#i stepped into reality so gently lol

[deesi-academia]

my biggest flex is that my parents never directly lied to me about Santa Claus

[thewidowsledger]

Bearer Of The Seed

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Targaryen!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Tags | Warnings: +18, HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU, AMAB!Natasha, Targayen!Natasha, smut, angst (sex just for the obligation of making heirs), forced marriage (political arrangement to save reader's family), Natasha plots to make reader pregnant while reader plots to deceive Natasha lol, lots of chasing, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, dubious consent, breeding kink, rough sex, bleeding (reader is a virgin), creampie, fingering (r receiving), overstimulation & squirting (r receiving)

Author’s Note: Tiger cub!!!! 🐅 Thank you so much for your request and I hope I wrote your request the way you imagined it to be. Yey, my first fic request done! There are more, hihi <3 ps. I am not actually back yet, I just wanted to post this ksksskskss

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⧗

“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

⧗

“Father, smith, warrior. Mother, maiden, crone, stranger…”

The words felt like acid on your tongue. Each one stinging you as they leave your lips. You loathed having to say them. You loathed having to agree. This wasn't some love match. It was the voice of a prisoner accepting their fate.

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Natasha, refusing to blink despite the tears forming. You will not cry. Not in her presence. You will not give her that satisfaction. So you try your best to stand tall, to be defiant. Though it's hard when you feel so completely defeated as you said the final words that will seal you both forever.

“I am yours...and you are mine. From this day...until the end of my days.”

The last word was hardly out of your mouth when Natasha took a step forward and captured your lips with hers. Natasha’s grip on your hips tightens as she pulls you firmly against her. Her lips are rough and insistent as they move against yours. You can feel the tension and desire coursing through her as she claims your mouth in a possessive, greedy kiss.

With what seems like great effort, Natasha breaks the kiss. She takes a step back and you notice a sly smirk slowly appear on his face as she watches you try to catch your breath and you so badly wanted to wipe that on her face. Clearly, she was enjoying the effect she had on you, but you will not make this easy for her.

You will make sure to play this game on your hands, not hers.

⧗

“Heirs…”

Hearing your now family bring up the subject of heirs, made you feel a lump form in your throat. It was something you'd tried to avoid thinking about, but you knew it was a reality you would have to face.

Natasha didn't even flinch. She seems confident and unbothered, like she has no concerns in that regard. She responds without missing a beat.

���Oh, we’ll have heirs. Plenty of them, in fact.”

Natasha's grip on your hands tightens slightly, you force a tight-lipped smile on your face as you struggle to appear calm.

“I will make sure that our marriage bed will not lack heat. We’ll have as many children as the gods see fit to bless us with.” She added with such confidence.

You knew that the celebration was coming to an end and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd—by her. The air felt hot and stifling. Without saying a word, you excused yourself but as you stood Natasha didn't let go of your hand. So you eyed her intently authoritatively and she immediately released your hand, you didn't miss the flicker of hesitation and fear in her eyes. Her usual confident and authoritative demeanor seemed to be gone for a moment, revealing just the slightest crack in her armor.

As you walked, a small smirk tugged your lips, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had the power to affect her in that way. For a brief moment, you felt like you were in control, that you had some bargaining power in this situation.

Of course you do, you will play this game right on your palm, right?

You stepped into the cool night air of the corridors outside, you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you as you thought about the fact that your family had been saved, you realized just how high the cost was. Natasha had saved you from ruin, but the price was steep. You were now the payment, a pawn in a larger game of power and politics. Knowing that you were traded like a piece of livestock in exchange for your family’s safety, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

One of the foremost was the fact that you will need to carry the child of someone you didn't really know. Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.

It is inevitable or perhaps it can be avoided?

You were lost in your own thoughts, worrying about your future, when the maid servant's voice broke your train of thought.

“The celebration is over, your Grace. The King will be expecting you in her chambers.”

Her words and the instructions were simple, but they sent a shiver of unease through you. But you wanted to test the waters, you wanted to test who among you holds such power to the both of you.

“Let her know that I am denying her request,” you replied coldly as the night breeze.

“But your Gra—”

“Tell her that.” you cut her off with a finality, “I’ll be at my chambers, I’ll retire early for tonight.” You added, hinting that if she wished to prove the power she has on you, she will come and show you.

The night slipped away and you opted for the secret chambers that only and your maester, Wanda knew. Inside, you hoped to find solitude and respite from the pressures and chaos of the day.

You stayed in the dimly lit room, the only light provided by a few flickering candles, as the night went on. You didn’t know whether or not Natasha had come to your original chambers, expecting to find you there.

But you will make sure not surrender yourself, not without a fight.

⧗

Natasha was growing increasingly frustrated as she recounted different excuses from the maid servants every time she inquired about you. She hadn't seen you since the night of your wedding, and the more time passed the more suspicious she became.

Another maid servant entered her headquarters and she is for sure to deliver another excuse from you.

“The Queen is not feeling well, you Grace.”

The maid servant stood before the King, her hands clasped in front of her nervously as she delivered her message.

“What happened? What does the maester say the issue is?” The suspicion that she had in mind is now gone and is replaced by a deep concern for you.

“Well, you Gr—”

“I will go and check on my wife.”

“I fear the Queen doesn’t want anyone in her chambe—”

“I’m not anyone, I am her King. I am her wife.”

Without another word of excuse, she rose from her seat and stalked out of the room. The King wasted no time making her way through the halls of the Keep, her steps were loud as she walked towards your chambers.

The moment Natasha stepped into the chambers, her eyes immediately fell upon your pale form lying in the bed. She was by your side in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch your forehead—and she could feel the heat radiating from you.

“Gods, you’re burning up,” she muttered, as she took in your sickly appearance.

Natasha's eyes darted to the maester as she confirmed that you would be fine in time, and that you had been examined already.

“And what is the cause of her sickness?” she questioned, her gaze returning to you.

Wanda cleared her throat, as she darted her eyes on your sleeping form. She breathed, shutting her eyes before she explained the cause of your illness.

“It appears the Queen has fallen ill due to stress and exhaustion,” she said with a shaky voice, as she watched Natasha softly caress your body. “And it would be best for her to be left alone for a few days, allowing her body to rest and recover,” she added, finally eyeing the King.

“Days?” Natasha repeated as if she didn't hear it clearly.

“Yes…”

Natasha let out a heavy sigh, her mind conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to keep you in her sight and she wanted you to be okay now so she could spend the nights with you fulfilling the obligations of making a long line of heirs. On the other, she knew the maester was likely right about your need for solitude and rest.

“Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed,” she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As she withdrew, she turned to the Wanda who was standing just outside the doorway of your chamber. “Do everything you can to ensure that she is well soon,” she instructed.

“Yes, your Grace.”

As soon as Natasha left your chambers, you slowly and stealthily got up from the bed where you had been feigning sleep. Your body trembled slightly as you inhaled deep breaths, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were grateful that your plan had worked, and that Natasha had believed your act of being sick.

Wanda, your trusted maester and ally in your plan, looked at you with a sigh as you got up from the bed.

“I told you hot water and a cloth would do the trick,” she said, referring to the method she suggested to fake your elevated temperature.

“I’ll have you full of my seed in no time.”

“My Grace, are you alright? Are you really sick now? You look pale.”

You snapped back to the present, your mind still replaying Natasha's words from earlier when she spoke to you while you were pretending to be in a deep slumber.

“I’m fine,” you assured Wanda, your voice a little shaky. “Just a bit…tired, that’s all.”

Tired of all this.

“Well, I shall leave you alone then, my Grace.”

Wanda has been the first person you became close with, and she has been nothing but supportive to cover up for you and your plans. You even heard her lie for you just a while ago and that was not even a part of your plan. But when the King asked about your condition—your fake condition, she still did with no hesitation.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

⧗

It had been several days since Natasha’s visit, and you had successfully managed to avoid her so far due to your pretense of being sick. Now, you were stepping out into the gardens, seeking a change of scenery and some fresh air.

The gardens were a lovely sight, the sun shining brightly and the flowers in full bloom. You strolled along the pathways, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

As you were walking in the garden, relishing the tranquil surroundings, your eyes caught a glimpse of something or rather, someone—in the distance. It was Natasha, standing next to Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.

Her gaze was fixated on you and you could tell that she was surprised to see you out and about, considering the fact that you were supposed to be unwell. And now, she is making her way over to you.

Your instincts kicked in immediately, and your first thought was to run. Without hesitation, you darted through the gardens, your heart racing as you navigated the twisting and turning paths of the maze.

As you ran, adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you quickened your pace, determined to elude her as long as possible.

You were dressed in a gown made of flowing silk, the fabric soft and lightweight against your skin. The hem of the dress brushed against the grass as you ran, occasionally catching on the leaves of the maze bushes.

You sprinted through the maze, dodging and weaving between the high walls of greenery. As you continued running through the maze, your heart rate spiked ever higher when you caught a glimpse of Natasha through the gaps in the leaves.

Seeing her so close, so determined to find you, sent another jolt of adrenaline through your body, the fight-or-flight response kicking into high gear.

Although you were aware that she would eventually catch you, you refused to let her have an easy victory. You steeled yourself, determined to play this game in your own hands.

The twists and turns of the maze became your playground. Every time you thought she was closing in, you would change direction, taking unexpected forks that would put some distance between you again.

As you sprinted through the maze, looking back in the direction you last saw Natasha, a sudden body slammed in front of you. The force knocked you off balance, catching you off guard.

A pair of hands locked around your arms, effectively trapping you, preventing any further escape.

“Are you running away from me?”

As you met Natasha’s intense gaze, your heart raced and your words came out in a slight stutter. “Y-your Grace…” you started to say, but your mind was too preoccupied with the situation to form a coherent response.

You gulped as you looked away, and then replied with a shaky voice. “No, your Grace,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the soil where you were standing. Despite your denial, there was undeniable fear in your voice.

“I was expecting that you’re still in your chambers, resting. Wanda told me you’re still sick.”

“I wanted to go out, g-get some fresh air…”

“You should’ve come to me so I will go out with you.”

“I…” you hesitated for a moment, wanting to be careful on how you’re going to say the next words, “I wanted to have some time alone, y-your Grace.”

Her grip on your arms relaxed slightly as she heard your response. “I haven't had a night alone with you since our wedding, Y/N,” she said, she sounded a bit disappointed that made you hitch your breath.

“Look at me.” She commanded, leaving no room for disobedience. And you slowly did, as your gazes met, her eyes softened with a little fire of an intense desire, and her proximity to you made your heart race even faster.

In a swift and dominating move, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you and claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Natasha sensed your attempts to resist so she deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding entry, as her hands on your arms pulled you even closer to her.

Your resistance was a futile battle and you finally surrendered to her but you fought not to moan as her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. As Natasha moved her attention towards your neck, her lips and tongue trailing along the sensitive skin, you tilted your head back, submitting to her control.

Her lips left your neck as she leaned towards your ear, her words a low, seductive whisper.

“I shall be expecting to see you in my chambers tonight.”

⧗

The evening had arrived, and Natasha made her way to her chamber, fully expecting to find you there—in her bed in all your glory. However, as she entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, but you were nowhere to be seen. Her initial confusion quickly turned into seething anger as she realized you didn’t follow her command.

She wasted no time and stormed through the corridors, her patience wearing thin. It has been far too long, and she is determined to have you, one way or another. Her strides were purposeful and filled with seething anger, her mind set on one mission.

To find you and bring you to her bed.

As soon as she stepped into your chambers, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. She approached the figure lying in the bed, she leaned closer to get a better look of you, and when she dipped her knee to the soft bed, the figure suddenly moved, emitting a piercing scream. Startled, Natasha let out a gasp, quickly realizing it wasn’t you but your maid servant.

“Y-your Grace!” The maid servant rushed out apologetically as she immediately threw the thick covers out her body and stood.

“Where is Y/N? Why are you in the Queen’s bed?!” Natasha demanded.

“Queen Y/N noticed I-I wasn’t feeling well and…well, I am fine but-but the Queen insisted that I am not fine,” the maid servant’s hands flew in different direction as she tried to explain herself, “and she told me…she insisted that I should rest, right here, in her bed. And she left.” The maid servant scrambled, the words coming out in a rush from her lips not wanting to receive the seething anger of the King.

“Forgive me, your Grace…please.”

The maid servant's continuous apologies grew quieter as Natasha's attention shifted. Her gaze moved towards the window, where she spotted a figure dashing towards the garden maze. She instantly recognized it was you, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. Ignoring the maid servant, Natasha stepped towards the window of your chambers.

Once again, you found yourself racing through the labyrinthine maze, your breath coming in short gasps as you desperately sought an escape. The twists and turns of the paths seemed to taunt you, creating a confusing web to ensnare you. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your mind focused on one goal and that is to survive the night without having to spend it on the King’s bed.

Natasha’s voice echoed through the night, “Making a maid servant sleep in your own bed, just to fool me?”

Despite the gasp that escaped your lips at the sound of Natasha's seething voice, you refused to let it slow you down. Your legs propelled you forward, your bare feet pounding against the cool grass as you continued your race through the maze. There was no time for looking back, only the need to elude her pursuit.

“You were never ill, Y/N!”

As you ran through the maze, the tears of fear started to well up in your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly shut. The emotions coursing through you were overwhelming—fear, defiance, and the weight of the situation hitting you all at once. Yet, amidst it all, a small part of you stubbornly held onto the hope that you could somehow escape Natasha.

Just as you rounded a corner in the maze, a strong body suddenly locked onto you, arms encircling you like a vise grip. Caught off guard, you let out a gasp in surprise, struggling against the strong hold. The realization that Natasha had finally caught you struck you like a bolt of lightning.

“I knew you heard me that time…I never lied when I said I will make sure you’re full of my seed.”

In a swift and effortless motion, Natasha scooped you up and threw you in her shoulders, her strong grip on your thighs unyielding as she carried you to her chambers. You tried to resist, squirming and fighting against her, but her strength was undeniable. Despite your attempts to break free, it was clear that you had no chance of escape.

The game is no longer in your hands. It never was.

The guards stationed nearby stood at their positions, their eyes averted from the scene. They could only watch as Natasha carried you flailing in her arms, your screams piercing the air. Fear for their own lives kept them in place, knowing full well that they could have their heads off if they bothered to look in your direction.

“Lock the doors!” she barked, her tone leaving no room for questions. The guards obeyed, swiftly securing the chamber doors, sealing you and Natasha inside. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled you onto her bed, the force of her throw causing you to bounce slightly upon the plush mattress.

“Strip,” she commanded in a low voice that made you shiver in fear, “Remove every piece of clothing you wear. I want to see my wife before me in all her naked glory. Do not forget to remove any trinkets or tokens you may be wearing.”

Your hands were shaking when you let your dress slip to the floor, revealing your vulnerable form, your body betrays you with gooseflesh. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over and cascading down your cheeks.

Natasha watched, sitting at the bed as you stripped the last piece of clothing out of your body.

Her cold, green orbs leisurely take in every inch of your bare flesh. They linger on the fullness of your breasts, the pebbled peaks begging for her touch. Her gaze trails down to the small, dark mole at the side of your breast, a unique birthmark that she commits to memory.

Her eyes continue their languid descent, taking in the slight roundness of your belly soon to be full of her seed, the flare of your hips, and the soft curls at the juncture of your thighs. She studies the glistening evidence of your fear and humiliation, the pink folds of your pussy already swollen and slick.

The shame of your nakedness burns through you like a physical touch, amplified by the fact that Natasha remains fully clothed. Her silken robes and velvet cloak seem to mock your naked form, the heavy golden brooch at her shoulder a stark reminder of the game is now holding place in her hands.

A cruel smile plays on Natasha’s lips as she sees the shame and fear in your eyes. She rises once more, her tall form towering over you. Her hands go to the sash at her waist, undoing it with deliberate slowness.

The silk slithers to the floor, pooling around her feet. She begins to slowly unlace her leather breeches, her gaze locked with yours. As the garment falls away, revealing her hardened cock, you can't help but gulp, your eyes wide with trepidation.

