back to your home, navigating the wild landscape, distractedly ducking under low-hanging branches and batting away intrusive leaves.

There was no way you were making it through your first heat cycle alive.

Keep reading: Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak smut #lo'ak smut #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #avatar 2022 #lo'ak fanfiction #james cameron avatar #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak

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celestialbruise · 2 months ago

Note

Can you give Taxian-jun and Chu-Fei a happy ending in their timeline? ❤️🙏

let me just say I LOVE YOU for this!! this truly feels like fate, because the morning I received this beautiful prompt the first thing I thought of when I woke up was 0.5 ranwan and I spent the entirety of my morning routine thinking about a canon divergent fic where taxian-jun and chu fei get their happy ending then I logged onto Tumblr and found this ask in my inbox :’)

I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile and some day I would love to turn it into a fully-realized fic, but the basic premise is a month before Mo Ran lays siege to Taxue palace and Chu Wanning dies, he has a dream detailing the event, every last gory detail. it disturbs Mo Ran so much that he temporarily calls off the plan, and while he’s busy thinking of a way to destroy Xue Meng that won’t have Chu Wanning sacrificing himself, Chu Wanning manages to save him in the interim.

spoilers past erha volume six ahead!

to be completely honest I don’t know entirely how the flower works (I know about its existence but not much else) but in my head canon, aka for my own personal sanity, I do believe that there is a way for it to be removed, and in this AU Chu Wanning removes it, and though it would take time, and healing, in the 0.5 timeline, they would find their way back to each other, and they would never again part.

I hope I was able to do your prompt justice, as I truly had such a wonderful time writing this<3

In the lonely dark, deep into the night, Taxian-jun woke with a scream trapped in his throat, desperately grasping a body that was no longer in his arms.

He was alone in his bed. No longer was he laying siege to Taxue Palace, kneeling in the blood-spattered snow, holding a deathly cold, winter-pale Chu Wanning who had whispered….

Who had asked him with his dying breath-

“Mo Ran…forgive yourself.”

Mo Ran tore out of Wushan Palace like hell’s hounds were nipping at his heels, ignoring how the winter wind bitterly nipped at his cheeks, at the wetness staining his face, intensifying the chill and its painful bite.

He couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t be.

He couldn’t leave Taxian-jun. Chu Wanning couldn’t leave Mo Ran.

If Chu Wanning left-

If he was dead, then-

What would Mo Ran have left? Who would he even be?

What would be the point of living in a world devoid of Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran ripped open the doors of the Red Lotus Pavilion, his feet automatically carrying him to Chu Wanning’s room, where he found Chu Wanning, lying in his bed, wrapped tightly in blood-red sheets, curled into a tiny ball, just as he always was. The sight both eased and aggravated something that seethed deep within Taxian-jun’s chest. He wasn’t able to breathe. Not yet.

In his haste he stumbled, almost fell, hurrying over the Chu Wanning’s side and without preamble or finesse, yanked one of his arms free from the blankets to clutch desperately as his wrist, searching for a pulse. Mo Ran only needed a single heartbeat to discern that, while softened by slumber, life did indeed still live inside Chu Wanning’s body. And then another heartbeat later, phoenix eyes fluttered open, moonlight catching on long, dark lashes that lifted to reveal hazy amber eyes.

“What-” Chu Wanning started, voice slurring with sleep, eyes only beginning to sharpen with that familiar hate when, without hesitation, Mo Ran pulled Chu Wanning into his arms.

“Wanning!” Taxian-jun gasped, wet, against the side of Chu Wanning’s neck. “You’re here. You’re okay,” Taxian-jun said this as if he couldn’t quite believe it. As if he daren’t hope.

“Mo Ran!” Chu Wanning thrashed inside his arms, hitting his shoulders, but Mo Ran bore it. He wouldn’t risk loosening his grip even a fraction. If he did, if he was careless, if he allowed Chu Wanning to slip away from him, a ghost once more…..Mo Ran hugged him tighter, tight enough to break him. Tight enough to break them both. Soon, Chu Wanning’s struggle ceased. He stilled, stiff and awkward in the cage of Mo Ran’s embrace. When he spoke next, his voice was quieter, a question Mo Ran had no idea how to answer, unable to grasp what the question even truly was.

“Mo Ran?”

Mo Ran shuddered, pulling away, looking into Chu Wanning’s sharp phoenix eyes, eyes that glimmered with light, with life. Eyes that had gone openly, nakedly wide.

“You aren’t allowed to leave this Venerable One,” Taxian-jun hissed vehemently, his heart a painful beat inside of his chest as his hands cupped Chu Wanning’s face, forcing him to meet the fire raging in Taxian-jun’s eyes, the flames that threatened to swallow them both. “Do you understand? This Venerable One forbids it! I forbid you from - who do you think you are……”

“Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning gripped his wrists, pulling Mo Ran’s hands away from his face. A face, Mo Ran realized with a start, that was shadowed, filled with too many lines to ignore. “Calm down. You’re shaking.”

Was he? Impossible. But as Mo Ran glanced down to where Chu Wanning’s pale hands tightly gripped his wrist, he noticed his fingers flexing, curling around nothing, wracked with unceasing tremors.

