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thegnomelord · 23 days

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Simon Ghost Riley

CW: SFW, GN reader

You're a tactile thing.

You're not satisfied with the occasional thickly veiled words of endearment Simon throws your way like scraps off his plate. You shouldn't be expected to be satisfied by the rare phantom brush of his gloved fingers against yours or his hand on your nape when you two are hidden in the far back corner of the changing room. You shouldn't be expected to have a partner who can never commit to the smallest crumb of tenderness (bloody fool), ready to shrug off your hand and brush past you at the barest creak outside the door, dozens of well rehearsed denials worming through his tongue; there's nothing between you two at all.

You're a tactile thing. Or perhaps you just lack that 'in' before the 'human' part of you.

He knows you want more — deserve more. Simon sees how your eyes wander to the passing couples while you two only pretend to be one for a mission, your fingers twitching with the restrained urge to replicate them. And when you do touch him to keep up the act, you don't have to force yourself to do it. Whether it is holding his hand like the couple passing you, or kissing him as tenderly as the two girls kiss on the corner, everything comes so naturally to you that it leaves him torn. One part wants to reach out, grasp you like the lifeline that you are. The other wants to pull away even more so you wizen up and leave him for someone better.

But you never do.

He can see it every time he looks into your eyes, every time you see him off to another mission and every time you greet him with a steady shoulder to hold his exhausted body up — the care. The affection. The need to hold. To kiss. To spell out with your fingers across his skin what otherwise falls on deaf ears.

You could do it so easily too; he has so many scars, he's sure your clever mind could find meaningful shapes in the static of pain etched into his skin. Shit, the half dead nerves in his skin tingle just from the fantasy of your tough, wondering if your fingertips would trace the upside down 'L' curving under his peck, the 'O' left by the meat hook, the shallow 'V' at the corner of his lip where the Glasgow smile starts, the scratchy 'E's all across his back made up of flogging scars.

You're a tactile thing. And you make Simon crave to be one too.

You make him earn for more than a quick fuck — that's the closest you two ever get to a real connection, bloody fervent and raw just like him. Simon wishes he could call it something else, but crowning that desperate clawing for release as 'making love' leaves him feeling sick to his stomach. There's no love in the act — not from him — just a frantic rutting of hips and a bruising hold, eyes shut and biting into the meat of your shoulder to chase away any softness you might try to bring in.

Ironic when it's his tongue that burns with three painfully simple words: I love you.

The inevitable release feels like like a punishment, like he's back in that dingy cell, orgasm torn out of him like Prometheus's liver. It makes his teeth dig deeper until warm blood fills his mouth and fizzles out the words he wants to say. He disentangles from you the moment he can feel his limbs again, putting only a few inches of space between you two but the empty area created feels as deep and wide as a canyon.

He lays there next to you, mind a low buzz of static. His own flesh doesn't know what it wants. One part wishes to pull you close and hold you tight until he grows moss, to remember what it's like to be held without it coming with dozens of strings attached. The other desperately claws to get away before yours becomes the next jaw he has to use to bash his way out of yet another coffin.

He can't bring himself to do either.

He lays like a statue next to you. A minute passes. Then two.

He can feel your eyes on his chest, your gaze burns his skin as you watch the slow rise and fall. The clock on the wall ticks along the many moments he takes to decide what to do, what action will pull him out of stagnation while your heat is right there next to him. He wonders, briefly, if this was Adam's true temptation, the fruit just a formality at best.

It's by the five minute mark that he thinks he's tricked you into thinking he's asleep, his theory confirmed when your fingers experimentally brush his bicep. You always become a little more touchy when you think he's asleep, when he doesn't have to prove to bygone ghosts that he's emotionless.

He's practiced this many times before with spare pillows and your clothes arranged in his best facsimile of you, your lingering smell on the fabric keeping the thoughts of 'this is stupid' and 'you're pathetic' from becoming too loud. But suddenly trying to put it into action has his pulse skyrocketing.

He breathes in deep like he's tired to try and calm his nerves. You retract your fingers like his skin is iron hot, afraid of 'waking' him, and he mourns the loss. He mumbles some slurred words he hopes you'll take as sleep talking, muscles tensing before he rolls over like a sleeping bear. He tries to make it as believable as he can, but his main priority is draping as much of himself over you as possible .

His first attempt is better than expected. Honestly it's perfect. His front almost perfectly aligned with yours, skin to skin so there's nothing to hide yet his masked head still ends up the crook of your shoulder. You two are chest to chest. He remembers why he doesn't do this when you both can feel his heart beating far too clearly.

He prays you can't tell how his heart beats for you and you alone.

You stay stock still under him, waiting, waiting, waiting, and when he shows no sign's of 'waking up' you relax under him. Your chest shakes with a shaky breath, you never believed you'd get this far, and ever so slowly your fingers curl around his hand that had so perfectly ended up over yours. He struggles not to smile when you squeeze his hand, just a little pressure in an attempt to see how far you can push without cutting this dream short.

The sweat on your body feels cool against his skin and it leaves him shivering. It gets you to carefully pull the sheets up over you two before slowly wrapping your arm around his firm waist, fingers experimentally trailing up and down the length of his spine. It's so hard to keep his breathing normal when you press your thumb into a tangled knot of muscle near his pelvis, the one that had been bothering him for a while now. He can't help the way his back arches under the tender care of your fingers, breath stuttering as he tangles his fingers between your own so neither one can pull away and squeezes your hand, biting his balaclava in an attempt to keep himself silent.