She stepped closer to you, caressing your cheek. You didn't know why but you leaned in to her touch as she wiped the tears off your face. She looked at your glossy eyes before she leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, yet commanding kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her to sweep her tongue inside, claiming your mouth as hers.

“Open wider,” she demands, breaking the kiss to gaze down at you. She tilts your head back further, forcing your mouth open wider. She kisses you again, this time her tongue probing deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth. She sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down gently.

Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your throat as her kiss becomes more intense. Her hands tangled in your hair and you can't help but moan softly, the sound muffled against her lips.

Natasha broke the kiss and sees the raw innocence in your eyes, the moisture making them glisten like jewels. Your lips are swollen and parted, a thin string of saliva stretching between them, quivering as you suck in ragged breaths. Her gaze darkens with lust and satisfaction.

“My bed has been lacking...heat,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. She reaches out, wiping the saliva from your chin with her thumb. “And you, my sweet, are going to warm it tonight.”

You took a step backwards and tilt your head to the side to avoid her touch.

“You make it difficult,” she says, her voice tight with frustration, “to fulfill the one duty that should be simple. I have conquered cities, bent knees to mine, tamed dragons...And yet, you make it hard for me to plant my seed in your womb.”

“Am I just a bearer of your offspring?” You pinched your brows together, finally eyeing the King as the tears cascaded down your face.

“Yes,” she replied bluntly, undressing herself, “in this, you are.” As her clothing falls away, revealing her breasts and her tanned, muscular body, she meets your gaze squarely. “But know this, my sweet, you are not just any bearer.”

“You are my Queen—my own wife who dared to deceive and defy me,” she says as she steps forward, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. “And when I have won, when you carry my child, you will be the mother of my heir.”

“And perhaps,” she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she leans over you, “when this is done, when my line is secured, you will be something more.” Her gaze holds yours captive. “But for tonight, you are simply the woman I must breed.”

Your heart shatters in your chest as she speaks those words. The cold, hard truth of her intent cuts deep, each word a knife twisting in your soul. You are not her beloved, her equal, but a tool, a vessel to bear her child and you knew it from the beginning.

Without you carrying her offspring, you are nothing.

Natasha then grabs you roughly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed. She climbs over you, positioning herself behind your ass.

With a sudden, brutal motion, she thrusts herself inside you, ignoring your cries of pain as she tears through your resisting body. She groans in satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as she begins to rut into you with merciless force, her dragon's strength overpowering any objections you might have.

“You are mine now,” she growls, her breath hot against your ear. “No more defiance, no more resistance. You will bear my child, as is your purpose.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, her hips slamming against your ass cheek with brutal intensity.

She pulls out of you suddenly, her thick cock glistening with your virgin blood. Natasha flips you over, pushing your hips in the bed. Her body pressed heavily against yours as she positioned herself between your legs. Without warning, she slams back into you, her dragon-sized cock splitting you open.

You're screaming now, your voice echoing off the walls as she fucks you with brutal, animalistic intensity.

She moves to silence your screams and releases your mouth long enough to trail her lips down your body, pausing to suckle at each breast roughly, her teeth scraping against your sensitive nipples.

“You are so tight around me, Y/N,” she groans, her voice low and possessive. “Your body was made just for my pleasure. Your virgin hole is so snug, clasping around me like a glove. You were made to be filled by me, to bear my children.”

Her hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, allowing her to bury herself deeper. As she grinds her hips against yours, she leaned down and your hands immediately claw at her back, your fingernails digging into her skin.

Her muscled back flexes under your desperate, clawing hands. You feel each ridge of muscle, the hard strength of her. Despite the pain she's causing, despite the brutal taking, your body responds to her, your core clenching around her cock as you feel her powerful body move against yours.

“Y-your…Grace…” you called out for her, mouth open as she tore you apart. You held her neck and the silver locks of her hair, your legs crossed at her waist.

“You’re my Queen.” She growled in your ear.

“Yes, your Grace!” You cried out in pain and pleasure.

“Then you will take what I give you, you will be painted with my seed and soon enough you’ll bear my heir.”

Her words made your pussy clench even tighter around her massive cock. She feels it, her thrusts becoming even more powerful as she drives her seed deep into your womb.

She straightens up, her hands gripping your hips as she slams into you one final time. Her body stiffens, her head thrown back in a silent roar as she finds her release. She grinds her hips against yours, ensuring every drop is deep inside you.

Natasha pulls out of you slowly, her eyes locked onto your well-stretched opening. She watches as her seed begins to leak out mixing with your virgin blood, a possessive growl rumbling in her chest. Without hesitation, she pushes the escaping seed back inside with her slender fingers.

“My seed stays inside you,” she continues to push her fingers inside you, scooping up her own seed and forcing it back into your walls, making sure it's as deep inside you as possible. She repeats this process several times, her fingers pumping in and out of you as she ensures her claim is secure.

The sensation of her fingers pushing into you, combined with the gentle throbbing from her earlier pumps, becomes too much to bear. You can feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. You moan, your voice barely a whisper.

“Your Grace...it's too much…”

She ignores your plea, her voice dark as she murmurs, “It’s Natasha for you, my sweet.” Her fingers continue to push into your overstimulated hole, the motion causing you to convulse around her.

“Natasha…” you stammer, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as the intense sensation consumes you. Her name on your lips, filled with such raw emotion, makes her own stomach flutter.

You convulse violently, your body shaking uncontrollably as a gush of liquid spurts out from between your thighs. Natasha muffles her approval against your neck, her voice thick with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of your spend.

“Say it again,” she demands, her fingers continuing to pump into you as the aftershocks wrack your body. “Say my name like that again, Y/N.” Her own control is slipping, your words affecting Natasha more than she’d like to admit. You whimper, your voice hoarse.

"N-Natasha...Natasha...only...only you…” Each word is punctuated by a sharp breath as your body continues to spasm around her fingers. She lets out a low groan, her head dropping to your shoulder as she listens to you beg for her alone.

“You’re so good for me,” she praises, her voice rough with desire. She withdraws her fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a hungry suckle. Her eyes never leaving yours as she does so, drinking in the sight of her Queen overcome with pleasure.

“From now on, you will sleep in this same bed as mine so I can ensure that you remain well-bred every night.”

[ferrarifever]

hawaiian heat | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: you and charles go out clubbing while on vacation in hawaii, but he isn’t a fan of the attention his girl is getting

warnings: jealous! & possessive!charles, extremely light choking, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p in v

wc: 2.7k

masterlist🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic so i'd really appreciate feedback! (also i'm scared this will flop lol). also requests are open or if anyone has prompt/headcanon ideas hmu because i’m always looking for (and need) inspo (and also mutuals because i’m new around here!) - stella♡

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

leading up to takeoff, you spent weeks making sure everything was perfectly prepared. you made sure to pack all your best swimsuits, your nicest outfits, and your finest jewelry. the opportunity to spend this much uninterrupted time with charles was rare, so you were determined to make the most of it.

filled with anticipation, the flight from monaco to maui felt like an eternity. you tried to downplay your excitement, but your plan completely failed once you arrived at the most picturesque villa you’ve seen in your life. it was the type you’d only seen online, and the reality you were staying there with the love of your life felt like a dream come true.

stepping out on the balcony of your room, you couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. so entranced by the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, you failed to hear charles joining you. you felt his arms, already warm from the maui sun wrap around your waist. he began pressing feather-light kisses into your neck,

“i can’t believe we’re finally here. i can’t wait to spend the week with you chéri” he whispered in between kisses

you momentarily turned your back to the water to face charles. resting a hand on his chest, you whispered back “i can already tell i’m not going to want to leave”

you lightly press against his chest, leading both of you back in your shared room. placing his hand over yours, charles fell back gently on the bed, pulling you on top of him. you align yourself with the monegasque, feeling him begin to press his hips into yours. you felt his hand grip your cheek, pulling your lips to his. feeling charles hands migrate to the bottom of your shirt, you knew the rush of heat that flooded your body could not be attributed to the hawaiian climate. fighting your desire, you attempt to pull away

“baby–” you mumble against his lips, trying to pull him out of his trance of desire.

“charles– c’mon baby i have to start getting ready” running your hands up his body, you push your hands against his shoulders to force yourself off of the driver. he did not hold back his displeasure, groaning and falling back into the mattress.

“the sooner we leave the quicker we can come back, love!” you yell back towards charles, while making your way toward the bathroom to get ready. dedicated to your goal of making the most of the trip, you picked your favorite dress out of your suitcase. might as well kick the trip off with a bang, right?

you pulled every trick in the book. you did your makeup to make your eyes pop. you styled your hair in the way you knew charles loved. the jewelry you put on was flashy, but not tacky. before slipping on your favorite dress, you put on charles’ favorite ferrari red lingerie set. the lace hugged your curves perfectly, giving you a perfect boost of confidence before going out. you slipped on a maroon satin mini dress, leaving little for the imagination. you knew you looked good, and anyone else you come across will know too.

after giving yourself a onceover, you stepped into your favorite pair of louboutins. you walked out of the bathroom, the clicking of your heels drawing charles attention away from his phone and up to you. he gasped quietly, sucking in air while biting his bottom lip.

“holy shit y/n– there’s no way we’re leaving this room” he choked out.

you giggled at your boyfriends awe before replying; “as amazing as that sounds, you know we would never hear the end of it if we’re late”

charles pulls himself off the bed, meeting you halfway. he gently pushes you up against the doorframe of the bathroom

“let them talk baby–they’ll get it once they see this dress” he says quickly before kissing you passionately

cutting him off before things get too heated, you push him away; “charles, seriously, lets not give them a reason to make fun of us on day one. we’ll regret it i promise”

charles groans dramatically, knowing you’re right but not wanting to admit to it. you grab your purse off your nightstand and give yourself one last look in the mirror before turning back to charles to ask; “ready?”

charles pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not to put up one last fight. he ultimately replies “ready,” before holding out his hand for you to grab.

you make it to the club with perfect timing, meeting up with the other drivers and their partners. charles politely greets the other drivers and with just a single glance at your outfit the other girls give you a knowing look.

as the drinks started flowing, you knew this was going to be a memorable night (if you can remember it in the morning). with enough liquor in your system, you joined the dancefloor with the other wives and girlfriends, while charles hung back in a booth.

you knew that when you learned over the bar to get another drink you were giving everyone a peak at the lacy set under your dress. with every sway of your hips, the skit of your dress rose higher and higher up your hips. you were having the time of your life, failing to realize that you were driving charles insane. you momentarily locked eyes across the room, and while you flashed a smile, charles lowered his eyebrows in dismay. as you turned back towards the dancefloor you felt charles’ arms wrap tightly around your waist

“i think you have had enough dancing for the night, hmm?” charles whispered into your eye

“baby c’mon…the night is just beginning!” you giggle back

“the fun will begin once we get out of here…it’s time to go” charles growls into your ear. your desire to fight back died as soon as you saw the passion in his eyes. a wave of heat flushed through your body, and you allowed the driver to grab your wrist and pull you out of the darkly lit club.

the uber ride back to the hotel was tense. as charles hand slipped higher and higher up your thigh, you had to use all of your will to not climb onto him in the backseat. as soon as the car shifted into park, charles was pulling you out of the seat and up to your room.

as soon as you heard the door shut behind you, charles pushed you back against it. alternating running his hand along the bottom of your dress and pinch the fabric, charles growled out

“you happy now? finally getting the attention you clearly desperately wanted in this dress?” his words sparked heat in your core and you failed to muster any reply, simply whimpering in response.

“mmhm? now that it’s just us, my bébé is shy?” he questioned. his hand finally migrated up your thigh to where you really needed him. he snapped the elastic of your thong against your core, continuing his teasing.

“charles…please…” you continued to whine. you knew you sounded pathetic, but your need continued to build in a way that led you to not think clearly.

as soon as the ‘please’ left your mouth, you felt charles remove his hand from up your dress and placed it carefully around your neck. he bent his knee between your thighs, holding you up against the door.

“you know bébé–if you asked that sweetly before we left i may be nicer right now. instead, you thought teasing me in front of the boys would end better for you. so right now i’m going to remind you that you’re mine and only mine.” he growled into your ear before migrating lower and lightly biting at your neck.

“i’m sorry” you apologized with a light smirk. making charles jealous was never your priority, but if it happened along the way you were going to enjoy the ride.

“prove it then” he snapped back. he increased pressure on your neck, slowly pushing you down until you dropped to your knees. you looked up at him, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster. he bit down on his lip in return, not wanting to praise you just yet. he nodded down at you, giving you silent permission to continue. you slowly unbutton his jeans. you know continuing to tease him is a dangerous game, but you know secretly charles likes it when you take your time with him.

you tug at his jeans, pulling his boxers down with them. his hard length bounces, hitting his abs. you take the opportunity to lick a long lick from the base to head of his length before taking his sensitive tip in your mouth. charles groans, throwing his head back as you take him deeper and deeper down your throat.

as your eyes begin to water, charles stretches out his arms before pressing his palm against the door to balance himself. the warmth of your mouth felt like heaven and he was doing everything in his power to ground himself.

your hands migrate to the back of his thighs, pulling him into you to take him even deeper into your mouth. you continue flicking your tongue below his tip, drawing obscene noises out of the driver.

he is able to center himself enough to look down and make eye contact with you. he quickly realizes he made a mistake, using your hair to divide the two of you.

“i’m not finishing down your pretty mouth tonight, cherí,” charles groans. just as you start processing his words, charles is pulling you off the floor and towards the bed. before either of you hit the mattress, charles is unzipping your dress. as the satin dress falls to the floor, your lace-clad body is presented to the monegasque. after taking in the sight before him, charles lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding

“mon ange” he says, gasping for breath. once you’re face-to-face you give him a quick peck on the lips before whispering in his ear “use me baby, i’m yours.”

charles pushes you back first onto the bed. he pauses for a moment to take in the view in front of him. still clad in lace with your heels, lips swollen, eyeliner running, hair tousled…you were a dream come true. he can’t hold back for long before collapsing on top of you. you pick yourself lightly off the mattress, leaving just enough space for you to unclasp your bra. as soon as you pull the red lace off your body, charles is attacking your skin with his lips.

he runs his hands down your torso before looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. he finally pulls them off after what felt like an eternity. his hands graze your thighs before making their way back to your core. he slowly runs a single finger where you needed him most.

“you're already so wet for me, bébé. no need to even prepare you, huh?” he says with a dry laugh. you didn't find it as funny, whining in return

“charles– please i need you so bad” you plead. he takes pity on you, sinking his middle finger into you. you moan slightly, you need for his touch your body had been begging for began to subside.

he continues pushing his middle finger in and out of you at what can only be considered a painstakingly slow pace. you continue your whining and muffled pleads, knowing it won’t do much at the moment

“who does this pussy belong to? hmm?” the speed of his words is a complete juxtaposition of his pace inside you.

“yours charles, yours!” you exclaim, “please do anything baby” you whine out. he was clearly not completely satisfied, but he took enough pity on you to move his thumb up towards your throbbing clit. the minute his thumb made contact with your throbbing bundle of nerves, you arched your back off the mattress. you attempted to moan out charles name, and although his title may not have been clear, your pleasure was.

as he began slowly rubbing circles on your clit, he added another finger inside you. you did not realize how deep the need inside of you was until this moment. you had no clue what to do with your body, alternating between gripping the sheets and running your hands through charles hair.