It was cold outside. He’d run straight out of his bedroom, dressed in only his inner robe….of course, he was shaking. He was furious - Taxian-jun was livid, filled with fiery anger that would not abate, that roiled through his veins like fire. It was maddening. It had nowhere to go. Taxian-jun couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make sense of it, why it felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. All he knew was that he had held Chu Wanning’s cold, lifeless body inside of his arms, and it had felt real, in the way nothing had in a long, long time. Chu Wanning had left him. Chu Wanning had left him behind, and he wasn’t supposed to leave Taxian-jun, not until Taxian-jun allowed it, which he never would, because Chu Wanning was his, dammit. Despite his hatred, or because of it, Chu Wanning was Taxian-jun’s, and Taxian-jun was-

A cough crawled up his throat, and another, and another, until soon his chest was heaving, his ribs shuddering, his lungs bereft of all breath. Distantly, Taxian-jun registered the taste of blood filling his mouth, cloying and astringent. Taxian-jun felt like laughing. Mo Ran felt like crying.

But when Mo Ran saw Chu Wanning lift a hand towards his wound, a flare of panic ripped through his heart, an icy-cold, paralytic horror he hadn’t felt in years. Mo Ran caught Chu Wanning’s wrist, squeezing, needing the reassurance of a pulse.

“Don’t. Don’t do it,” Mo Ran rasped, hating how his voice broke. “If you heal this wound….I’ll never forgive you. You can’t.”

Chu Wanning looked at him, brows furrowed, mouth set in a soft frown. Taxian-jun hated it. Hated how Chu Wanning would take this pathetic display as weakness. He was probably judging Mo Ran right now, sneering at him inside his heart, thinking him such a fool-

Taxian-jun almost flinched when the back of a soft, cool hand came to rest against his forehead. He felt his lips part, but no words came to rush out. No insults, no curses, no words of pure, unadulterated hate.

Foolishly, for a moment, Mo Ran wanted to call a name that he hadn’t in years, “....Shizun?”

“Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning whispered, a cold hand cupping his cheek, a gentle thumb drying a stray tear he hadn’t realized had fallen. “You must wake up.”

Taxian-jun stared at him, dazed. “Wake up?” He muttered, shaking his head, voice shrinking as he breathed, hesitantly. “This is….just a dream?”

The delicate jut of Chu Wanning’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, “Mn,” and then, with featherlight fingers, ever-so-carefully, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Taxian-jun’s ear. For a second, Mo Ran found himself leaning into the touch. “It’s just a dream.”

“I didn’t know,” Mo Ran told him, hushed like a secret. “It felt so real. This Venerable One….is confused. I’ve just been so confused, lately. It’s Xue Meng’s fault. This fucking wound - it hurts, all of the time. My chest won’t stop hurting. It’s driving me insane.”

Mo Ran bit his tongue before he could reveal more. Even in a dream, it felt far too vulnerable, far too stupid to reveal such a fear. Mo Ran had ears and he heard all the rumors the people whispered below his throne. He was a tyrant. He was bloodthirsty, cruel, worse than a beast. He was losing himself.

He was going mad.

“Wanning, how do I….how do I know what is real?” Mo Ran muttered, burying his face inside his hands to hide his burning eyes. He was just-

Mo Ran was tired. So, so very tired. He ached, down to his very bones.

“Lie down,” Chu Wanning murmured, guiding Mo Ran to the bed. “You’ll feel better after you’ve slept.”

Something in Mo Ran protested this gentleness - surely it was only a prelude to more cruelty? But exhaustion was a heavy, pressing force. Inescapable. Like a limp puppet, all strings cut, Taxian-jun allowed himself to be arranged supine, and though every fiber of his being shied away from the almost gentle way the blankets were tucked in around his body, for some reason he couldn’t muster up the strength to bat Chu Wanning away, like he normally would have. In fact, Mo Ran couldn’t seem to tear his eyes, lucifugous and hot, away from Chu Wanning at all. And when Chu Wanning stood it was entirely involuntary, the way Mo Ran’s hand shot out to grab his wrist.

“Will you be here, when this Venerable One wakes?” Taxian-jun asked, and maybe he meant it as a threat, but it came out as a desperate plea. Still, the derision and contempt he had come to expect from Chu Wanning was nowhere to be seen on his visage which looked in the shadows, simply put, haunted. Conflicted.

Lovelorn.

“Mn,” Chu Wanning sat down beside him, and didn’t try to free himself from Mo Ran’s grip. “I’ll be here.”

“You won’t leave?”

“I won’t leave.”

“Promise?”

“....I promise.”

Taxian-jun nodded, and though he began to drift, caught in-between veils of the living world and the insensate realm of black, his grip around Chu Wanning did not loosen, and he still found himself whispering a question, one he somehow knew only Chu Wanning held the answer to.

“Do you think dreams have any meaning?”

Just before unconsciousness could claim him once more, a whisper rang through his ears, soft-spoken yet achingly clear.

“Sometimes.”

Then….Mo Ran just wouldn’t go. Chu Wanning couldn’t do anything foolish so long as Mo Ran stayed to make sure he behaved. Right? He couldn’t let Xue Meng live, or that damn Mei Hanxue - but he could think up another plan. He had time.

Chu Wanning didn’t know how long it had been since Mo Ran had cried in front of him. Certainly, not since he was a boy

That meant he was still in there, somewhere. A heart still beat within the blackened, thorny brambles wrapped around Mo Ran’s chest.

There was still hope.

There was still a way back from hell.

Chu Wanning’s breath shuddered as it left his lungs.

He wouldn’t leave his disciple. He wouldn’t stand back and watch as Mo Ran lost any more of himself than he already had.

“It will be okay, Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning murmured, watching how the moonlight flickered across Mo Ran’s sleeping face, and how the knot of tension in between his brows only smoothed out when Chu Wanning squeezed his hand, tight, tight enough to leave his mark. “This master promises. I won’t leave you behind.”

#ranwan #mo ran 0.5 #chu wanning #mo ran x chu wanning #0.5 timeline #erha #erha fic #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #my fanfiction #danmei fanfic nightclub

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