He thinks you're aware of his deceit, you hate to be with how you lazily seek out each little painful knot along his spine, caressing each vertebra when you pass it, fingers reverently tracing his scars without an ounce of pity or disgust. But you don't draw attention to it either, face angled to look straight at the peeling paint on the ceiling so you don't somehow meet his gaze and ruin this for the both of you.

His body feels like kinetic sand and his mind is filled with low tv static, so he doesn't think when he nuzzles his nose into your neck. It's a small and timid move, easy to miss or misconstrue as just movement in his 'sleep', but to him it feels like a massive leap in. . . some kind of direction. He doesn't want to think about it now, can't think about it when the smell of you curls so nicely in his nose; like a drug he wouldn't mind getting addicted to.

He feels you move your head enough to press your lips to his temple, the heat of your skin palpable through the fabric. He shudders, eyes shut tight like he's a little kid again, sharp tears burning his eyes when you whisper in his ear how you love him, as you touch and caress his battered body to show you love him, as you kiss his temple so tenderly it hurts.

God, Simon has never wanted to do something as much as he wants to return your affection now. Even the worms and maggots crawling beneath his fingertips urge him to do it. . . but he just can't.

He's not ready for that yet, it feels too fast, too soon, his chest feels so jam-packed with feathers that his ribs will shatter if he even tries to open his mouth. So for the moment he lets himself enjoy the comfort of your hold, the press of your lips against his head, the slow glide of your fingers and the easy happy beating of your heart.

You can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) but for this single moment in time he feels alive.

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corvidcrossbow · 4 months

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~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

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ivysangel · 10 months

Note

jason and his hands😫😫 both in a sexual way but also just like… holding hands with him, feeling his callouses… but then also sitting in his lap, your back to his chest, as he lets his finger trail over your skin ever so lightly with his right hand while he’s relentlessly teasing your clit with his left (he’s just so left handed coded)

this is so funny bc i'm left handed like okay twinnn !! anyway i just like...i'm on the floor.

like, picture this. the two of you are in bed, his back to the headboard and your back to his chest. it's quiet, and the sun's just started setting. a warm spiced candle fills the room with a faint cinnamony scent, and you hold a book in your hands as the two of you silently read. his hands are on your thighs and you can feel the roughness of his callouses every time he moves them up and down, the scratchiness bringing an odd sense of comfort. you continue your reading, under the impression that he's following along with you until you feel his hair tickle your neck as he starts giving you soft kisses. you think, "yeah he's just feeling a little extra affectionate today." and flip to the next page, not giving it too much thought. but then his left hand moves further up your thigh than before, and very quickly finds it way into your panties. you don't pay him any mind, trying to keep your attention to the book in your hands. but soon enough, his fingers find your clit, and you squirm a little from the stimulation. you haven't looked at him once but you know that he's got a shit eating grin on his face right now, meanwhile you're biting your lip trying not to moan. but he's teasing you, refraining from applying enough pressure to give you release, while using his right hand to innoncently caress your thigh. god he's so annoying when he gets like this, because the book was just getting good but you know you're gonna give him what he wants.

(ohhhhh bitch i'm thinking thoughts, i'm thinking very nasty thoughts !!! you're sick for the ask but also...incredibly real)

#jason todd lover #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x reader #★ dirty laundry ★

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gojoidyll · 1 month

Text

fem!reader

Imagine being some government weapon with a quirk made for war. You know nothing but the battlefield, but when you are taken to the maim streets of Japan for a "hero" parade.

Since you weren't all that familiar with what is normal and what isn't, you are thrown through a loop! You didn't even know what TV was or that phones existed. And people smiling? That was even weirder to you.

You found that life outside of the battlefield was what you truly wanted.

You wanted that happiness so much. So in the midst of the parade, you immediately jumped out of the float you were on when the fireworks started going off.

Though, your escape was quickly taken notice of when all cameras were on you. (You didn't know what cameras were either, so you weren't aware how all eyes were literally on you.) And luckily for you, the League of Villains just so happened to have the parade on TV.

"The fuck is she running for," Dabi asked as he stared up at the TV. His back leaning into the couch as he got comfortable.

"Probably got overwhelmed," Compress stated.

"Meaning?"

"I heard that young lady is a weapon for a government. She only knows the battlefield and how to fight. So she probably got overwhelmed with seeing all that going around her."

"For real?"

"Huh-? Shigaraki, where are you going?"

"Out."

Dabi ignored him, "so what? She's never seen shit like this before?"

"No, she hasn't. I remember reading an article where is states that she wasn't accustomed to modern technology at all."

"Oh hey! Look! They lost her!"

Toga was excitedly pointing at the TV, catching everyone's attention.

Meanwhile, you huffed and puffed as you hid in an alleyway. Your tired eyes glancing to where you had entered and carefully keeping watch to see if anyone followed you. Though, your whole body seemed to tense up almost immediately as you turned yourself around and grabbed someone's wrist, their fingers mere inches from having touched your back.

"You're fast."

The voice that came out of the man's mouth was hoarse, scratchy. But it didn't sound bad at all.

"Who are you?"

Your voice cut through the air and the man smirked, the hood over his head lifting slightly.

"Shigaraki Tomura."

"Who?"

You didn't know why you asked. It wasn't like you were going to know his name anyway...