“now cherí, i’m going to be good to you today and let you get off on my fingers, you know why?” he questioned you, while quickening his trusting pace inside you.

you attempted an answer, but the fear of giving the wrong response and overwhelming pleasure led it to be incomprehensible. charles laughed slightly before filling you in,

“because i’m the only one who can make you feel this way bébé. none of the boys at that club would be able to make you feel this good with just his fingers” he announced. you nodded your head rapidly,

“only you baby–” you repeated like a mantra as you fell over the edge. your body spasmed and your stomach clenched and you screamed out. charles continued working you through your orgasm, slowing down his pace as you caught your breath. he slowly removed his fingers from where they were curled inside of you. he licked his middle finger quickly before holding them to your mouth. you began sucking on his fingers,

“now you can feel and taste how good i make you feel bébé” he says with confidence, knowing the power he holds over you.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. his wet hand moves down between your thighs, pushes them open just enough to make room for him. he continues leaning in closer to you before he whispers

“ready?” he asks carefully. you nod, using all your strength to mutter out a quick “yes.”

you feel his length slowly penetrate you, every inch pulling another gasp out of your lungs. he hands grip your waist as he immediately begins rocking in and out of you, filling you up with every rock of his hips. every thrust brought you closer and closer to your edge, and charles knew. he moves his hand from your waist back to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan at the additional stimulation. before you can process the added pleasure, you hear charles begin to speak,

“could any of the other guys in the club make you feel like this baby? hmm?” charles growls into you ear, frustration from earlier simmering back up

“only you charles! no one else, baby” you squeal out quickly. charles’ pressure on your clit gets faster as his thrusts get harder, pulling you closer and closer to your edge

“who’s are you bébé?” he growls out, keeping his explosive pace

“i’m yours baby! only yours! please” you scream out, gripping the bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself

“go ahead cherí, cum for me” charles says in the calmest tone of the night. with a scream of his name, your walls flutter around him as you cum on his cock. so wrapped up in your own pleasure, it wasn’t until charles grabbed your hips tightly and slowed his pace you felt him filling you with his cum.

he stills over you, both of you panting and fighting to catch your breath. charles leans to kiss you quickly before slowly pulling out of you. he rolls next to you on the bed, both of you still fighting your air. charles makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean you off. as you feel the cloth running up the thigh, you remind charles

“you know it’s always been you, right? and always will be?” you remind charles

“mmhm i know cherí,” he replies calmly.

he leans over to press light kisses on your neck before continuing, “...but i never mind a reminder” ;)

[xxknockoutxx]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃.

◉ 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

(Forgive me. It's my first time writing NSFW)

Tw: overstimulation, sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, crying, comfort, mention of positions (vague) and a couple of other things lol.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨

A huge silent room was filled with the sounds of moans and the repeated smacking of the huge bed smacking the wall. "F-fuck... Baby... You're so cute when you're like this.." Followed by the repeated slamming of his hips into you. By the arch your back was making you would assume that it would just break after one more thrust. The entire bed and its frame shook intensely and the room was filled with a vague sweet smell.

At this point your legs gave out already and you were laying on the bed taking it with nothing but a few whines and an intense grip on the pillow in front of you. "T-toru w-wait. I can't-..." He followed this up with a chuckle. "Don't worry just let me take care of you..."

The speed picks up and all you can do is feel. Blinded by your watery eyes, all you can see is a blurry pillow that's drenched in tears. Your poor cervix being hit every single time and repeatedly getting abused by Satoru's huge cock as it thrusts back in you deeper and deeper until... "Limitless!"

The entire mood and atmosphere of the room goes grey as he immediately gets up and checks on you. "Baby, fuck, I'm so sorry are you okay?" You twitch uncontrollably as you keep your face in the pillow trying to recollect yourself. Satoru grabs some water and snacks before coming back to you quickly and gently putting you in his lap.

"fuck... I'm so sorry..." You sniffle and look up at him. "I-its okay.. I was just a little overstimulated" Satoru had a face disgust with himself before you kissed his neck and jawline before leaving a long kiss on his nice red lips. "'s okay baby I know you just felt good..." He looked up at you and put his self disgust aside and grabbed the snacks/candy and shot you a worried "I'm sorry" look.

"Break?"

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨

"Fuck..baby, you look so pretty under me" You squirm under him as the thrust of his cock sends shock through your entire body. You were trapped under him with thighs putting infinite secondhand pressure on your chest while your feet hung over his shoulders.

" 'guru, wait- I... mmph!" Your whines were muffled by 2 long fingers entering your mouth. "Suck" Just then you followed his orders with little hesitation. But the more and more he thrust into your abused cunt the more and more your tears and numbness caught up to you.

The build up to your third orgasm was evident and it wasn't graceful. "S-Suguru!" He responded with a grin and even rougher treatment. "Overstimulated?" He said looking down at you. It was less of a concerned face and tone more of a condescending one. You looked up at him feeling like the pressure inside you was going to burst.

"Curse!" In an instant the reality had set in a few seconds late. He pulled out which made a small 'pop' noise. When he saw you gasping for air and clenching your thighs together. His mood shifted and he left to go fetch a towel. After cleaning up he put you to bed and let you rest after stepping out of the room.

When you woke up you noticed the soreness in your legs and chest was mostly gone and the fact that Suguru wasn't there. Confused, you sent a text asking where we went. "Y/N, sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to go that far. I should've stopped sooner, I'm downstairs right now and I got you food it's on the table I just figured you would want to have time to yourself after that" you could hear the guilt in his texts and that made you feel guilty. "No Suguru it's okay, I'd feel better if I were with you :)" "alright, I'm coming 🩶"

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

What a predicament to be in. Folded like a pretzel in the lap of your husband after a particularly rough day at work which led to the same treatment reflected in your sex life. Two large hands grip your waist and help you navigate up and down his huge shaft with subtle grunts.

"K-Kento-" "Quiet, All I need is another Hour" "that's the thing I don't think I have another hour in me-" A small pause was followed by a grunt. "Then I'll get my hours worth now" Restricting your hands and holding down your waist he thrusts up into you with intense speed.

It made you want to shatter right then and there. A growing feeling of sickness arises inside your stomach. "K-Kento... Wait... please" A giant hand silences your cries and the reoccurring hits on your cervix pushes you over the edge. Tears stream out of your eyes and your tongue sticks out of your mouth. "Overtime!"

His automatic husband mode completely overpowered his angry, tired, and needy personality. He took you off his lap and laid you down. "Honey, I'm so sorry are you alright?" You roll over to go under the covers with a shiver. "I'm fine kento, I just need some rest, please don't worry." Despite the alarm in his face he agreed. But he might use this as a reason for him to take a break from his sex life.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

At this point you're questioning if you're even alive or if you will be alive when you're done with this if you'll ever be done with it. Right now, being rammed into repeatedly, you lay there just thinking about your decisions which is even harder to do when you can't even focus on something as simple as speaking and breathing.

"t-toj-..." The feeling of his cock slapping your pussy over and over again, making you drool. "Heh, y'r putting on a show aren't 'cha?" In return all he got was a mumble and some broken moans. It was evident that you weren't in the right state of mind when being fucked dumb on his thick length.

"t-toji, I- I can't... 's too much..." A low groan and snicker came from toji as lifted you higher and fucked into you faster and harder. The pleasure and pain evident on your face as you both looked at yourselves in the mirror. Sure it wasn't his favorite position but having you in a full Nelson made him experience an excitement deep within him.

"Damn it, Broke Bitch!" You hiss. "Well that was just mean, doll" he looks at you with a half disappointed and confused face and puts you down. Which you immediately fell on the floor, face first because your legs gave up. "Help me, Brokie" "Nah I don't think I wanna after you called me a broke bitch and clocked out early"

"TOJI on everything I love, you not being one of them, if you don't get me off this dirty fuckin floor..." With a sigh and way too much attitude he obliged. "Fine ya big baby" He picks you up and chucks you on the bed. "Clearly you're washed up" your eyebrows furrowed. As you took sight of his boldness "And clearly your broke ass doesn't understand the fact that I pay the bills in this fucking house and if you don't get your shit together you gonna be sleeping with that fuckin cat"

"yes Ma'am" with a smirk you accept the blanket given to you and snuggle in the big velvety sheets. "Thank you, Brokie Toji"

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨

Straddling Choso was always one of your favorite things to do and he likes it too. "F-Fuck Cho! 's so good" "fuck.... Right there, Ma..." As you continue to ride him your legs slowly started to feel more numb. As good as it felt you didn't know how much longer you could bring yourself to doing this.

"Cho' I don't know how much longer I can keep this up" "Come on mama, you're doing so well..." Choso grips your hips tightly and continues to guide you on his cock. Giving you some words of support while doing so. Tears well up in your eyes as your body starts to give out leaving you to just silently cry for release.

Your hips crash down on his cock repeatedly as a nice silky white ring forms at his base. "That's it baby, just a little more...shit.." his grip only intensifies as he speeds up and gets slightly more possessive. "Cho' please, let's take a break!" "What...?" Clearly, he took that the wrong way which caused him to be even more possessive.

He wrapped his arms around you and thrusted faster. "Mine..." Choso was more terrified of you leaving more than anything so anything that sounded remotely close to a break up just broke him. "Blood!" The gears in choso's head stopped turning. He didn't even realize what was happening for around 10 seconds before he realized you used your safe word.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! Y/N, please forgive me!" Your mind was still fuzzy but you were still conscious enough to know that Choso was 2 seconds away from freaking out. "Hey, hey it's okay! I meant let's relax and take a break." You wipe your tears and his forming tears and you two just quietly cuddle and enjoy each other's company."

𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Even though you should be pretty used to overstimulation, this time is particularly worse because it wasn't just overstimulation. this time it was followed by teasing and it wasn't ideal because this time he didn't take it easy.

"c'mon brat, where's that pretty face gone?" Tears stroll down your face and cover your cheeks. Being fucked dumb on Sukuna wasn't knew but when he chose to be in his true form and in front of people, it was quite literally the worse experience ever.

"'Kuna... I can't.. 's too much-" like those pathetic mumbles were to do anything, the only thing happening right now that was different was the fact that he now seemed prouder in a way. Showing you off like a trophy for all of those lower than him to see.

"M-murder!" His eyes widened slightly as he came to a stop. Then they turned into one of boredom. He dismissed everyone before going back to you. "Brat what's the problem?" Trying to catch your breath while crying wasn't easy. It was even harder when he didn't pull out.

"Kuna, can we take a break, please?" You almost stumble over your words while trying to collect yourself. He takes you off his lap and places you on his throne.

"I'll tell Uraume to drop off some towels and clothes for you, when you are ready, come find me". He started to walk away leaving you with his kimono. "You know where to find me."

"thanks, Kuna..."

"...you're welcome Y/N"

✩*⢄⢁✧ ----.・。.・゜✭.・✫・゜.・。.・・.----✧⡠*☆

An: OMG ITS DONE. sorry everyone this isn't my normal writing style and I was also battling with myself about making it more graphic, I don't have a problem with that stuff but I have to get over the ick of writing it out. As for the safe words I didn't have them planned so I just spat out some bullshit. Ngl I actually felt a little weird writing it but y'know I ended up doing it so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ good for me I guess lol.

@smionrileyswifetehe

⏤͟͟͞͞✧𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.

[icypopz]

when their s/o gets injured ♡

↬ request from anon ; could I request the NXX boys with a s/o who received the injury while they were away and how would they take care of them during their healing process?

↬ notes ; artem wing (zuo ran), luke pearce (xia yan), marius von hagen (lu jinghe), vyn richter (mo yi) x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; hihi!! unfortunately i was quite busy this week so i wasn't as active 😵 also as someone who's often in hospital i rly related to this request :') but anyways i hope you enjoy!

↬ warning(s) ; reader has an unspecified injury to their foot, artem + luke carry reader (but they're crazy strong so they can def lift u up dw)

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ artem wing / zuo ran ! ]

as soon as artem heard that you were injured, he would want to drop everything he was doing and rush to be by your side at once. unfortunately, reality means that he can't just ditch his job, so he finishes his work so quickly that even celestine is surprised and he heads home at once.

upon seeing the state of your foot and the way you wince in pain as you try to hobble towards him and greet him, artem lifts you up like you weigh nothing and brings you straight to the bedroom. he surrounds you with a million pillows and if necessary, elevates your foot with a stack of cushions too. for the entire time that you're injured, artem applies for permission to work at home, and he'll be by your side day and night. whatever you need, he'll get it for you at once so you don't even have to lift a finger.

when he realises that you're feeling upset about your injury, artem would hold your palm in his, gently squeezing your hand as he listens to you talk about your worries. he understands that such a sudden injury can be earthshaking, especially when it results in such a loss of autonomy. but artem wants you to know that he'll be with you every step of the way until and after you're 100% healed.

more content utc !

[ luke pearce / xia yan ! ]

luke would be working at the antique store when you call him and tell him you've injured your foot while at work. his first emotion is complete and utter panic, he can't lose you again- but then he snaps back into focus and tells you he'll be on the way immediately. he grabs a bunch of things that might be helpful like an ice pack, bandages and cotton pads before driving to your workplace at lightning speed (he definitely runs a couple of red lights in his hurry).

once luke brings you home, he won't even hear one single word about how you want to help him, or how he shouldn't worry too much about you. he'll just carry you and lay you down on the sofa, putting on your favourite tv show to help pass the time while he goes to prepare a meal for you. he does his best to keep you as involved as possible, asking you about which spices you want, and walking to the couch just to give you a taste test. at that point you both remember that he's terrible at cooking, so you settle for ordering takeout instead LOL.

throughout the course of your recovery, luke flits about you like a worried butterfly. he doesn't want you to strain yourself, so even when you're taking your first few steps again, luke is the one who looks like he's going to pass out from nervousness. if you ever tell him that you feel like a burden because you aren't able to do anything for now, luke will reassure you with soft kisses and whispered words of comfort. as someone with a chronic illness, he understands how useless you can feel when you're bedridden, so he knows just what to say to help you feel better.

[ marius von hagen / lu jinghe ! ]

marius is actually the bane of his directors' existence. the second you call him and tell him you're injured, he dismisses everyone in the meeting room, muttering something about rescheduling it to another day. he leaves everything up to poor vincent, who's forced to deal with the wrath of the old men on the board of directors. marius drives way over the speed limit back home, and he doesn't care at all about the accumulated speed tickets he's going to have to pay - nothing is more important than getting to you asap.

once he's got you tucked into bed and is convinced that you aren't in mortal danger, marius is soo dramatic about the whole thing it's almost as if he's the one that's injured. "but i was so worried about you! you almost drove me to an early grave, is that what you want, mx lawyer?!" he clutches his heart and stumbles around the room, which at least succeeds in cheering you up a little. unfortunately, marius can't skip out on work to be with you because pax would probably fall apart in two seconds without him at the wheel, so he relies on payton to give you everything you need (it shows how much he trusts his butler that he even entrusts your safety to him).

marius would spend as much time with you as he could, always cuddled up next to you and resting his head in the crook of your neck as you thread your hands through his hair. he'll talk about everything under the sun, hoping it distracts you from your pain. when you confess that you've been feeling down because of your injury, marius comforts you the best way he can, letting you vent as much as you need to get everything off your chest. after that he tells you that he'll treat you like royalty every day if it means that you'll feel less bad about him doing it while you're injured.

[ vyn richter / mo yi ! ]

one of the perks of running your own workplace is that you can do whatever you want, and that is exactly what vyn does. when he hears you're injured, he informs his receptionist that he'll be unavailable for the next few days except for patients with extremely urgent needs that can't be handled by the nurses. with that out of the way, he calls ogier and drives home at once, not caring how many traffic lights he ignores.

anyone who saw vyn at the time might say that he was unbothered about your injury upon looking at the way he calmly handled the situation, merely asking you what happened and checking the prescribed medications. but you know better, because you notice all the small details about him that no one else would; the way his usually flawless hair is now messy, or how his eyes flicker to you every second as if you're going to disappear into thin air, or the way his hand is ever so slightly trembling as he holds onto you so tightly.

as a psychiatrist, vyn can spot the signs of how upset you are before you say anything, but he waits for you to tell him first because he doesn't want to put any pressure on you. when you open up to him, vyn isn't judgemental at all, he listens to you carefully and reminds you that your feelings are valid. after all, it must have been incredibly difficult for you to cope with such an unexpected injury, and he's so proud of you for being so strong. vyn would help you start to walk again, and the look in his eyes when you take your first few steps on your own almost makes the whole thing worth it.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[evergreen-endo]

CHAUFFEUR | Y. ENDO + C. TAKIISHI

cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, fluff to smut very quickly, car sex(?), reader gets fingered lol. uhh that's it i think. wc: 1.5k. a/n: this is p tame compared to my other works on here ✮ツ hope u enjoy anyway.

“Thank fuck,” you breathe, luggage in hand as you finally make it past baggage claim. It’s been a long few weeks on your business trip without Takiishi and Endo. While you enjoyed the peace and quiet at first, it quickly became lonely without them. They’re always there to help you relax after a long shift, or to listen to you complain about your boss, though it tends to turn into them threatening to talk to him for you. 

You wait on a bench outside the airport for Endo to pick you up, jittering with excitement. You’re sure he has plenty of stories to fill you in on– he’ll take any opportunity to talk about Takiishi– as well as pent up energy to take out on you. The thought makes you cross your legs and smile to yourself in anticipation.

The all too familiar low, rumbling purr of Endo’s car alerts you that he’s nearby, and you scurry to your feet. The polished black sheen of it rolls around the corner, definitely over the airport parking lot speed limit, and pulls up right in front of you, the brakes nearly screeching to a halt. You swear the driver’s side door opens before the car even comes to a full stop, and Endo's tall, tattooed frame prances towards you, muscled arms outstretched, with a bellowing, “Babyyyy!”

He’s just as excited as you are, and butterflies swarm in your tummy at the thought. As he closes the distance, you lunge towards him and get swallowed up in his warmth, face pressed against his pecs that bulge under his tank top. His voice is muffled against your hair when he murmurs, “I missed you baby, welcome home!” 

You giggle, “Not exactly home yet, Yamato. Countin’ on you to get me there.”

He presses a kiss onto the top of your head with an obnoxious muah, and mutters, “Got you, baby. Lemme get these bags off your hands.” As he turns to load your bags in the trunk, you startle a bit at the presence behind him you hadn’t previously noticed– Takiishi.

He stares, waiting for you to approach him. Staring back in shock, because a bustling airport isn't exactly his scene, you amble towards him, “O-oh. Chika. You came!” He blinks, and nods, fingers twitching at his sides, perhaps in anticipation. You fumble a bit in your steps toward him, and your eyes flit around his face in search of…well, anything, really.

The sound of the trunk slamming shut barely registers as you and Takiishi stare at each other, as well as Endo’s sing-songy tone, “Of course he came! I told you he missed you!” 

The comment has you beaming and craning your neck up at the man in front of you, hinting that you want a kiss without being too forward for his liking. But Takiishi, full of surprises as he is, pulls you to him by the back of your neck, making you yelp. The second your lips connect, his tongue is sliding against yours and nearly breaching your throat. He drinks you in like he’s trying to consume you, sucking and biting your lips until drool drips down your chin. Even then, he’s dipping down with his tongue to clean you up before he gets you messy all over again. His hands circle your waist and run down your hips, squeezing as gently as is possible for him. Ringed fingers dip under the hem of your shirt so he can smooth over the skin of your belly, making you squeak from the sudden cold. You’re brought back to reality when the airport’s sliding doors open beside you, and a group emerges, murmuring amongst themselves and letting out awkward coughs. 

Your eyes shoot open and you separate with a loud pop, a string of spit still connecting the two of you as you nervously laugh in their direction, averting your eyes while his burn into you, still. A deep giggle reminds you that Endo's waiting, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he leans against his car. His mouth is stretched into a smitten grin as he gazes at the two of you, completely infatuated, before he chirps, “Ya ready now?”

Endo opens the backseat door for you, like a gentleman, before a harsh grip on his wrist prevents him from closing it. Takiishi slides in beside you, grabbing the inside handle to slam it shut, almost crushing Endo’s fingertips in the process. Endo sighs to himself with a dreamy smile as he walks around to the driver’s side door. Lovebirds, he thinks.

The second Takiishi sits beside you, his hands are on you. Innocent at first— as innocent as he can be. He rubs and squeezes at your thighs as you rest your head on his shoulder and throw quick, tired responses to Endo as he blabbers on enthusiastically, oblivious to the scene behind him. 

“Did you touch yourself while you were away?” Takiishi whispers right into your ear, calloused palm trailing up your thigh. 

You nod your head no, and he tsks. “I don’t believe you.”

His fingertips dip under your skirt as he recalls the times you missed their calls in the past two weeks, claiming to be “too busy” to answer, even though you promised to call back later. He didn’t take kindly to your lack of availability. It was to the point Endo was nearly praying you’d pick up on the first ring, just so he wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around Takiishi until you graced them with a call back. 

He pulls your panties to the side, swiping a finger through your folds and breathing out deep through his nose at the feeling of your slick. Other than the kiss at the airport, he can’t think of any other reason you’d be dripping like this. So now, as he’s gathering your slick on the pads of his fingers to circle your clit, he wonders if maybe you truly went two weeks without touching yourself to the thought of them. Most importantly, him. The thought has him bristling, a searing heat behind his eyes and a tight pull in his chest. He kisses his teeth, unfamiliar with the feeling that’s been brewing in his gut since you left. So what if you were too busy to miss him? Your pussy clearly wasn’t.

In one movement, he’s down to the knuckle of his index. Your eyes flit to Endo in the rear view mirror, his own twinkling as he beams, rattling off plans he’s made now that you’re back. You’re half listening, nodding so Endo feels acknowledged and Chika feels encouraged— not that it would stop either of them from doing what they want.

You’re thankful for the way Endo never shuts up, or there would be nothing to cover the squelch as Takiishi slides a second finger in, curling them upwards and moving at just the pace you like. His rough fingers drag against your walls in a way yours never could, stretching you and reaching spots you long for when he’s not around. He scissors them, prompting you to spread your thighs further apart to give him more access. Pushing deeper into you, he feels around for the spot he knows will have you falling apart in no time. A gentle reminder that you have no business ignoring him again.

Endo's voice is merely an echo to you, but you're alert enough to register and muster out mumbled affirmations. It doesn't sit well with the man who's knuckle deep in you, waiting on you to give him what you owe him. Once he brings the heel of his palm down to grind against your clit, you’re fucked. There’s no way to hide the blissed out expression you wear or the desperate cant of your hips to match his tempo. 

Endo, still babbling on, checks the rear view mirror, nearly pouting at your lack of response, only to see the whites of your eyes and Chika latched onto your neck. Suddenly he’s quiet, and turning the music down too, so he can hear how sloppy you are as Takiishi pumps his fingers inside you. He’s not paying enough attention to the road to notice a pothole that directs Chika’s fingers straight into your sweet spot, forcing a loud, strangled moan out of you.

“Chika,” you whine, rolling your head back onto the headrest and grabbing at his thighs. 

“Hm. So now you wanna talk to me?” He angles his fingers to press up against that spot, over and over again.

“Can….hah! Ah..Chi—fuck!” 

“Use your words.”

“Chika….Chika can I cum? Please?”

He responds by pushing his fingers deeper as Endo takes a hand off the wheel to palm his aching cock. 

An obscene, drawn out moan of Takiishi’s name is followed by a sob, and you’re squirting all over his fingers and Endo’s leather seats. He removes them to lean forward and drag his hand along Endo’s cheek before dipping into his mouth. Endo moans as his eyes roll back into his head, swerving around on the road in the process. “Watch it.” Takiishi corrects. Endo nods rapidly, eyes lidded. Chika leans back and drags his gaze down your body, adjusting your skirt and patting your hair down. “Is that enough proof?” 

You’re still reeling from your orgasm, head fuzzy, “Pr–huh? Proof of what?”

“...That I missed you.”

[fanbasetwo]

first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?

IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂

✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON

001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader

002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.

003. GENRE , smut

004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.

005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K

MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.

Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.

In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.

So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.

The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.

“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”

“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.

As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?

Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”

You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”

He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”

Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.

You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.

It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.

The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.

“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.

Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.

You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.

When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.

Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.

"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."

Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.

His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.

"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.

"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.

Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.

"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.

"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”

Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.

A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.

Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.

"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.

"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."

He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.

"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."

You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."

NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[healmyhrt]

⌗ out of it, c. sturniolo

chris x fem!reader

summary: chris gets really drunk and begins to say things you and him both know he doesn’t mean.

disclaimers!: alcohol use, cursing, short

a/n: this is based in like the future like, chris has his own place n everything lols | also, we all know chris wouldn’t say these things guys, don’t take this to heart <3.

“chris?” i call through the front door. he had been ignoring my texts and calls for hours so i thought i should come and check up on him.

i unlock the door with my spare key. “chris, im coming in. okay?” i push the door open, and see a trail of beer cans to the kitchen.

following them, i meet a very drunk chris. he removes a bottle from his lips, and stares at me. “well, shit.”

i step closer to him, taking a look at the mess around me. alcohol everywhere, cigarettes burnt out on window sills.

chris looked terrible. his eyes were red and foggy, his hair was a mess, and his shirt had stains on it, probably from the alcohol.

“chris,” i start. he interrupts me, “come sit.” he guides me over to the couch, swiping beer cans off of it so i can sit. i sit on the clean couch arm instead. “are you okay?”

he tilts his head at me. “dont say that. im fine.” i purse my lips together, and finally sit next to him. he leans in to kiss me, and i pull away.

“what? so now im not good enough to kiss you?”

“its not that, chris.” i look around at the mess that’s surrounding us, then back at him. “what’s going on?”

chris takes another sip to stall away from the question. i stare at him, with worry in my eyes. “dont fucking look at me like that.” i can hear the anger in his voice. chris gets up, walking around.

i stand, not taking my eyes off of him. “chris, you aren’t okay right now.” i walk over to him. “let me get you the help you need, baby.”

i attempt to place my hand to his shoulder, and he dodges it. “dont fucking call me ‘baby’, matter of fact, you should go.” his words slurring.

“im not going anywhere.” i reply. chris stares at me, an angry expression across his face. “get the fuck out.”

my eyes start to water at his words. but i try to remember its just the alcohol talking. “no, chris—”

“LEAVE!” he shouts at me. chris stomps toward me, his breath reeking of alcohol. “i love you, chris.” i whisper out.

“yeah? well i fucking hate you.”

i stay silent, and gently bite my bottom lip as tears trickle down my cheeks. “you don’t mean that.” my voice cracking as the words leave my mouth.

“yes the fuck i do.” he enunciates each word as much as he can. chris gets in my face, our noses basically touching. he looks down at me, anger in his eyes.

“i hate you.”

i shake my head as tears begin streaming down my face. chris scoffs. “i mean it with everything in me. i hate you. i don’t need or want your help, and im better off without you. so, go. leave.”

i lick the tears up, and look at him again. “say you don’t mean it, and i’ll go if that’s what you really want.”

chris slams the bottle onto the ground, glass flying everywhere. i hold my head in my hands, and start. crying uncontrollably.

i guess this reality checked him, because his face immediately turned soft. “baby?” i look up, my eyes now red from crying.

i fall into his arms, and his squeezes me tight. he moves us slowly over to the couch, and lets me cry into his shirt, (that smelled like alcohol).

“i am so so unbelievably sorry, baby.” his eyes begin to water. i sigh, and hug him again. “say you didn’t mean it.” i whisper into his shirt.

“i would never mean anything i said. i do not hate you. and i am 100% not better off without you.” he frowns.

i kiss him, and cry into his lips. chris tucks my head back under his chin, and cradles my head. letting me sob into his shirt, he begins to do the same.

“i was so out of it.”

[oneforthemunny]

could i request some mafia!eddie pregnancy angst?

baby blues |mafia!eddie munson x pregnant!reader|

prompt: you're pregnant. eddie's scared. he does what he always does when he's scared; he runs.

contains: mafia!eddie so mafia themes, some mentions of violence and drugs, pregnant reader, unplanned pregnancy, angst angst angst, parental fears, past trauma mentions, fluff-ish at the end (you guys know I have to make it happy or I'll throw up lol)

Eddie had always heard about time standing still, frozen in fear, the Earth unmoving and stilling all around you. He'd seen it happen to others, sometimes he was the one inflicting it. Yet somehow, he'd never experienced it. Not even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun, a bullet lodging himself in his lungs.

Not until now.

Standing in the marble bathroom, your fingers at your lips, anxiously chewing on your nails, arm wrapped around your midsection protectively.

Suddenly, Eddie felt like he was under water, ears ringing and roaring, your muffled voice that he couldn't bring himself to register the words. He felt his breath leave him, one final push of air out of his mouth, heart stilling to a stop in his chest.

The pregnancy test on the counter. Positive.

Two beady red lines that ran down the test and straight to Eddie's nervous system, shocking him back into reality. "Eddie," You sighed, heavy, a little nervous- begging. Begging him to look at you, say something, anything to you.

Eddie blinked up at you, eyes far too wide and scared. Not the usual poker face Eddie held in times of fear. Oh no, that was gone. Gone was the rationality, the stoic expression he kept for you. Eddie was scared.

"Eddie, please. I-I know it's not what we wanted," Your breath stuttered. Of course it wasn't what you wanted. Neither one of you really ever planned on kids. It wasn't in the cards with this lifestyle. More importantly, with the danger that came with this life.

"Can you... Can you say something, please?" You whimpered, your hand curling into your sweater, grabbing at the material there over your stomach.

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes flickering from the counter back to you. "I-I don't know what to say." He admitted. That was true. His mind had gone vacant with fear, his own heartbeat in his ears was deafening, making it very difficult for him to think of much of anything.

Your lip quivered, fists balling beside you. "I'm sorry..." You muttered, unsure of what else to say. "I-I don't know how this happened. I went to get my shot and I was... I was on schedule and," You stuttered, heart shattering in your own chest. "And I don't know what to do, Ed."

Eddie didn't console you. Didn't wrap you up in his arms and tell you everything would be alright. Didn't tell you he'd handle it or not to worry, that the two of you would figure it out. Not like he'd done before.

No, this time. He just stood there. Just as unsure and scared as you.

***

"Rick," Ladonna's voice carried down the hall, her heels clacking with every step behind her. "Honey, someone's here for you."

Rick huffed, pushing out from under his desk. "Don, I'm busy. Can you tell them I'm not-" Rick wasn't expecting to see Eddie there. All curly hair and wide eyes despite the heavy bags under them.

Rick flinched, looking from his wife back to Eddie. "Jesus, kid, you look like shit." He muttered, scanning his frame.

Ladonna glared at him over Eddie's shoulder, patting his back gently before excusing herself. "Did we have a meeting or something? I didn't have anything down but-"

"-I need to talk to you." Eddie said, urgent but not shrill. An eery calm that had Rick's shoulders tensing, eyes cutting around out of instinct.

"Yeah?" Rick hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as cool and level headed as he could. "'bout what? What's wrong?"

"About my dad." Eddie said bluntly, eyes blinking. He looked young, like a scared teenager again.

Rick's heart lurched at the mention of Clint, mouth opening then closing. He let out a slow sigh, nodding gently. "Sure." He pushed the door to his office open, letting Eddie walk in.

Eddie didn't look around at the spacious walls or at the art lining them. No, he'd been in here too many times before, seen it before, and he was too scared to be interested. Instead, he sat on the couch, perched on the edge, hands clasped in front of him and knee bouncing.

Rick hadn't seen the kid like this in a while. Not since he first started, anxious that he'd fucked up when he'd shot someone trying to rob him. "So," Rick propped himself across from Eddie, sinking into the chair. "You want to know about your dad?"

Eddie nodded, hands pressed together in a white knuckled grasp, knee bouncing furiously, faster and faster at the mention. "Any reason why?" Rick pressed, eyes scanning over Eddie.

Eddie's breathing hitched, running a hand over his face, refusing to meet Rick's eyes. "I just... I need to know what he did." Eddie admitted with a shaky sigh.

Rick raised a brow. "You know what he did." He replied simply. "He handled the messy shit. Me and him both, actually, under David."

"No, I mean..." Eddie shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "What did he... How-How did he fuck up?" Eddie lifted his eyes, leg stilling entirely. The room was uncomfortably silent. "What did he do wrong?"

Rick leaned back, the chair groaning slightly. He watched Eddie, how he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, the rings on his fingers catching his eye. Specifically on his third finger, the way he twirled it around his digit with his thumb, fiddling with it anxiously.

Rick sighed heavily out his nose, nodding slowly. "So," He started, leaning forward. "Your girl's pregnant, isn't she?"