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n

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leossmoonn · 2 years

Text

All Along

masterlist

pairing - xavier thorpe x fem!reader

type - smut, fluff 16+

summary - coming to xavier for comfort, you get something else

warnings / includes - language, smut with plot!! (sorry not sorry) bsf to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, cheating, toxic relationship, semi soft sex, body worship, first time sex, unprotected sex (this is fiction, use protection in real life) alternate uni where xavier doesn’t like Wednesday (romantically)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

You wrap your arms around yourself tighter, sniffling as you walk through the forest. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, branches snapping with each stomp you make. You walk as fast as you can, needing some relief after the horrible fight you’ve just had.

Another argument sparked with your boyfriend. Surprised? No. Hurt? Yes. Annoyingly, so. Each fight seems worse, and no matter how redundant the topics are, your boyfriend manages to say worse things each time. You’re always left sobbing and alone.

But tonight you decided to reach out to the person who always told you to come to him when you needed a friend. You were going to see how well he was going to keep his word.

You softly knock on his door, shivering in the chilly night. You put your ear up to his door, hearing silence. You purse your lips and look back, debating whether or not to go. He doesn’t need to be bothered at this time of night. Not when it’s over relationship drama.

You begin to turn around, but you stop as you hear the door unlock. You turn back around, seeing Xavier in his pajamas and navy blue shirt. His hair is tousled and tangled, sticking up every which way.

“Y/n? What’re you doing here?” he asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, about to start crying again. Just thinking about your argument made you shed tears. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to articulate it.

Xavier becomes more alert as he sees a few tears run down your cheeks. He softly but firmly grabs your hand, pulling you into his dorm. He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his long arms around your back. You melt into him, thankful for the warmth and the comfort. You begin to cry more into his chest, hiccuping and snotting all over his robe.

He rubs your back soothingly, presses a light kiss to the crown of your head. The hand that’s not rubbing your back cradles the back of your head, holding you ever closer. You two stay there for a few good minutes before you are ready to pull away and speak.

Your throat is scratchy and your eyes bloodshot. Streaks of tears seem to be imprinted on your face. Your lips are puffy and swollen, some snot drying from the corners of your nostrils. But Xavier notices none of that. He cups your face, wiping the remaining tears with his thumb. His brows are furrowed as he looks back forth between your eyes, trying to conjure up his own explanation of why you’re crying in his arms at 2:28 AM.

“Let’s sit down,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from just waking up. He leads you to his bed, wrapping a blanket around you to keep you warm. He interlocks hands with you, keeping them warm. “What did he say to you?”

“Same old shit,” you sigh. “Accusing me, blaming me, shit-talking me, making rumors up about me.”

Xavier sighs heavily. You see him roll his eyes out from the corner of your eye.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks. “I mean, yeah. I’m crying,” you chuckle sourly.

“Did he touch you?” he clarifies. “No,” you shake your head. “You know he’s not like that.”

“He’s still an asshole,” he mutters. “Definitely,” you nod. “First he tells his buddies that I’m great in bed, then he accuses me of cheating, again. I mean, if he’s going to accuse me of something, he could at least change it up. Like I killed someone, or something,” you scoff.

Xavier chuckles a little. You glance at him and half smile.

“He shouldn’t be going around telling anybody about your business,” he states.

“I know, and I’ve told him. And he always promises he’ll shut up, but the next day I’m the talk of the school again!” you exclaim, frustrated.

Xavier thinks back to what he’s heard his peers say about you behind your back. Over-sexualizing you to the point where it makes him sick to his stomach. He would be lying if he said he had never thought about you sexually, but only briefly. Mostly in passing when he notices the nice dress you might be wearing, or if his mind wanders too far when he’s about to go to sleep. But the comments he hears are vile and disgusting. And especially since they are from your boyfriend who is supposed to be respecting your boundaries.

“I hope you know that when I hear those comments, I try to shut them down,” Xavier says.

Your smile now is bigger than the one before. “Really?”

“Yep,” he nods proudly. “I almost punched a guy once,” he admits.

“I appreciate it,” you pat his hand. “But you don’t need to be playing hero for me. This is my issue. My problem. My relationship.”

“Just because it’s your relationship doesn’t mean you can’t have help,” Xavier states.

You nod slowly and huff, your shoulder sagging. “But this is my own mess. I’m so stupid, Xavi.”

Xavier furrows his brows, squeezing your hand for support. “You’re not stupid.”

“Yes, I am. I mean, we fight and don’t talk to each other for a day. Then he says nice things to me and kisses me and… and I’m reminded of the guy that I fell I love with,” you mumble.

Your words are like a punch to the gut for Xavier. His hand that’s not holding yours balls into a fist, his knuckles becoming white. He wants to tell you to leave him. That this vicious cycle is toxic, but it’s nothing you don’t know already. Your boyfriend just has you under his ridiculous spell.

Maybe he could tell you. If you’ll allow him.

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, okay?” Xavier asks.

You nod and sit silently, anxious to hear what he has to say.

“Maybe he was never they guy you fell in love with. Have you ever thought that this guy who constantly is hurting you is the real him?”

This makes your heart drop. You feel sick to your stomach. You feel ridiculous now. Of course you have thought about that. This is what Wednesday told you after your second fight with him. But you stay with him because, well, you’re naive enough to fall for his apologies and sweet talk.

You’re so worthless, you think. So pathetic. Staying with a guy who is a piece of shit, and treats you like a bigger one. You can’t help but cry again.