Eddie stilled, eyes widening in a dead giveaway. "How-How did you even-"

Rick shrugged, cutting him off. "Ed, you come to me, asking about your dad. You look like shit, like you're about to fucking give out on me at any moment. So either you're being haunted by Clint, or your girl is pregnant. Which is it?"

Eddie's throat bobbed, a hard swallow. "S-She just told me yesterday."

Rick's eyes bulged. "And you left?" He boomed. "Jesus Christ, kid, did you fucking tell her you were leaving?" Eddie's silence was answer enough. "For fuckssake, Ed. Your girl is pregnant and you run? What kind of bum does that?"

"I'm scared, ok!" Eddie exploded, jumping to his feet, arms out in exasperation, voice echoing off the walls. "I-I don't even know what to do, ok? I don't know why I left, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't... fuck, Rick, I don't know how to be a dad."

Rick watched him, his lips pressing together, eyes shining. He'd seen Eddie go head to head with guys double his side, not batting an eye once. He'd seen him get questioned by the feds, too calm and cool for them to crack him ever. Yet here he was, petrified, begging Rick for some sort of answers he wasn't sure he had.

"You wanna know what your dad did wrong?" Rick asked, calmly. "Clint was sloppy."

"Rick, I'm not talking about work. I mean-"

"- He was sloppy at his job, but he was sloppy as a dad, too." Rick said, jaw flexing gently. Eddie's shoulders deflated, blinking at him curiously. "You were young, and your mom... she was great, Ed. She did everything she could to keep you safe, but Clint... Clint was an alcoholic and a junkie who was too busy shoving half the stash up his nose to be a good dad or a good husband."

Eddie's heart dropped, sinking lower and lower into his chest. Rick sighed. "I know that's not what you want to hear. No kid wants to hear their dad's a piece of shit, even if you knew it. It's still shit to hear, but it's true."

"Great. Just great." Eddie threw his hands up. "I'm gonna fuck this kid up just like him and-"

"- Now, hold on." Rick stood, brow furrowed in challenge at Eddie. "When did I say that, huh? I never said that shit, kid. Don't be putting words in my mouth." The hard glare, stoic and serious flashed over Eddie's eyes for a moment before Rick continued.

"You want the truth? My honest to God opinion? Fine." Rick paused, taking a step closer to Eddie. "The fact that you're here. The fact that you're worried about becoming like your dad, worried about being a good dad, worried about keeping them both safe. That's enough to prove to me, that you're not gonna be like your dad."

Eddie hesitated, chin quivering before he clenched his teeth. "But I don't even know how to be a dad. I don't know what to do."

"No one does. Are you kiddin' me?" Rick scoffed. "You think any parent knows what the fuck they're doing? No. But they figure it out together." He glared at Eddie pointedly. "They don't fucking run. They stick around and they figure it out. Since when are you a runner, kid?"

Eddie felt his stomach twist with guilt, heart hammering at the image of you, still in bed, cheeks tear stained and shining in the low light when he slipped out late last night.

"I don't want to fuck up." Eddie whispered, shaky breaths that matched his shaking hands. "Don't want to be like my dad and ruin this kid... Ruin both their lives."

"Eddie, listen to me," Rick placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "You take care of them, you keep them safe, and you love them."

"What if I can't keep them safe?" Eddie rasped, eyes shining with fear.

"You will." Rick nodded, reassuring. "You care way too much. Clint... he got sloppy. You won't be like that."

Eddie nodded, swallowing at the thought of his mother. Rick squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You'll be a good dad, Ed. I know you will be."

"I hope you're right." Eddie said halfheartedly. "Doesn't feel like I'm off to a very good start."

Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, good thing you got some time to prepare, huh? Got some time to make it up with your missus too. If she doesn't castrate you after this. I wouldn't blame her if she did." Rick glared at him. Eddie nodded, face falling with worry as he looked down.

Rick walked around his desk, pulling the rotary phone and sliding it over to Eddie. "Call her and let her know you're alright." Rick nodded, walking towards the door.

"Thanks, Rick." Eddie muttered, but his eyes were soft, warm and genuine. He spun the dial, fingers tapping on the desk before he turned, speaking lowly into the phone.

Rick heard the shrill from across the room, Eddie flinching at the sound of what he could only assume was his furious wife. He left the room, making his way down the hall towards the bedroom, picking up the other phone off the hook, dialing a number.

"It's me. I need fifteen guys moved down in Hawkins. Back up... Send 'em some good ones down there... Yeah, just some extra muscle..." Rick muttered lowly into the phone. He knew Eddie had it covered, sure he'd be able to keep you both safe, but extra help wouldn't hurt anyone.

***

"She's pissed, Ed." Max muttered when Eddie made his way up the stairs of sidewalk. The redhead's arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him fiercely.

"I don't blame her." Eddie sighed, looking past her into the house. "Anyone else here?"

"Jeff. He calmed her down last night. Me and Gare were looking for you." Max replied. "Jeff told us you were at Rick's and... well, we got the guest room ready for you. Figured you'd be staying there for a while."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. You had every reason to be mad at him, furious and hurt. His heart lurched at the thought. "Can you get Jeff and... can you both give us some space?" Eddie asked, eyes softening when he looked at Max.

Eddie didn't wait for her response, climbing up the stairs towards the bedroom. He could hear the low rumble of the TV, hesitating for a moment before he turned the knob.

There you sat, perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over you, lips twisted and eyes narrowed in a look of pure rage. The dogs in front of you, sitting at alert when Eddie walked in.

"Hi, baby-"

"Don't." You snapped, uncrossing your arms to pound your fist into the mattress. "Don't you fucking dare come in here acting like everything's alright. You left me? You left me?" You sneered, crossing the carpet towards Eddie.

"Baby, I didn't-"

"I wake up and you're gone. Gone. No one knows where you are. Your keys are gone, your cars gone. I didn't get a note, not a word, not so much as a goodbye, I'll be back, a fuck you, nothing!" You jabbed his chest furiously, toe to toe with him. Eddie shrunk under your furious glare.

"I was fucking terrified, Eddie. I thought something had happened, or-or that you..." You shook your head, swallowing around the thought. You couldn't bring yourself to even say it. The harsh truth that you thought was your reality just hours before.

"You left me. You left us." Your hand moved to your stomach, cradling your torso. Eddie's eyes followed, swallowing thickly around your words, around his own guilt. "If you don't want this baby, fine. Just say that, Ed. I'll leave."

"No." Eddie snapped fiercely. You faltered, shocked at his reaction. "No, please don't... I-I fucked up, ok? I was scared and I shouldn't have done that, but I'm not leaving. I'm here now, and I'm here to stay." Eddie grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his own.

"Yeah, for now." You rolled your eyes, turning your head so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. "Until you decide you don't want to be here-"

"-Don't." Eddie shook his head, jaw flexing with emotion. "It wasn't you or-or the baby." His throat tightened around the words, head spinning at the realization. You were bringing a baby, a real baby into this world. His baby.

"It was me." Eddie croaked, eyes shining wetly, threatening to fall with tears. "I-I just wanna be a good dad. I want to keep you both safe, and-and... I was scared, baby. I was scared I'd be like my dad and-" His face crumpled into itself, a shuttering breath that had his body shaking with sobs.

You reached for him instinctually, pulling him into you with a soothing hand on his head, letting him curl into your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Eddie rasped. "I won't leave, I fucking swear. I'll keep you both safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He babbled into your skin.

"I know you won't." You hushed him, cradling his head.

"I won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." Eddie clung to you, hands balling into the material of your shirt.

"You better not." You gave him a watery smile, cradling his jaw when he pulled back. "I'll take Rick's suggestion up next time. Have your balls on a fucking chain if you do that to me again."

Eddie laughed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I won't." He said sincerely shaking his head.

His hands found your torso, squeezing gently over the place where the baby was. He swore he could feel the swell of your abdomen, a tiny change that had his heart soaring. You'd tell him it was too soon, but he knew it felt different. It was different. You two were going to be parents, bringing a baby- a life into this world.

Eddie worried constantly, endlessly if he'd be a good dad. A million "what ifs" and consuming dark thoughts that wrapped around his mind, leading him to do everything he could to prevent them from coming to fruition. He worried about the labor, about the risks after with new borns, if he'd be able to keep you both safe, if he'd fuck the kid's life up like his dad had his. He wondered if he'd worry forever, that he'd probably never stop, but he did know one thing. He'd be there for you and his baby. He wasn't going to run.

[ournosleep69-blog]

Joel Takes Your Virginity (yippee)

Haven’t done this in a while, so please bear with me!! I also need more ideas for what to write LOL. Thinking about doing some Arthur Morgan stories?? Mayhaps?? I also do angst & fluff YIPPEEE

Pairing: Joel Miller (hbo) x fem!reader (use of she/her, feminine terms)

Word count: 4.3k Warnings & Content: Smut, 18+. Age gap (reader is 19, Joel in his 40s), fem!reader, oral - female receiving, praise, P-in-V unprotected, loss of virginity, slight awkwardness, established relationship, creampie, dom!Joel, marking, sleepy aftercare, veryvery smutty, set in Jackson.

It’s already been a wonderful eleven months being with Joel. Sure, moving into his house before you two had even crossed a year together was a little bit risky, yet, it felt right; still feels right. Plus, you two had connected before you’d even gotten together, so it wasn’t as if it happened completely out of the blue.

Everything was amazing - Joel was the best boyfriend you could ask for; sweet, gentle, yet protective and ready to defend you if it came down to it (and it has, many times). He was thoughtful, and never wanted you to do things yourself, even if it was as simple as making coffee in the mornings. The age gap may earn some…questionable looks from a few randoms here in Jackson, but he never cared. Joel loved you loud, and he was damn proud of it.

On an intimacy level, however, you two hadn’t gone past the casual late-night makeout sessions, the hickeys here and there, the occasional groping. But it never went past any of that. It began to frustrate you, even if it was your doing. You stopped things before they went past that line of intimacy, but it was only because you were scared. What if you weren’t as good as the other girls he’s had? How many girls has he had, exactly? What if you can’t please him the first time-

“Thinkin’ hard over there?” Joel’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts as his large hand comes out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His words ground you back into reality, and suddenly, you’re back on the couch with your boyfriend, watching some cheesy action film on a small TV. “Starin’ off into space like that, you alright?” 

Your gaze flickers over to Joel, noticing his hand gently squeezing your thigh in a reassuring manner. He seems to be worried, his brows furrowed, the slight wrinkles on his forehead deepening.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly brush his worries aside. Your hand reaches out to grab his own, feeling the way his palm and fingers nearly dwarf yours in size. “Just thinking.”

“Thinkin’?” With a grunt, the Texan shifts closer to you, his free hand trailing down to your chin to tilt your head in his direction. God, the man was stunning. Even in his late forties, he looked so full of youth. His brown eyes, deep and intense, met yours, beckoning you to be honest.

A sense of uncertainty fills your brain. It’s best to be honest, but you feel odd talking about it - intimacy was never your strong suit, even if it’s only because you were so inexperienced. So, you inhale a deep breath, your eyes fluttering slightly as you prepare to express yourself. 

“I wanna…well,” it’d be nice to turn your head and dodge his eye contact because you can already feel your cheeks heating up, but he keeps you in place. “I just think maybe we, uh, we take things..” Fuck, this was hard.

“I want to have sex. With you. Uhm, right. Yeah.” Jesus Christ, you kick yourself mentally, a palm slapping over your face in embarrassment. That was so awkward you might as well have just jumped his bones instead.

 You can see a wave of surprise rush over Joel’s features. His eyes widen slightly, lips parting to say something, yet he remains silent, only the sounds of his near-silent breaths filling the room. The hand on your thigh tightens just a bit. 

He then clears his throat, “you sure, pumpkin? That’s a big step. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can go as slow as you w-” But you cut him off by leaning in just slightly. The air between you thickens with tension, and you can feel Joel’s body tensing with anticipation. 

“I’m ready,” it’s all Joel needed to grab your hand, leading you up from the couch and towards your shared bedroom upstairs.

  ☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was a quick mess of clothes being discarded as soon as you two passed the threshold leading into the bedroom. Joel’s arms are tight around your waist, your own clinging to his shirt while your lips fight for dominance; a fight Joel quickly wins every. Single. Time.

Hot tongues slide and tangle against each other while your feet step towards the bed. Joel’s strong arms, marred with scars and scratches from all of his arduous years of surviving, guide you to lay back on the bed. 

“Just lay back, sweetheart. I wanna make your first time somethin’ special, you hear me?” The older man murmurs whilst slowly crawling on top of you.

Your back sinks into the fluffy softness of the covers, eyes flitting up to meet Joel’s intense ones. His gaze is roving over your body, pupils widening at the sight of every inch; the swell of your breasts, your flared hips, those plush lips and beautiful eyes. He could spend countless hours just ranting about how amazing you are, how special you are to him. 

How much he loves you.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, breath warming the skin there whenever he talks. And the way his hand slides up to your stomach, tracing the contours, makes your insides clench. Though things were starting to get steamy, the nerves were starting to take over.

“Hey, hey. Darlin’, breathe,” You tried to keep it together as much as you could, but Joel could see the slight tremble in your body, the way you were unintentionally digging your nails into his shoulder. “Are you sure this is somethin’ you want?”

“Yes. It- It is. I know it…it doesn’t seem like it, but,” a shy laugh escapes your lips, and you loosen your grip. “But I want this. I’m serious, Joel.” 

At your words, the Texan nods firmly. His touch resumes on your stomach, fingertips trailing up and over your ribcage, feeling the ridges even through the skin. His touch is featherlight, calming even. And then his fingers brush against the bottom of your underwear, earning a gasp from your mouth.

“Someone’s eager..” He murmurs, shifting his hips nearly imperceptibly. But you could feel the hot bulge of his arousal pressed to the soft flesh of your inner thigh, the way it twitches through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“I could- could say the same about, uh, you,” It sounded a lot smoother in your head, but not so much when you stutter it out.

But he was right. The soft cotton panties that adorned your hips were damp in the crotch from your arousal, the slickness only growing with each touch, each loving caress from your older lover.

“Remember what I said, pumpkin. Breathe, in and out.” For someone so…intimidating, Joel can never help himself from babying you; especially in this moment of pure vulnerability for you, for your relationship.

Taking his advice, you suck in a deep breath, letting the oxygen sit in your lungs for a few seconds before you exhale just as slowly. The nerves are still there, but they’re calming down, and you can feel yourself enjoying the moment even more.

Joel can tell, too, because his touch becomes bolder. Leaning in, his lips descend upon your neck. He makes sure to carefully nip at the sensitive flesh behind your ear, earning a soft moan. But the acts of affection lower, and he starts to trail down the column of your throat with them, occasionally slipping the tip of his tongue out to taste you.

By the time he’s got you more opened up to the idea of this, you’re squirming under him, trying to press your hips up into his own. He chuckles, the movement making his beard scratch nicely against your jawline.

One of his hands begins to slip down, dipping below the elastic waistband of your underwear. He stops just short of actually making contact with your pussy, his fingers pulling back slightly. Joel leans his head back, only enough to look down at you. He can see the flush on your cheeks and it makes his dick throb. 

“Is this okay?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head, those weathered puppy eyes staring longingly into yours.

“Yeah..” You breathe. The anticipation combined with your arousal is sending tingles up your legs and into the apex of your thighs, amplifying every one of your intense feelings. Your pulse quickens, the steady thrum of your heart filling your ears.

Without hesitation, his fingers finally make contact with your most intimate area. Joel emits a soft groan, while you emit an even softer whimper. His touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your legs and lower stomach, even if he hasn’t touched a particularly sensitive area yet.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he whispers, voice hoarse and full of incredulousness. The older man continues his exploration of your cunt, index finger languidly sliding between your hot folds, feeling the way it glides so easily from your evident need. You’re too flustered to say anything, so you only look away, wanting to shrink away from his gaze. 

“Hey, look at me. Please.” 

You tilt your head back, too weak and in love to ignore his loving plea. A genuine, tender smile curls at the corners of his lips. “I wanna see every emotion on that pretty lil’ face, ‘kay?”