Xavier’s eyes widens in panic. He regrets what he said. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. You came to him looking for comfort, not advice. Not the truth. And now he’s made you do the one thing he swore he would never make you do: cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, getting up and spinning in circles to try and find tissues.

“Xavier,” you call out, voice breaking. He ignores you, still trying to find those tissues and thinking of ways to make you feel better.

“Xavier,” you say louder. You groan as he still doesn’t face you. “Xavier!” you shout.

He spins around, box of tissues in his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re right. I know it, and you definitely do. It just.. sucks to hear,” you laugh breathily.

He nods, gulping hard. He sits back down next to you, holding out the tissues for you. You take them thankfully, blowing your nose and dabbing your eyes. You stay silent for a couple of minutes.

Xavier waits patiently for you to collect your thoughts, admiring you in the meantime. Your eyes are glassy from the tears, but you still have a spark in your eye that he loves to see. Your shirt, that’s ironically your boyfriend’s, hangs off of your shoulder slightly. Your leg bounces up and down as you twiddle with the hem of the shirt. In the dim light of his room, Xavier can see the dark circles under your eyes from the nights that he’s sure are full of screaming and crying instead of sleeping peacefully.

God, what he would to kiss you right now.

“I’ll end it with him tomorrow,” you decide.

Xavier’s eyes light up. He tries to contain the joy in his face, but fails embarrassingly. He grabs your hand that’s on your bed, squeezing it.

“I-I’m happy to hear that,” he stammers. “I know,” you chuckle. “You hate him.”

“Well, I can’t exactly like the guy that makes you feel like shit,” he snorts.

“Thank you for helping me,” you smile.

You hug him tightly, closing your eyes and burying your face into his shoulder. He quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. He kisses your forehead as you pull away. You smile softly, your breath becoming caught in your throat. You notice his eyes flutter down to your lips, eyeing them for a few moments. His hazel eyes meet yours. Even in the low light, you can see the golden brown flecks around his pupils.

His hand cups your cheek again, bringing your face closer. Your heart pounds in your chest. You can hear it in your ears. Your eyes frantically look over him, studying his body language. His other hand rests on your mid-thigh, warmth from his palm spreading to just below your waist.

“Xavier, what’re you doing?” you whisper.

“I…” he fails to get out the words. He’s so nervous, he can barely speak. He’s been waiting for this moment for a year now, as pathetic as it sounds.

“I thought you liked Wednesday,” you wonder.

Xavier’s brows raise and he pulls back. “Where did to get that idea?”

“You’re always following her around like a lost puppy. You even were excited about going to the Rave’N with her,” you explain.

“I was following her around because she found about my club, remember? And I wanted to get to know her more, but as friend. I don’t like her like that. Not like I like you,” he says. Saying that is like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders. Even if you don’t feel the same, which he is ready to accept, at least he is not carrying this huge secret with him. Maybe you two can still continue to be friends, too. He’d be willing to suck it up for you.

Your heart jumps with excitement. You never thought about Xavier liking you. Well, there was a tiny chance when you started dating your boyfriend. Xavier would hang around more, blatantly insult your boyfriend, try to get Ajax to stone him even. He stopped after a week or so once he realized you were serious about the guy. Not so say you weren’t, but you did miss Xavier’s efforts to get your attention.

But now you’re completely done with your boyfriend. You realize you’ve been for a while now. You’ve just been hanging on to whatever you thought you could still make work. It’s clear to you now that nothing could fix you, too, except for breaking up. That solution sounds very good. And to be frank, kissing Xavier sounds even better.

“Did I say too much?” Xavier asks, his voice a tiny bit above a whisper.

“No,” you shake your head, beginning to smile from ear to ear. “You’ve said just enough.” you bridge the gap between you two. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers sifting through his tousled hair. You bring your body up close to his, lightly pressing your chest against his.

He’s shocked and you can tell. He doesn’t reciprocate until you pull away. He brings you back, his arms holding you even closer. You sit up on your knees, taking a shallow breath as you move him to the middle of his bed. He crawls backwards until his back hits the backboard. You straddle his hips, feeling his boner up against your thigh.

Your hands slips down to his shirt, lifting it up slowly. He raises his arms, your kiss breaking for a few seconds before your lips meet again. Your teeth clash with each other, tongues tasting each other. The kiss is sloppy now, needy and fervent, but passionate.

You run your hands down his chest, his hot skin burning the palms of your hands. His hands snake under your boyfriend’s shirt, feeling your bare back. You place your hands at the bottom of your shirt, taking it off.

Xavier’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. Your tits sit so pretty, your nipples hard as a rock as the cold air nips them. He becomes impossibly harder, feeling the pre-cum soak the waistband of his underwear.

He doesn’t waste any time staring. He dives down and kisses your neck, sucking harshly on your smooth skin. He places sweet kisses along your shoulders, licking a trial down the valley between your breasts. He attaches his mouth to your nipple, raising his hand to massage your other boob.

“Enjoying yourself?” you snicker, your head tipping back in pleasure.

He looks up at you from your body, his lips sucking your boob. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire now. He smirks as he feels your body temperature rise. You smile shyly in reply. Without warning, he grabs your hips, lifting you up and flipping you two over. Your head hits the pillows, back sinking down into the mattress. You look up and see Xavier settling between your thighs. His hair cascades down his face, creating shadows over his cheeks.