“Fuck-” You gasp again when his digits find your clit, beginning to rub tight circles over the sensitive bud. It throbs under his touch, your legs quivering just a bit while your entrance clenches around nothing, eager to be filled with something. Anything.

“S’alright, let it out.” Joel praises lovingly as he kisses your cheek, continuing his movements that have your hips rocking up and arching to chase that pleasurable feeling. 

With his thumb now replacing his fingers, Joel pays more attention to your entrance. But before he does anything, he suddenly lifts off of you. You whine at the loss of the pleasurable sensation, but he only gives you a soft ‘shh’, reassuring you that he’s nowhere near done working you up.

The older man finally settles between your thighs, his rough hands sliding up to your hips. His fingers curl around the waistband, pulling them off in one easy - or easy-looking - movement. The cool air brushing against your swollen folds makes you shudder, your toes curling on the sheets. It’d be surprising that you aren’t feeling exposed or uncomfortable, yet, you’re with Joel, and you trust him more than anyone.

“God, look at that,” A soft kiss is pressed to your mound, making you jump a little. “Every goddamn inch of you is perfect, sweetheart.” he admires.

It’s like you completely shut out every other feeling when Joel’s tongue comes out, mimicking the way his finger had slid between your folds just minutes ago. You can only focus on the wet, heady feeling of his tongue, of the way it brushes once more against your swollen clit.

Another mousy cry of need escapes you, yet your eyes are trained on Joel’s - you don’t want to disobey him. Watching him go down on you for the first time is so fucking erotic. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

Fuck. 

Joel’s ministrations become more intense. His tongue flicks and works around your needy bud, not daring to overstimulate you before you two have even begun. Those arms come to wraps around your thighs, keeping you in place as he begins to feast on you like a man once starved. 

“Holy shit,” Your hands lose themselves in the soft salt-and-pepper locks of Joel’s hair, tugging his face closer to your dripping cunt. This only makes him double down on his efforts, the obscene sounds of his tongue licking and lapping filling the room.

Joel stops for a moment, looking down. His hand pulls away from your thigh, bringing two fingers to his mouth. Then, he’s looking back into your heated stare, sucking them into his mouth, getting them slick enough to slip inside of you. 

Now, this part was a little intimidating. Sure, you’ve touched yourself many a time, yet you’ve never put something inside of you. It makes you nervous to think about, but then you stop to  think. He’s never hurt me before.

“Please be careful.” The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ you, kid.” 

The tip of only one digit breaches your small entrance, making you exhale a shaky sigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels unfamiliar, and your thighs threaten to lock around his head. Joel slides it in slowly, pupils blown wide at the feel of your velvety walls clinging to his finger, trying to pull him deeper. “I’d say you’re already up for a second. Carefully, ‘course.” 

Your left hand loosens the grip it had on his hair, coming down to hold the one still around your thigh for support. Joel wastes no time in intertwining your fingers together, offering three comforting squeezes that melt your heart. I love you.

It’s a little longer of a process for your body to relax enough to let him slip in a second digit. The two inside of you stretch you just a bit, and the sensation is…odd. It’s not painful though, not when Joel’s muttering words of praise and reassurance the entire time.

“I think…I think you can move now.” You decide. 

As if on cue, Joel’s fingers begin to slip in and out of your entrance, wanting to get you acquainted with the feeling. And once you do, he curls them up. They brush against your g-spot, feeling the spongy yet hard surface against the tips with each thrust.

Even the slightest touch as your back arched off the bed, a keening moan filling the room. Joel only smiles contentedly, lowering his head to begin suckling at your clit.

Your toes curl once again, and you cry out. “Oh my god, Joel-” Each flick of his tongue, each movement of his fingers has you grinding against his mouth, unable to hold back. The flush on your cheeks has bloomed down to your neck, the cutest sight to the older man who absolutely adores you. “That feels s- so fucking good-”

“Let it out. Be as loud as you need to, baby,” his southern drawl comes out husky with arousal, yet he pushes through. His desires can wait, he’s only worried about making sure you have the best first time. It only comes once, but he wants to make sure you do multiple times tonight.

The praise sets you off, the combination of being fingered and eaten out has you an absolute blissed-out mess. He hums against your cunt, sending vibrations through your entire body. Your hand tightens in his, your head thrown back.

Just another minute or so passes, and you feel the intense tug in your lower stomach. Close, already. Joel can tell as well, seeing the way your walls are fluttering around him as he finger-fucks you with care. His tongue keeps the same steady pace, not wanting to change it up and make you lose the building climax.

“Joel- Joel! Fuck, don’t stop, please!” 

And just like that, one more flick of Joel’s tongue, one more thrust of his digits, has you tumbling headfirst over the finish line. Your climax is intense, easily one of the most intense you’ve had in your short life. Thighs clenched tightly around his head, you cry out in ecstasy as your legs tremble and feel like jelly, walls contracting while your juices spill down to Joel’s palm.

And through it all, the older man’s mouth and hand keeps moving, prolonging your orgasm until you're a writhing, boneless heap on the bed beneath him. Your face glistens with that post-orgasmic glow, chest heaving with each gasp for air.

While you’re still reeling, Joel slowly removes his fingers. He presses kisses up along your body, only stopping when he reaches your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue - slightly tangy and salty, mixed with something uniquely you. It should gross you out, but it only serves to keep your arousal up, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You did so good, so fuckin’ good,” Joel mumbles between kisses. The kisses aren’t overly eager; no, they’re full of adoration and tenderness, and the desire to make you feel the best that you possibly can.

You already feel like a puddle of goo, but the way he’s complimenting you only makes you melt even more. But something snaps you from your thoughts - his length, once again, pressed to your thigh. It’s as hard as a fucking rock, and you know it has to hurt as this point. One glance down and you can see the wet patch from the pre-cum staining his boxers, and it makes you shudder.

“Keep going..” you murmur, voice weak and slightly husky from the climax. Joel only looks at you with a curious lift of his brow. But you only nod, even beginning to rub your thigh against his bulge.

“Are you sure, pumpkin? I mean- fuck.” The growl deep in his chest makes your pussy wetter, and you can see his hips twitch slightly, wanting to chase that friction. “Alright, alright.” He chuckles.

Pulling back so he’s on his knees, the Texan moves to tug his waistband down.The boxers slip down his muscular thighs with ease, revealing the neatly trimmed forest at the base of his shaft, and most importantly, the seven and a half inch length of his cock. It springs free, slapping against his stomach as he leans back, giving you the full view. It’s thick, veiny, and clearly in need of release. It twitches once again, the tip an angry pink.

You’ve felt it multiple times during your makeout sessions, and even seen it during showers together, but this was entirely different.

“This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?” You swallow thickly. The nerves rush back, making your stomach drop and clench with anticipation. All you can think is ‘how is that supposed to fit in that?’

“I won’t let it,” he’s quick to dispel your fears, once again. “I promise ya’.” 

You watch on in aroused disbelief as Joel spits into his calloused palm before he brings it down to wrap around his shaft. “You’ve got me hard as a damn rock, kid.” His head tilts back, strong jaw clenching under his beard as he starts to stroke it with lazy pumps of his fist. It must be only to lubricate it, because he’s back to hovering his body over yours. “Ain’t a surprise though, huh?”

With one hand moving to guide his length to your soaked pussy, the other moves back to slide into your own, holding your hand to support you through what’s going to be your first time having sex.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel’s soothing words fill you with ease. He kisses your forehead, pouring every ounce of his true love for you into the action. He’s not a man of many words, but you melt down that gruff exterior, and he loves you all the more for it. “So perfect. And all mine, ain’t that right?” It’s possessive, but he’s not mean about it. You nod, and he smiles. “Can you say it for me, pumpkin? Go on, I know ya’ can.”

Trying to gather up the words while Joel’s swiping his cockhead through your folds for lubrication is nearly impossible. Your hand tightens on his, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the task you’ve been given.

“I- I’m all yours, Joel.” You finally breathe, gasping when his tip breaches your entrance. It feels thicker than his two fingers, and there’s a slight burning sensation that comes with being stretched like that.

Joel grunts, one hand beside your head to keep himself up. His other simply squeezes yours back, grounding you to the situation. “I know, baby, I know. Deep breaths, breathe through it.” 

The encouragement is enough, and you start to breathe deeply as he begins to sink inch by inch inside of your tight, wet, velvety heat. You’ve never been stretched so fully - or at all for that matter - it makes you wince, yet clench your muscles around him.

“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” Joel grunts, the pleasure nearly overtaking him. It’s so fucking tight around his cock, he fights the urge to just start thrusting right then and there. But he’d never hurt you, especially not for some selfish need for pleasure. “Say it back, sweetheart, let me hear those words from your pretty ‘lil’ mouth.”

It clicks right then and there; he’s distracting you, trying to make you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you wide around his arousal. It’s so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. In fact, it does. Your eyes fill with unshed tears at the sentiment, and you cling tighter to him.

“I love you.” 

The older man finally buries himself to the hilt inside of your cunt, his breathing slightly ragged. He stills to let you work out the foreign feeling for a few moments, leaning down to kiss your cheeks, even kissing away the few tears that had escaped.

“Say it again, kid.” 

“F- Fuck- I love you-” 

“Atta girl.” Joel encourages warmly, and he begins to piston his hips in gentle, languid strokes. Each thrust has him groaning, mouth pressed against your collarbone, which he begins to mark up with hickeys. It’s a reminder of the trust you put into him, the trust he wouldn’t break for the world. “I love you more.”

Meanwhile, each thrust has you making your own coos of pleasure. The feel of his cock nestled inside of you, each roll of his hips that has his pelvis grinding against your oh-so-sensitive clit, is driving you insane with gratification. With unadulterated need. 

Your bodies fit and move together like pieces of a puzzle, your legs wrapped tight against his waist as he drives into you over and over. The pain and burn had begun to fade, opening up to extreme pleasure every time the slight curve of his cock pressed against your g-spot. 

Your noises, combined with the slapping of flesh, fills your ears, making it impossible to focus on anything else; not that you’d want to anyway. And the noises you were making were making Joel inch towards the edge, no matter how hard he tried to fight against it.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, my god, pumpkin,” Joel growls. Making sure you’re still holding onto his hand, his other one slips back down - making sure to caress your breasts adoringly on the way - to rub circles into your bud. You mewl, the dual stimulation serving to heighten your pleasure even more. Your walls clamp down on Joel’s shaft, making him let out a strangled moan. It was no secret, you were both so close.

“I want- ah, shit-” The Texan mutters, trying to find his bearings while his hips begin to rut faster, chasing the release he craves. “I want you to cum with me, kid. Let it- Let it wash over ya’. Deep breaths.”

Joel redoubles his efforts, wanting you to find that wave of ecstasy beside him. He can tell you're close, and with the way his balls draw up tight, he can tell he is too.

“Joel-” Your nails dig into his hand, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks with every step closer you take to the edge. “I- I’m gonna-”

“Shit, darlin’-” It’s not long before you both find that much-needed orgasm. Joel’s lips crash against yours, groaning gutturally into your mouth, his hips bucking. Your climax triggered his own, walls keeping him deep inside while his cock twitches and pulses, emptying ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside your womb until he’s spent and panting.

Your legs had locked tight around him, squeezing him while you rode out your own waves of pleasure. Your cries were muffled by his lips, by his tongue. It was somehow even more intense than the previous one, your juices flowing and dripping down his shaft.

Joel carefully collapses on top of you, his hands moving to gather your boneless form into his comforting arms. “There you go, sweetheart. You did so good. So good for me.” He whispers against your ear, turning your bodies to the side so you were snuggled against the hard planes of his chest instead of laying under him.

“Was it okay?” He asks, genuinely caring about your wellbeing whilst he peppers kisses all over your face. His softening cock slips out of you with a soft pop, a trail of your combined fluids leaking from your well-loved hole and onto the blankets below. 

“Okay?” You ask in a tired voice, your face pressed against his neck. “That was...that was fucking amazing.”

Joel chuckles, the deep rumble of it vibrating in his chest and filling your ear. “Good, kid. I’m glad.” There’s a sense of accomplishment in the way he holds himself in this very moment. He’s proud he’s satisfied you, turned your first time into something you’ll never forget. “Don’t worry about cleanin’ up just yet. Lemme hold ya’.” 

“Mhm..” You’re so out of it that you’re already falling asleep - and Joel’s kisses aren’t making it any easier to stay awake. The scent of him fills your nose, the comforting smell surrounding you in warmth and familiarity. “How…how was I?”

“The best I ever had. Ever.” His thick fingers start to trace invisible patterns around your back, his movements reverent - he was being genuine with his words, you could hear it in his voice. 

“Get some sleep, baby girl. I love you more than anything. And I mean that.” His breath nearly catches, a lump forming in his throat. The man quickly clears his throat, not wanting to get all sappy on you when you’re trying to sleep. Though, he does whisper one last thing before closing his own dark eyes, letting exhaustion wash over him as well.

“Anything, kid.”

[honeyedmiller]

Fate, After All | Joel Miller — Epilogue

warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, cursing, mentions of smut but not super explicitly detailed, tooth-rotting fluff, no-outbreak! Joel, no use of y/n. also, I’ve never personally given birth so I have no idea how the whole process works lol this has major inaccuracy so just go with it pls :’) this is very poorly written and not my best work at all but y’know, Joel with a baby is precious

word count: 1k+

series masterlist

-

“Babe, what about this one?” You hold up a pink floral onesie to your protruding belly, looking up at Joel. You were at Target with him shopping for some last minute things before your daughter’s arrival.

It’d been a little over two years since you and Joel got married, and you found out you were pregnant eight months ago. You’ll never forget the look on Joel’s face when you showed him the multiple pregnancy tests you’d taken. You’d been feeling unwell for a few weeks prior to taking the tests, blaming it on stress from work. But then you missed your period, and you had an inkling that you might be pregnant.

Sure enough, you were right. You didn’t know who was more excited about it, though—Joel or Sarah. You were plenty excited and so ready to be a mom of two, but Sarah bawled her eyes out when she found out she was going to be a big sister and Joel would only talk about it for days on end.

You remember when you told your parents too, calling them up telling them that you and Joel could finally repay them for the honeymoon they’d so sweetly gifted you. Your mom cried tears of joy, and your dad got a little misty-eyed.

And when you and Joel found out the baby was going to be a girl? You both lost it. Joel loved being a girl dad so much, and he knew you’d been such a wonderful mother figure to Sarah, that you’d be the best mom to your little girl.

“I love it, darlin’.” Joel takes the onesie carefully from you, admiring how tiny it was. He’d completely forgotten how small newborns are.

You and Joel both thought for sure you were going to get pregnant on your honeymoon, with the way you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other using every surface of your room possible to go at it. You had no idea your libido was so high. Neither did Joel.

Even now, with your hormones raging, you craved Joel so badly. He was terrified at first, not wanting to ‘hurt the baby’, but the nurses at the third ultrasound checkup told him it was completely okay—in fact, they encouraged it.

Joel was tender with you in bed (and in general) since you’ve been pregnant, and honestly, you thought it was so sweet. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger if he could help it, but you had to remind him that you had to do things for yourself, too. Though, you loved that he was so careful and gentle. He was before, but he’s a little bit moreso now.

Your focus shifted back to reality, Joel looking at you with a small smile.

“What?”

“You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” Joel asks as he steps to you, resting his hands on the sides of your tummy.

You huff a small laugh, shaking your head. “Sure don’t feel like it.”

“You’re glowing, sweetheart. You’re carryin’ our child and you look damn good doin’ it.” He leans down to kiss you gently.

“This baby has made you such a softie, Miller.” You tease, grasping the side of his face as he chuckles. The crow’s feet around his eyes showcase in fullness, displaying how truly happy he felt.

“What can I say? I love all three of my girls more than anything in the world.” He kisses your forehead, pulling back from you before picking up another pair of shoes that he shows you—big, soft, brown eyes on display for you.

-

A few weeks later, you’re sitting on the couch with Joel as you rest your eyes while he gave you a foot massage. You told him constantly that he didn’t need to do that, but he insisted on the sweet gesture. It was quiet in the house; it’d been that way since Sarah left for college. You and Joel were definitely lively people, but Sarah always kept the conversation going with her wittiness and smarts.

Recently, you’d been having Braxton Hicks, so pain would come and subside. You were due in only just a couple of days, so any time now your little one could choose her arrival. Your whole body was so sore and just the thought of even getting up to do something made you want to cry. You were extremely emotional even moreso now, and Joel was taking your moods graciously.

It wasn’t too late into the night, so when Joel’s phone rang, you knew it was Sarah. She’d do check-ins every couple of days to make sure you were okay, and just to say hi. She was planning on flying back to Texas the next day, so you were happy you got to see her soon.

“Hey babydoll.” Joel answered softly, probably thinking you were asleep by now.

“No, mom’s sleeping right now. Let her get some rest. I’ll call you immediately if anything happens or changes, okay?”

Your heart clenched in warmth at the fact that Sarah referred you to ‘mom’. She’d been doing that since you and Joel got back from your honeymoon, and you loved it every time. You truly don’t think you’ll get over it, probably ever. It meant a lot to you that she was comfortable with you and liked to call you that.

You shot your hand out to retrieve the phone from Joel, and he chuckled, handing it over.

“Hello?” You say, voice a little hoarse from not talking for awhile.

“Hey, mom! How are you?” Sarah’s cheerful voice rung through the other line, and you smiled softly.

“I’m hurting everywhere. Can’t wait to get your sister out.” You half-joke.

“I’m sorry you’re in pain. Tell dad to run you an epsom salt bath or something to relieve your pain.” The idea didn’t seem half bad, but the thought of getting up and moving seemed like hell.

“I think I’ve tortured your father enough the past nine months with mood swings and emotions.” You laugh, running your free hand over your hard belly. Joel shakes his head at you and cracked a smile, softly patting your shin.

“Tell him to suck it up. He’s not the one that has to push a whole human out of him.”

“I’m sure he’d love to hear that one.”

“I’ll tell him, don’t worry mom. Get some rest. I love you.”

You huff a laugh at her slight overprotectiveness. “I love you too baby girl, can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Have a safe flight, okay?”

“I will! Bye!” And the line went dead.

“I’d love to hear what?” Joel asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I’ll let Sarah tell you that one.” You grin cheekily, handing his phone back to him. You were feeling really tired, so you groaned as you moved your legs off of Joel and sat up slowly.

“I’m gonna take me and this baby to bed. We’re tired.” You looked at Joel, who nodded.

“Let me join you.”

And that’s how the rest of the night went. Joel helped you upstairs, made sure you were comfy in bed, and got behind you to spoon you the rest of the night.

It wasn’t until around two in the morning that you felt a really bad contraction. You’d never had one this strong before, and when they kept coming at least fifteen minutes apart, you woke Joel.

“Joel.” You whispered, taking his hand that rested on your stomach to squeeze it. He didn’t wake at the first attempt, but another contraction washed over you, this time much more painful.

“Fuck. Joel.” You said louder, and this time, he groggily hummed.

“You okay sweetheart?” He sleepily said, and you gave his hand a squeeze.

“No. My contractions hurt really bad.” You say, and he sits up behind you.

“Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“I think so.”

Joel gets out of bed swiftly, putting on some sweats and a t-shirt before helping you sit up. You try to focus on your breathing, but the pain is really starting to bother you. He helps you dress into some biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt of his, grabbing your hospital bag before he helps you slip on your slippers with a grip at the bottom.

He leads you down the stairs ever so carefully, grabbing the keys and his wallet from the front table by the door before heading outside with you. He locked up as fast as he could and got you into his truck, helping you buckle in. Joel had completely forgotten about the rush and adrenaline that comes with having a baby. It’d been so long since he’s experienced it, so he was trying to keep it together as best as possible for your sake.

You closed your eyes as you rested your head on the back of the headrest, one hand gripping the door handle inside and the other one onto the seat.

Joel starts the truck up, throwing it into reverse before taking off down the road. Luckily there was barely any cars on the road at this hour, so you wouldn’t get stuck in any traffic.

Joel flipped open his phone and speed dialed Tommy, who picked up after the third ring.

“Hey, brother. What’s up?”

“Hey Tommy. We’re headed to the hospital now. Her contractions are pretty bad and not super far apart.” Joel explains, trying to drive to the hospital with urgency but also not break any laws.

“Oh, oh shit. Okay. Do you need me to do anything?”

“Uh, just– just pick Sarah up from the airport later today so you both can come to the hospital at the same time. I’ll call you if I need anything else. I gotta go.” Joel’s rushed words almost made his brother chuckle.

“You got it, brother. And Joel? Don’t worry. She’s got this, and so do you. Be the best support system you can be to her, yeah?”

“Yeah. Got it. I’ll call you when I can.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead as you both neared the hospital, and Joel luckily found parking near the front. He hopped out and jogged to the other side, opening your door to help you out of the truck. He grabbed the hospital bag and slung an arm around your lower back and around to the side of your tummy so you could lean yourself into him if you needed to. He locked the truck, walking at your pace up to the front doors.

The receptionist, who looked bored out of her mind, looked up beyond the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

“Um, my wife– she’s– her contractions are strong and not far apart.” Joel explains as you try to not think about the excruciating pain you’re feeling.

“Oh, honey, let’s get you checked in real quick and we’ll get you a wheelchair.” The receptionist asked Joel the few questions, because in all honesty, your mind was foggy and unfocused. You just wanted to lay down in a bed with some medicine that’ll make you feel better.

A nurse brought a wheelchair and took you up to the labor and delivery unit of the hospital, checking you into your room.

After you changed into the hospital gown, the nurses took some tests and checked how much you were dilated. You were too tired to even pay attention to what was going on around you, but one nurse tapped your shin softly.

“Hey mom, how’re you holdin’ up?” Her Southern drawl was strong, but she sounded sweet.

“‘M okay. In a bit of pain.” You mumbled, trying your best to look at her clearly.

“Well I have good news. You’re about five centimeters dilated, so you can get an epidural if you want one.”

“Please. This pain is nearly unbearable.” You chuckle nervously, and Joel grips your hand. You look up and him and smile as he leans down to give you a soft kiss.

“You’re doing amazing, mama.” He says, and you nearly melt into the bed. He was so damn sweet to you, even in the most challenging of situations.

“Alright, we’ll schedule you for one asap and get an anesthesiologist in here to give you one. Sound good?” She looks down at you, and you nod.

“Thank you.” You say before she exits the room, and it’s just you and Joel. Joel pulls up a chair beside the bed, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it gently.

“Gotta call Sarah and my parents.” You murmur, eyes closing in exhaustion.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I will right now.” Joel gave your hand a squeeze before you completely knocked out.

-

A few hours later, you woke up to see Sarah and your mom in the room. You’d been completely knocked out this entire time, except for when they gave you the epidural. Your surprise was evident to see them, and you smiled tiredly.

“You’re here.” You say, voice gravelly.

“Hey mom!” Sarah whispers, bending down to give you a hug and a kiss on the head.

“Hey kiddo. Where’s dad?”

“Went to get a cup of coffee with uncle Tommy in the cafeteria downstairs.” She smiles, and you nod. You look to your mom who had tears in her eyes, and you suddenly began to worry.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Your voice is a bit panicked, and your heart rate on the monitor noticeably picked up.

“Oh nothing baby! Relax, relax,” She brushes your hair away from your face, cupping your cheek with her hand. “I’m just so happy for you. I’m happy you’re getting some rest.” She grins at you, and you nod.

“The epidural really knocked me out.” You chuckle, feeling a strong pressure in your pelvic area. You wince, shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh baby, that’s a contraction. Nurse said you’re about seven centimeters now.” She said, and your eyes widen. Before you could respond, there was a soft knock at the door as Joel and Tommy appeared.

“Hey sweetheart. How you feelin’?” Joel asks as he sets his cup of coffee down, kissing your forehead.

“Tired, but fine.” You weakly smile, and Tommy bends to give you a hug.

“You got this sis. Squeeze Joel’s hand as haaard as ya need to.” He winks at you, and you laugh.

“Well he is the one who got me like this after all.” You quirk an eyebrow, and Joel holds his hands up in defense.

“Hey hey hey, it takes two to tango darlin’.” He says.

“That it does.” Exhaustion was overwhelming you, and your eyes were starting to drift close without you even noticing.

“Let’s let her and Joel have some privacy. Let her get some rest.” Your mom suggested, leaving Sarah and Tommy to follow out of the room after her.

“Come cuddle with me.” You weakly reach out to Joel, and he huffs a laugh.

“Pretty sure ‘m not supposed to get on the bed with you, darlin’.”

“Who cares. I want my husband to hold me.” You pout, and he softly chuckles. You hear him take off his boots, carefully climbing into the small hospital bed with you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as you nuzzle yourself into his chest, his scent and warmth surrounding you. You were out like a light again in no time.

It didn’t even feel like five minutes later to you when you’d been woken up by the nurse, but apparently it’d been a couple more hours.

“Hey hon. You’re almost fully dilated. We’re gonna need to prep you.” The nurse spoke softly, and you looked at Joel who was sitting in the chair next to your bed. His head rested on the side of the bed as he held your hand in his. You smiled softly at the sight before regretfully shaking him awake.

“Babe. Wake up.” You coo softly, and he opens his eyes. He looks at you wearily, trying to wake up fast.

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Yeah. Nurse says I’m almost fully dilated so they have to prep me now.” You give his hand a squeeze, and he nods.

“You’ve got this, baby. I’m going to be right by your side through it all.”

And he was right. He was.

Once you were fully dilated, they had you starting to push, and god you’ve never felt a more soul crushing pain in your life. You were trying to steady your breathing, but it was getting harder for you to focus. Pain overtook your whole being and you started to sob.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly.

“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good. So good. She’ll be here in no time.” Joel encouraged, clasping your hand as he kissed your temple repeatedly. He kept whispering sweet encouragements into your ear, being the supporting husband you knew he’d be. You just couldn’t fathom the pain you were going through.

“I can see the head, mama! Just a couple of more big pushes and she’ll be out.” The nurse was trying to talk you through it.

It’s like the next few pushes you completely blacked out—all you remember is the sound of your silent screams, a ‘there she is! I see her!’ from the nurse, and the sweet cry of your baby girl.

“She’s here, mama. You did it! Congratulations!” The nurse set her onto your bare skin, and you sobbed. You looked down at her, then up at Joel, who’d also happened to be crying. He gave you a kiss and rubbed the back of your head as he looked back down at his newest daughter.

The nurses took her to get her cleaned and weigh her before swaddling her and giving her back to you.

“She’s perfect.” You cry, knuckle running over her cheek as gently as possible.

“She is. You did it, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. She’s here.” Joel cried, and you leaned in to him as he looked down at the both of you.

“So what’s her name?” The nurse asks, smiling at the three of you.

“Sophia Evelyn Miller.” Joel says, his chest swelling with pride. You gently handed him his tiny daughter, as she cooed softly in his strong arms. She was safe and sound, a silent promise Joel made to all three of you that he would love and protect his girls until the end of time.

You’d given Joel everything he ever wanted—a loving wife, a mother figure to his first daughter, a bigger family, and a house he could call a home with you and his girls in it. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but his heart was so full with love and pride. So much love for his three girls, and pride to call you his wife and Sarah and Sophia his daughters.

This was really the fate that the universe brought upon you two��

One you both will always cherish forever.

a/n: ahhh it’s finally done :’) sorry this epilogue wasn’t really all that great, I just wanted to give Joel the endgame with his new daughter and wife lol

hope u guys enjoyed this mini series <3 love u all forever. muah

[thelovelylolly]

Hi I saw your v-day prompt list and I was wondering if I could get a billy hargrove x reader with number 27."will you just hold me please" I would really love it<3

One Last Goodbye

Summary: When Vecna plays with your mind, you get to see Billy one last time Warnings: kinda hurt/comfort??? like reader gets closure with billy, also reader is described to be shorter than him (also also not proofread lol) Word Count: 670 Notes: listen, i know i said i was just gonna write fluffy stuff, but cmonnnnnn i gotta throw some angst in there

You couldn't really tell where you were exactly, the blue fog obscuring anything at least seven feet in front of you. All you knew was Vecna was messing with you and pulled you into your mind. You didn't know why he was chose you, but now you were on a street, surrounded by fog.

You tried to keep yourself calm as you looked around, trying to find a way out. You turned in a circle, hoping to see through the fog. When you faced forward again, you saw a silhouette in the fog, walking closer and closer.

"W-who's there?" You called into the fog.

The silhouette got closer and closer before the fog parted in front of you. You gasped, cupping your hand over your mouth in shock as you stumbled back a few steps.

Billy.

"Oh my god," you uttered softly, your shock becoming confusion. "How...?"

"I wish I knew, sweetheart," he answered, stepping closer. Once he was right in front of you, gently pulling your hand away from your mouth and taking your hands in his, you noticed his eyes were glossed over with tears. "I'm so happy to see you again."

"This...this isn't real. Vecna's making me see you, you're not real," you quickly blurted as tears starting to well in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat. "You can't be real."

"Oh, baby," he cooed, pulling you into a tight hug. He let you cry into his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. He felt your trembling arms immediately wrap around him tightly, like you were afraid to let him go because he'd disappear.

Maybe he would. He didn't even know where he was before suddenly being on a road surrounded with fog. He just started to walk forward with hopes to find something, and he did.

He found you. The last time he saw you, you were crying while you held him in your arms. He didn't really feel his death, he was too focused on you. He felt like he slipped into a different reality, and maybe he did. He didn't know, but he didn't care enough to figure it out because you weren't with him anymore.

Yet, here you were, crying into his chest.

Billy pressed a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away just enough to meet your gaze. He brought his hands to your facing, cupping your cheeks as he thumbs wiped away the stray tears.

"How are you here? Did you...are you dead?" He asked, the sudden realization that you could've died hitting him and making him panic.

"I-I don't know. I don't think I'm dead," you reassured him, "but where are we?"

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Then, faintly, you heard music playing. It sounded far away at first, then it sounded like it was getting closer and closer. It was your favorite song, your friends were trying to save you.

"I don't have much time, Billy. I want you to know that I love you and I'm sorry that I didn't save you-"

"Hey, don't apologize, okay? No one knew what was going to happen. I'm lucky I got to be with you when I did because I love you. And I'm lucky to see you again, even if it isn't for long."

The music was getting louder by the second.

"Will you just hold me please?" You asked softly. "I don't want to let you go again."

Billy didn't answer. He did as you asked, wrapping his arms around you as tight as he could without hurting you. He felt a tear slip down his cheek, knowing this was going to be your last moments together. He didn't want to let you go, but he knew deep down that if you stayed, it would do more damage than good. He quickly came to terms that this was your last goodbye.

"I love you, Billy," you said weakly, your voice shaking with emotion.

"I love you, too, sweetheart. Goodbye."

[poppy-metal]

haunted by beyonce is so creep au. i was about it because i love my little freaks and listening to that song. would making a spotify playlist for it be too far lol? little sneak peek...

he spends the rest of his time at college a near recluse. re-reading your old letters. he crumbles them in his hand and feels a need to punch or stab at something but every time he finds himself smoothing them out gently. he tries to channel his anger into other ways. tries not to let this fester in him and make him even worse but it's too late for him to decide. how is he meant to move on when he can't hear a bird chirp without all his thoughts turning to you? 