Your run your hands through his hair, tucking the strands behind his ears. He smiles down at you, those smile lines you always loved so much creating ripples in his skin. His hands massage your sides, allowing you to relax even further into the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. I don’t understand how someone could treat you so poorly. You deserve so much more,” he beams, gazing into your eyes.

You lean up to his ear, nibbling on the skin just below it. A thrill runs up his spine, his eyes fluttering close. “Show me, then,” you whisper.

His head is spinning and heart pounding. He nods excitedly, kissing down your stomach, leaving no skin untouched. You let out a breathy moan in need. You want him so bad it hurts. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to obtain the friction you’re craving. He notices how much you’re moving in bed, taking one hand to trail down to your pants. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. His fingers hook under the waistband of your pants. You nod quickly, your own hands shooting down to your pants and practically ripping them off.

You kick off your pants onto the floor, leaving you almost naked. There’s a jolt of excitement that runs through his veins. His hands feels over your black panties, feeling a little wet spot right in the middle. His cock twitches in his pants as he thinks about how wet you must be, and all because of him.

Xavier picks the pace back up, trailing his lips down your stomach. You feel giddy as his lips get closer to your pussy. You feel the heartbeat between your legs, waiting painfully in anticipation for him to touch you.

He places a kiss over your underwear. You’re so pathetic you moan loudly. You buck your hips up, his nose bumping against your mound. He smiles against the fabric, bringing his head down lower to your thighs. He softly sucks your inner thighs, his hands creeping under your panties. His fingers part your pussy lips, slipping inside to feel the warm, slick center. He swallowed hard, throat becoming dry. You’re seeping juices out from your underwear and soaking his bedsheets.

You’re a little embarrassed. He hasn’t done much but kiss and touch you, and you’re already a mess. Despite your boyfriend bragging about you, you two barely ever had sex. And if you did, it wasn’t very good. Tonight was a big relief for you, especially since Xavier is doing so well, too. Your standards are so low, but you know that Xavier will raise them.

He slips two fingers inside, moving them in and out slowly. Your pussy makes a gushing noise, making him smirk up at you. He peers up at you from under his long lashes. You face feels hot as you see his cocky grin.

“You must really be desperate, huh?” he asks. His fingers go in deeper, moving up and down inside of you. He moves his body to tower over you, no wavering in his hand movements. His head hangs down next to your ear. His hair tickles your cheek. Your laugh and moan at the same time, his fingers fucking you feeling so good.

“Let me guess, he doesn’t pleasure you this well, huh?” he whispers.

“Mm-hm,” you shake your head. His other hand is on your thigh. He moves it down to your underwear, slipping under the top and finding your clit with ease. One of your hands flies up to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Xavier,” you say breathily. “Shit. Ah… ah, Xavier,” you moan. “Need more,” you whine.

You bring your other hand down between you two, tugging on the drawstring of his pants. Xavier pulls away, getting off the bed and taking off his underwear and pants.

You knew him being 6’2” would give him some length. His cock is an angry red, pre-cum leaking down and coating the sides. Your mind runs wild with how he’ll feel inside of you.

You take off your underwear, leaving both of you naked. He climbs back into the bed, sitting between your thighs. You place your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers entangling themselves in his hair. You bring his head down to yours, kissing him slowly. His heart flutters, ears turning pink as he becomes flustered. Your hand snakes down between you two, wrapping around his dick and giving him a few pumps. The pre-cum runs down your hand and drips onto your thighs.

“Wait,” he pulls away. “Do you not want to do this?” you ask, ready to get out of bed and put your panties back on.

“No, I do. Trust me, I… I really want to. But this is my first time,” he confesses.

You smile brightly, gently taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. “It’ll be mine, too.”

He furrows his brows. “I-I thought —?”

“Yeah, I never allowed him to go that far,” you chuckle. “I was waiting for someone special,” you grin, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.

Pride fills his chest. He can’t wipe the smile off of his face. His cheeks already hurt from smiling so hard. He squeezes your hand, diving down to kiss you. You both are smiling, unable to properly kiss each other. He rests his forehead onto yours, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts or anything, okay?” he asks.

You nod, spreading your legs. You try to relax as much as you can, but you’re too excited. You’ve always liked Xavier. You’ve always loved him. There’s no doubt in your mind he’s the right person for you, the right person to do this with.

He parts your pussy with his tip, slowly sliding in. Your nails dig into his hand and bicep. You bite your lip harshly, almost drawling blood.

“You okay?” he asks. “Mmhm,” you nod. You take a big deep breath in and out as he continues. “Stop, stop. I-I don’t think I can have you go any further.”

He nods in understanding, kissing your cheek sweetly. “Feels so good to me, anyways. No matter how much of me is inside.”

You giggle at his kind words, capturing his lips into a kiss once more. He slips out of you and slowly enters you, the small amount of friction making him moan in your mouth. One of his hands rests behind your head while the other goes down between you two, finding your clit. You let out a whiny moan, grabbing onto his skin.

He picks up the pace each second and you get more acquainted with his size.

“More,” you demand. He doesn’t question it, slipping another inch into you.

Your toes curl at the end of the bed. You plant your feet into the mattress, bucking your hips up to meet his. You both groan loudly, Xavier’s eyes rolling back while your head tilts back into the pillows, breaking the kiss.

“You feel so good, fuck,” he mumbles. He opens his eyes, looking down and watching as his dick exits and enters you. His pre-cum mixes with your juices, making a sloshing sound.