-☕

AURRRRRRRR

he graduates stanford. its all hazy. he went kind of comatose after your last letter. he sat in his room for days just..... staring at the ceiling. numb. he gets precariously close to failing all of his classes and only slightly comes out of it when he's confronted by patrick and his grandmother calls him worrying about him. he manages to pull himself enough together to push through his last semester. worst of all - he stops playing tennis for awhile. anything that used to make him happy just pisses him off. he moves states with patrick when he offers because the thought of being alone is too daunting. he doesn't trust himself.

patrick and art buy an apartment together - patrick goes pro - art...... stays home. the reality of your absence hits him months later and he comes out of his numb state of shock and its bad. he's self destructive and meaner and he cries more often than he ever used to. he burns half your letters - almost burns the apartment down doing it - but stops halfway through and saves the last remaining ones. he rereads them religiously. he wonders how all of it could be fake. he wonders why he didn't just throw them away when they first started coming. why did he have to engage? he thinks the worst of himself - what kind of pathetic deranged freak he must be to have found these words appealing? to be touched? to fall for someone he doesn't even know? patrick worries about him. they fight alot. patrick isn't used to this kind of art. this miserable, sad, snappish art. he tries to get him back into tennis - but everytime art holds a racket he feels sick. he remembers how much you wrote about it - his tennis. how beautiful you thought he was when he played. how you'd always been watching him. he thinks about you seeing him on TV and not even recognizing him because of how little he meant to you.

he tells patrick he's taking a hiatus from tennis thats all. the media goes crazy about it. but he deactivates all of his accounts.

its been a few years now and people are getting antsy. they want art donaldson back. patrick is niggling him again. he says art looks alot better than he did before. that it'd be good for him. art doesn't know what he wants. being famous again doesn't feel as thrilling as it used to. he wants to be normal again, though. he's gotten good at pretending, at least. he has a job at his local bookstore and he can smile at people and he's having sex and he goes out with patrick sometimes. there's no reason he shouldn't be back out there.

but he's not okay. he's a viper wrapped in the body of a man. he's filled with poison and he wants to inject it into the world around him every day. he still writes to you - he texts your old number - senseless things. the rambles of a mad man. he wants you to turn on the TV and see him step out onto a court as art donaldson again and he wants you to feel him through the screen. he wants you to be watching when he wins and he wants you watching when an interviewer asks him what its like to be back so he can look at the camera and pretend its your eyes he's meeting through the screen when he says, "I've never felt more motivated."

"and what's motivating you, mr. donaldson?"

a smile. "reconnecting with an old friend."

the good thing about being back into tennis, art has found - is the money. money he can use to find you. money he already plans on using to find you.

[luveline]

If you ever start requests up again (if you don't thats fine lol), I'd wonder how Miguel would be with an autistic (or any neurodivergent disability) reader? Thanks regardless for the great reads you've given!

hi!! i don't have autism so please forgive any inauthenticity, but i have a frame of reference in someone close to me so I hope this is somewhat like you wanted! if you ever want to request with specific traits, please do! ty for requesting

"This is the worst thing that could've happened," Miguel says, furious. 

You, sitting on the table by his workbench, glance away from your book reluctantly. Your lips part, confusion a line between your brows as you ask, "Are you making a joke?" 

"It's hyperbole. I'm exaggerating." 

"I thought so, but it's hard to tell. You said it very convincingly." 

"Sorry," he says, glaring down at his broken doohickey. Useless plastic, useless screwdriver useless Miguel. 

"Exaggerating… you're upset," you say. 

Miguel is both surprised and not. He doesn't always expect you to be able to read him. Your autism complicates how you recognise emotion, but you're caring, and now you've been told an effect (exaggeration) you can identify the cause (Miguel's broken device). 

"I'm frustrated," he tells you, leaning back in his chair. "I really thought this one would work." 

"I think the wrong thing all of the time," you say, sympathy creeping into your tone. Some might think you're unemotional, and the reality might be true for others, even yourself when you're with unfamiliar people, but it's not true in this instance. "Maybe I can help." 

Miguel scoots back his chair and you stand between his thighs, eyes roving over the fragments of his device, taking everything in. You love engineering —your involvement with the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse had been, in your own words, the best thing that ever happened to you, as it dropped you head first into new technology, better technology than you ever saw on your Earth. You spend longer than you should bending over books about science undiscovered on your planet, your life a pressing of hydraulics, centrifuges, holographic projection, and magbelt machinery that Miguel loves to play. 

"It's badly soldered," you say. 

He winces. No punches held. "I used to be better." 

"You're bad now." 

You asked him a while back to let you know if you ever stepped on his toes, so to speak. Usually Miguel would leap to agitated disagreement, but you asked, and he likes you. He explains.

"Ah, that hurts my feelings," he says, without heat. "I know objectively that you're right, but people appreciate fluffing when it comes to observational critique." Miguel scoots his chair back as you turn to face him. "It's okay. I'm not mad." 

"You're patient," you say, nodding. "Sorry. Fluffing… how would you say it?" 

"I'd say, your soldering is a little iffy." 

"It's a lot iffy." 

"That's the fluffing. A white lie. No one's feelings get hurt and the problem is still identified." 

You nod more. "I'm a little better at soldering. I can fix it for you." 

"Nice," he says. 

He stands up and squeezes your shoulder gently. Your face dips to his hand and holds it there, cheek pressed to his knuckles, a smile turning the corners of your mouth up. Miguel isn't expecting it, but he doesn't rush you. 

"Can we spend time together after we fix it?" you ask.

"If we fix it." 

"I can fix it," you say happily, straightening your head and freeing his hand. "I'm much better at soldering than you." 

Miguel's a prideful person by instinct. He walks to the side of the workshop where he keeps the soldering iron and associated paraphernalia, throwing a quip over his shoulder, "You think you're better."

"I know I'm better," you say, sitting in his chair. "Sorry. I know a little that I'm better." 

He should say, Hey, we'll work on it, but Miguel doesn't want to. He likes you just as you are, accidental insults and all. 

[lowkeychenle]

Late Nights [LMH]

Description: Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep.

Genre: Fluff/Smut (Shower sex for the win, but anyway, unedited and maybe not my best work but I just wrote this today in the last hour haha sorry in advance)

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (don't do this LOL)

Word Count: 1,801

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Juliet's Masterlist

It’s well past midnight by the time the door to your apartment opens. After several months of making your relationship official, you’re used to this—to Mark coming to see you late at night because that’s when he finally gets out of practice.

He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you do anyway.

The sight of his silhouette in your peripheral vision has you turning in his direction. He runs his fingers through his freshly-dyed blond hair, a sigh escaping his lips as he walks toward you. Sitting on the edge of your bed, he gives you the slightest hint of a smile, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re awake.”

“You say that like sleeping without you is easy.” You reach over and intertwine your fingers. “How was practice?”

“It was alright,” he says. “Something was wrong with me today, I think. I couldn’t get any of the moves down.”

“How dare you have an off day, Mark Lee?” You narrow your eyes playfully at him, and he chuckles.

“Donghyuck is gonna kick my ass if I keep ditching him for you.” Mark rubs his thumb along your palm. “You’re much more fun than he is.”

“I think you could take him.” You sit up, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“I was gonna hop in the shower real quick. Care to join me?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, and immediately, you know you’re putty in his hands. You nod, allowing him to pull you toward the bathroom. He flicks the light on, shrouding you both in fluorescent lighting.

Flinching at the sudden change, he lets out a tiny groan. You take a moment to appreciate him, the way his messy hair still somehow looks effortless on the top of his head, the too-large T-shirt nearly swallowing him whole. Two braids rest on either side of his face. They must’ve filmed something today if they styled him like this. You love it, though. It suits him well.

You help him take them out, starting the water. After months, he has yet to figure out how to work your shower. You’re sure, in reality, that he just wants you to do it for him. He’d never admit it out loud.

As soon as the shower’s ready, his hands are already sliding beneath your shirt. He moves sluggishly, as if his practice took a lot out of him today. Instead of teasing him about it, you allow him to remove your clothes before working on his own. Although, you’re not entirely sure getting clean is his goal when you two step beneath the steaming stream of water. Your back is pressed against chilled tile before you have the chance to register the drastic change in temperature.

He grips your waist, dropping his head on your shoulder. Pressing a kiss there, he takes a deep breath. You rest your head back on the wall, allowing him to do whatever it is he wants. It’s late, and you’re exhausted, but, unfortunately, this is really the only alone time you and Mark are allowed together.

In the morning, he’ll be gone by eight.

“Are you tired?” he whispers, fingertips tracing along the curve of your ass.

You grasp his hair, gently tugging him back so you can look into his eyes. Shaking your head, you lean forward and brace yourself for the electricity that comes with his touch. “Never too tired for you.”

Just as you suspect, his lips send a shiver down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him beginning to harden against your stomach. Without another thought, you deepen the kiss, whimpering when his tongue enters your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me one day, you know that?” he mutters, gathering your hands in his and pinning them above your head. “I missed you today.”

“Only today?” you tease him.

“Every second of every day,” he responds, touch dancing from your hip and dipping dangerously close to where you need him.

You’re already squirming, pushing yourself toward him in a feeble attempt to spur him forward. He slides one finger along your entrance.

“You’re always so ready for me.” His voice rumbles through your skin, sending another bout of warmth between your legs.

Knowing he’s about to give in, you close your eyes, rest your head against the tile, and widen your stance to allow him better access. Two of his fingers slide in with ease, and the sound that leaves your mouth echoes off the walls.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You look so beautiful like this.”

As much as you’re dying to touch him, his grip on your wrists is firm. You don’t want to test him tonight, not when he’s looking at you like you’re everything he’s ever wished for. He keeps a steady pace, eyes analyzing your face.

“I wish I could be inside you like this all the time.” He sets his forehead against yours, the deep brown of his eyes whirling with all the emotions he doesn’t get to show to you during the day.

“Need more,” you say, rolling your hips to aid his pace.

“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” he asks, thumb brushing your clit.

Your body jolts in response, craving him in every way possible.

“You don’t want to finish like this first?”

You shake your head. “Mark.”

He hums in response, gently removing his fingers from you. His gaze catches yours as he slides them between his lips instead, a low moan emanating as he sucks your arousal from them.

“God, you taste good.”

You don’t have to say another word. He releases your wrists and grips your waist instead, hoisting you upward. You latch your legs around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair. He slams his lips against yours, your mouths melding together in a harmony you’ve only ever been able to accomplish with him.

The kiss is messy, teeth clashing despite somewhat slower movements. He reaches down to grab his cock, sliding it along your entrance. A whine escapes you, but he swallows it with ease. Steam wafts around the two of you, the water mostly hitting Mark’s back. If he wasn’t pressed so closely to you, you’d be shivering.

“Are you sure?” He dips down to kiss your neck, tongue leaving a trail of saliva along your thundering pulse.

“Positive.”

He shifts a bit before you feel his tip. Your breath catches in your throat as he slowly slides in, stretching you to your limit just like he did every other time. Arching your back, you dig your nails into his shoulders. 

Your name tumbles from his lips, and his eyes roll back before he clenches them shut. Without wasting a moment, he starts moving, breathing ragged as he takes you slowly. His eyebrows furrow. You can’t help the moans leaving you every time he sheathes himself inside completely.

Both of you are usually partial to dirty talking, but today, he seems to just want to relish in the feeling and sounds he pulls from you.

He hits a spot inside of you that has you calling out louder and holding on tighter than before. Tonight, he grunts with each thrust, occasionally allowing your name to mingle with the steam.

His cock feels heavenly inside of you, rubbing and sliding against your walls as if he were made just for you. The slow pace drives you crazy, near making you beg for me. Like he can read your mind, his hand trails between the two of you and rubs circles on your clit.

The bubble in the pit of your stomach starts to tighten, and you try to stop yourself from getting lost in the pleasure. Everything about his movements is precise. He does it the way he knows you like it, having learned your body and what gets you off since you began dating.

The second you catch the dark, lustful look in his eyes, the bubble bursts. You swear your vision blurs as your hips slam toward his. Unintentionally, you scratch down his biceps to ground yourself, leaving angry red marks in your wake.

His thrusts pick up as he chases his high. Once his breathing picks up, you know he’s only moments away from following your lead. You kiss him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and tugging it.

His voice cracks mid-whine as he presses himself as deep as he can get. He curses, spilling inside you. You remain in this position for a moment, both of you breathing heavily as he showers your face and shoulders with kisses.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans.

“Says you.” You let out a breathless laugh, tracing the marks on his arms. “I guess it’ll be long sleeves for you this week.”

“Worth it.” He grins and pulls out of you. Setting you back on your feet, he pulls you underneath the stream of water. “I guess we should actually shower now, huh?”

The rest of it is spent with you helping him wash, and you even spend a little bit of time massaging his shoulders. He stares at you lovingly, head tilted with a slight smile playing on his lips.

“You’re everything, you know that?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I do. You didn’t have to stay up and wait for me. Hell, you didn’t even have to let me come over tonight. My schedule sucks, and I’m sorry about that, but I can’t help but love the way you’re okay with adapting to it.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “No matter what you think, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You allow his words to sink in. They said a bout of heat to your cheeks, surely turning you red. He intertwines your fingers together.

“I’m keeping you up,” Mark murmurs. “Let’s get out and go to bed.”

He kisses you one last time before turning the water off and grabbing a towel for you. As soon as you’re dry, neither of you bother to put clothes on. He climbs into your bed with you. Like it’s a reflex, he pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head.

Sure, you didn’t have to let him come over and you definitely didn’t have to stay up waiting for him, but these moments with him are your favorite. They’re the ones you will always remember, even when his schedule starts to slow down and he’s free to spend more of his time with you.

He falls asleep with your head on his chest, his heart thumping steadily and soft snores escaping him. You smile, realizing you’d never trade these late nights for anything.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Can I request a Remy fic where he Comforts his kid who needs to have surgery soon and can't play the sports they like for a while cus of it? Yes this is daddy issues anon. You fill my heart with joy and whimsy. <3

And main reason I rq this is cus I have a surgery coming up and won't be able to play soccer so I'm coping how I can lol- love your writing!

Courage in the Cards

Remy LeBeau sat on the edge of his child’s bed, watching as they stared at the wall, trying to hide the worry that had been building over the past few days. Surgery was scheduled for next week, and the reality of it weighed heavily in the air.

"You okay, mon petit?" Remy asked softly, his signature Cajun accent gently laced with concern.

His kid—normally full of energy, laughter, and excitement—gave a small shrug, barely glancing his way. It wasn’t like them to be this quiet, and it broke Remy’s heart to see their usual spark dimmed.

"I know you’re scared," he continued, leaning in a little closer, "but it’s gonna be okay, chérie. I promise."

They turned to him, their eyes betraying the fear they were trying so hard to hide. "What if it hurts? And what if… what if I can’t play soccer anymore?"

Remy felt a pang in his chest. He understood how much soccer meant to them—it was their favorite sport, something they looked forward to every day. The thought of not being able to play, even for a while, was clearly weighing on their mind.

"You gonna play soccer again, I promise you dat," Remy said firmly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from their forehead. "Might take a little time to heal up, but dat’s all. You’re strong, stronger den you know. Dis surgery—it’s just a bump in de road."

They bit their lip, their small hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "But what if I’m not good anymore after? What if I can’t keep up?"

Remy smiled softly, leaning in closer, so their foreheads almost touched. "Now, listen here," he said, his voice low and warm. "LeBeaus? We don’t give up dat easy. You gonna heal up, and when you get back on dat field, you’ll be better den ever. It’s okay to be scared, but dat don’t mean you won’t come out stronger."

They stayed quiet for a moment, taking in his words, but he could still see the fear in their eyes.

"You know somethin’?" Remy said, pulling out a deck of cards from his jacket, shuffling them absentmindedly. "Sometimes, when I get scared—an’ yeah, even your ol’ man gets scared—I think about my cards."

He held the deck out, flipping through them. "Every hand we’re dealt, it’s got its challenges. But you play it smart, you play it with heart, an’ you’ll always come out ahead."

They watched him for a moment before speaking, their voice small. "So, I just have to play my hand?"

Remy smiled and nodded, placing the deck in their hands. "Exactly. You got de strength to handle dis, no doubt about it. And you ain’t alone. I’m gonna be right there, every step of de way."

His kid looked down at the cards in their hands, slowly shuffling through them as Remy had taught them. After a while, they looked up at him with a bit more resolve in their eyes.

"Okay," they said, though their voice was still soft. "But… will you stay with me? Before the surgery?"

Remy wrapped an arm around them and pulled them close. "You ain’t gettin’ rid of me dat easy," he chuckled. "I’ll be right by your side, mon petit. Always."

As they leaned into him, Remy felt a bit of the tension leave their small body. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but they had each other—and no matter what cards life dealt, they’d face them together.