“Mm, Xavier. Right here,” you gasp. You buck your hips back up, his dick hitting your g-spot with just enough pressure. “Shit. Ju-just like that. Yeah, yeah. Ah, ah! Xavier!” you shout.

His thumb that’s on your clit circles it faster, his hips snapping with yours. Your muscles clench around him, and he’s almost done for. He doesn’t want to come until you do, though. He’s determined.

Your fingers scrap down his back, your body arching. Your chest meets his, the sweat from both your bodies mixing. Xavier presses his lips to yours in a messy, wet, hot kiss. His hot breath fans over the side of your mouth, his teeth clashing with yours.

“Xavi, I’m close,” you moan, eyes screwing shut. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. D-Don’t change anything. Ah, fuck.”

He keeps the exact same pressure and pace, looking down at your face. You look so beautiful when about to come. Your jaw dropped with sweat lining your neck. Your eyes are rolled back, head digging into the pillows.

“Xavier, I’m gonna, I’m gonna come! I-I’m gonna —!”

You muscles tense up and you feel the pressure lifting off of your tummy.

“Oh, fuck, Y/n,” he groans, gripping the pillow next to your head. He pulls out quickly, his whole body shaking as he comes. He manages to turn his body to the side, getting a little bit of cum on your thigh.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, quickly getting a tissue and wiping your thigh.

“No worries,” you smile. “Are you, uh, on birth control?” Xavier asks, still a little breathless.

“Yes,” you nod. “If I wasn’t, I would’ve asked for a condom.”

He smiles and nods, “right.” he puts his underwear and pants back on. He grabs your clothes, setting them on the bed next to you. “Would you like some water? Or a snack?”

“I would love some water, thank you.” you nod. You take your clothes and head to the bathroom. Xavier jogs over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks. “Yes. I feel a little sore, but I’ll be okay,” you answer.

“Okay,” he grins. He leans down and pecks your cheek and forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh happily and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I love you.“

He kisses the side of your head before pulling away. “What if your boyfriend finds out?”

“He’ll be my ex by then,” you shrug. “And I’ll be able to make up rumors about him. Like how he’s so bad and that’s why I went to you,” you wink.

Xavier smirks, “he’ll be pissed.”

“Mm, good,” you hum. You lean up and kiss him. “He deserves it.”

————

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@murdockcastleslut @kenzi-woycehoski @mayax2o07 @1-800-mocha @wetwilliam02

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe x reader smut #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe x reader fluff #xavier thorpe x reader angst #wednesday #wednesday show #sara.nsfw

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coriolantha · 6 months

Text

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader fluff #fluff #mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff #comfort fanfic #comfort fluff #comfort #lovers #self love #jhutch #fanfiction #fanfic

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thyfleshc0nsumed · 24 days

Text

I was 19, wearing the only flattering dress I had. It was all black, a rough but not scratchy fabric, flared at the waist. The bust looked pretty good on me. I bought it from a used clothes store about two months after I started publicly crossdressing when I was 16. At 17, I wore it to my grandfather’s funeral, and seven months later to my friend Liam’s funeral. That night was a different sort of occasion.

Around 11:30 I parked my car at a Comfort Inn just off the highway, about 25 minutes from my suburban apartment and sat for a few moments, finishing my cigarette, putting it out on the side of my car. I always took a moment after parking to sit with myself before going to meet someone. I was nervous, not fearful, though maybe a smarter person would have been, just as a measure of caution.

It wasn’t my first time werking, but I was still pretty green, I had only been in the real-deal-pay-to-play game for a couple months, mostly doing blow and gos before that. Full service felt like hot girl shit, it was different from the eyes-closed blowjobs I had been giving since I was 15. I was still a sexual commodity, but a sexual commodity they were willing to get a motel room for and drop more than $20 on, so I actually bothered to play dress up--and shower--for it.

I walked into the building, passed the reception desk, not paying them any mind, knowing they’d see me leave in about an hour and know exactly what I was there to do. After a trek through a few dimly lit hallways, I found the room he told me he was in and I knocked. The knocking on the door is always the scariest moment of a smooth and safe job. I always envision some vacationing mother coming to the door, distraught at having to see a fat tgirl dressed up like a whore and telling me “No, we didn’t order a prostitute, you should try 1106, this is 1160.”

Luckily, for both me and this imagined middle aged woman, I got the right room. The john opened up the door and let me in. I saw the money already laid out onto the table, quickly counted it, and put it into my purse, which I set down. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around me. He was a head and a half taller than I was and wasted no time in getting physical. After only a couple of minutes, I was laying on my back on the bed, the john kissing my legs, up to my crotch. This was a “I want to do whatever makes you feel good” john, which are actually much harder to work for than the “shut up and suck my dick, faggot” johns. I can suck a dick, but I can’t really act, though I ended up seeing this man a couple more times over the next year, so either I can act well enough or I just have a monopoly on fat non-passing tranny prostitutes in the west suburbs of Chicago.

There’s a certain way this kind of john carries himself while having sex: he moves as if trying to be seductive and sexy, as if to pretend he won me with wit and attractiveness rather than the promise of a small wad of twenties. This sort of john’s ultimate fantasy is to have sexually pleased someone–anyone!--else, a thing they are so unable to do that they have to pay a teenager to pretend that they give great head. This john did these soft, light touches, that I had to fight very hard against bursting into laughter from. The only way I can describe the head he gave is that noise that Anthony Hopkins makes in Silence of the Lambs. after he says “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fththththth.

About fifteen minutes into his lease on my body, he pulled away from me and said, “Hey baby, would you mind if I did a line off you?”

I sincerely thought about it for a moment, as it was clear he was genuinely asking. I wanted the anecdote and said yes.

He walked over to his jacket and grabbed a smallish baggie of coke and came back over to the bed, He grabbed a pinch, deposited it in a line on my left breast, and made another attempt at that seductive movement, his head bobbing and swaying for a few moments before he swooped down like a plane finally landing after circling the runway, opening his mouth as he did, and licking the line up with his tongue.

Had I not been being paid for my composure, I would have burst into laughter, the man might as well have just rubbed lidocaine on his gums. Yet again, a straight face was kept, and we got back to business.

Ten to fifteen minutes after his first line, I was laying on my stomach and he was kissing my ass and legs. Again, he asked me if he could do another line, and again, I said yes.

It is my genuinely held belief that should I, in the state of health I find myself in, ever do cocaine my heart will explode and my eyeballs will pop out of my head and dangle as in cartoons. However, simply through being a rational, reasonable human being, if I were to make the decision to both do coke, and do it off of someone’s ass, I would have a clear path on how I would accomplish that task–snort a horizontally placed line off of a cheek. My very own Mr. Lecter, however, is an outside the box thinker.

I felt a hand spread my asscheeks apart. He let out an excited sigh. His tongue landed between my cheeks, a full inch behind my asshole. It drew a line up, passed my tailbone, and into the Fat Bitch Mini Crack. After the briefest layover, his tongue took flight once more, seats now filled with coke and ass lint.

#i wrote this a couple years ago #thought itd be funny to share #emtirely true

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rottingpirate · 2 years

Text

TF-141 w/ M!reader with a deep voice

Warnings: some suggestive themes but no smut, just fluff

Price

Your voice is deep. Somewhat like a baritone, but with a soft twist to it, like melted butter.

Deep like the feeling of looking into vast waters below you in a lonely ocean. It rumbled in the chest and tested the foundations of your ribs.

He first got scared of your voice a little after you were recruited into 141. It was 0500 and you were making coffee, so you also decided to make your Captain a cup as well. He seemed to be so focused, too focused to not notice you walk in.

“Mornin, Captain" Your voice was rough and scratchy in the morning. Scared the shit out of him.

Called you a 'Fuckin demon' after muttering a thank you

Would be surprised, especially if you don't seem like a person with a voice like that

Finds it relaxing when you read books to him

Your laugh and giggles make his heart flutter

Always bites back a laugh when you, Soap and/or Gaz decide to pull pranks on other people

Once dressing up as a grim reaper, while yelling at Ghost that it's his time to go or dressing up as some scary monsters and scaring the rookies

Soap

He thinks your voice is hot

Finds himself falling in love with your voice

Makes you read books and repeat stuff to him.

“I love you” “again” “I love you” “again” "I said it 50 times already." "So? Again." “I love you, Johnny” goner

Will make you say some random words just for fun

"Bubbles" "Cupcakes" "Defenestration" "Kerfuffle"

If you have an accent then he loves it even more

Gets a mini heart attack everytime you creep behind him and whisper in his ear

Doesn't forgive you for the rest of the day

One time he let out a super high pitched scream. His body jerked in fear and he punched you right in the gut. He was very embarassed after that.

Loves pulling pranks with you

Be it dressing up or just creeping up on others and scaring the living hell out of them

Price would ground you two if he could

Ghost

His voice is deep, so he wasn't exactly startled when he first heard you

That was the first time he heard that deep voice, sure he had heard scary deep voices before, but there was something in this one that made it different, it had a calming tone instead of a threatening one.

Your voice is not that kind of deep. It flows like honey, so sweet. It's the definition of calm and collected

Lowkey records while you talk, so that he can listen to your calming voice

It actually helps him sleep

Finds you quite intimitading when you’re mad and the voice makes it 100% scarier

You might not be able to get him scared, but you can get him flustered

Finds your groans and whimpers hellishly hot

Really felt like his entire self just crumbled

If you're insecure about your voice, them he's gonna comfort you and try to show you how awesome it is

Practically forces you to love it too

Gaz

What. The fuck. Was that.

It felt like an utmost electrical shock

He was just cleaning his gun one day when someone started talking in his ear with this sinister evil devil voice

Felt like someone visited him and told him secrets he'd rather not hear

Really wants to put a damn collar bell on you so that he hears you coming

Starts calling you "Batman" And that he's your Robin

Ah shit, your voice should be illegal

Your morning voice sends him to cloud nine

But he also finds it hella cool

He would pay some real money for you to read the dictionary into his ear

He just finds it so soothing and relaxing when you're not mad

When you're mad, then he's terrified of your demonic voice

#call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #cod x male reader #x male reader #x reader

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misspanicdead · 2 years

Text

When Eddie is little they play this game.

It starts late one night, when Eddie is supposed to be asleep, tucked up in the bed that used to be Wayne's but is now solely Eddie's. There's a freak thunderstorm that wakes him, and he wanders his way into the living room and into Wayne's lap.

It's still early in their relationship, Eddie still trying to feel Wayne out- figure out how much he really cares, how safe Eddie truly is here. So, wrapped up in a blanket, head tucked against Wayne's chest, Eddie asks "would you still love me if i slept here tonight?" Voice barley audible over a crack of unexpected thunder.

It continues from there. Eddie asking random little questions at odd times. A "would you still love me if i turned purple?" at bedtime. A "would you still love me if i ate all the cheerios?" at the grocery store. Even one very memorable "would you still love me if i was a worm?" on a rainy day- he'd stopped midsplash in a puddle to ask Wayne that one, face scrunched up in seriousness.

Every time, without fail, Wayne always answers that yes, he will still love Eddie, even then.

Even as Eddie gets older and the questions get more serious, Wayne's answer never wavers.

Never.

When he comes home from work one morning to find Eddie sitting on the couch awkwardly, hands trapped behind his back, trying his level best to look casual, and asks "if i almost got busted tonight and needed you to pick the lock on some handcuffs, would you still love me?" Eddie's smile is impish, shy, but there's real fear sitting in his eyes. Wayne sighs, gets a drink, and works on setting his nephew free.

(It takes nearly an hour and three bobby pins, but Wayne still gives the kid a gruff "yes" before kissing his hair and going off to bed.)

"Would you still love me if i didn't graduate again?" Eddie asks, voice scratchy and eyes red rimmed. There's a bag sitting by his feet, overflowing with Eddie's things, like his boy is expecting Wayne to kick him out for this.

"I'll always love you, kid. And this will always be your home," he says, picking up the bag and dragging it back to Eddie's room where it belongs.

..."Would you still love me if i was gay?" It's barley a whisper, shaky and tear filled. Eddie's sitting on the far end of the couch, like he's afraid he might need some distance here and that simply won't do. Wayne stands- knee cracking painfully- and sits down next to his boy. Wraps an arm around him and pulls him into his side. He still fits like he did when he was seven.

"You listen here, and you listen good," Wayne says, "There is nothing that you could ever do or be that would make me stop loving you. Not a single damn thing."

"What if i, like, murdered somebody?" Eddie jokes wetly. Tears are starting to spill down his cheeks and Wayne knows that he's seconds away from sobbing.

Wayne sighs. "Shit, I'd probably help you hide the body." A laugh bursts out of Eddie and then they're off, laughter quickly turning into tears. Wayne holds him through it, letting a few tears of his own drip into Eddie's unruly hair.

Wayne thinks about this when he's sitting on his porch steps, smoking a cigarette and waiting for the cops to come. A dead girl lying on his living room floor behind him.

Eddie is gentle. Sweet. That just isn't in his nature to do. And Wayne knows that. Will fight tooth and nail to prove that, to find where his boy is.

Because just like he always said, he still loves Eddie.

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie and wayne munson #im sorry about this one fellas #it plagued me while i was trying to sleep and wouldn't go away until i wrote it #if it makes anyone feel better i think i hurt myself while writing it

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potentialheartofdarkness · 2 years

Text

Eddie heard Steve singing completely on accident. He’d been sitting up in bed, the bed Steve so graciously let him stay in after they got too high to go anywhere, waiting for Steve to shower when he heard it.

The angelic voice he’d never once heard before from Steve of all people.

Now don’t get him wrong, Eddie was and had been for a while; head over heels in love with Steve. They’d become friends after Vecna, bonded by trauma or whatever Dustin kept calling it, and had slowly developed into this weird in between stage. Eddie was trying not to overdo it and scare Steve away, and it seemed like Steve was doing the same. Every tiny roll of Steve’s eyes as he ducked his head to hide a smile or blush at Eddie’s words, felt like a huge win.

He’d seen a lot of Steve lately, learnt a lot about him. They dropped any pretence of sleeping in separate rooms after the nightmares, waking in a pile of tangled limbs and hurriedly pulling apart with muttered apologies. They didn’t address the fact that their apologies felt hollow. He’d learnt that Steve wasn’t sure what his favourites of anything was, always forced to go with the flow of his friends. He’d recently discovered some music he enjoyed and who was Eddie to deny the sparkling eyes of Steve begging him to listen to it with him. He was good with the kids, listening intently and keeping note of their current interests. He’d joined a few hellfire nights, drawing their characters for them. He’d discovered he had a real talent for that and Eddie had to see more of it. He convinced Steve to help draw characters and enemies for dnd nights, and design posters for Corroded Coffin gigs. He’d help Steve along, find some things he liked and helped him explore who he was as a person. Robin did too, the pair of them endlessly recommending things for him to try. Things for him to wear, possible hobbies he could do like baking and even crocheting.

Steve loved it.

But Eddie had never heard him sing before. Not until now. His voice was good, he could keep a tune, he had some natural talent. Not too high, not too low, just scratchy enough to hit the singers sweet spot. Before he knew it he was on his feet and throwing open the bathroom door.

“Stop screaming, Stevie, it’s just me.” He said and Steve peaked his head around the curtain.

“Jesus Ed’s, scared the shit out of me.” His fear melted into mild annoyance and confusion. “Why are you here?”

“You didn’t tell me you can sing!” Eddie accused and Steve flushed, pulling his head back behind the curtain. Eddie heard him start rinsing his hair and immediately went red when he realized their position.

“I didn’t realize that warranted busting down the door when I’m mid shower.” Steve grumbled before he sighed, apparently finished with the water and he shut the tap off. “I’m stepping out.” He warned.

“Steve Harrington, fresh out of a shower and completely nude? My heart won’t stand the sight.” Eddie tried to go for flirtatious to hide his embarrassment but it didn’t quite hit. “I’ll wait outside.” He shut the door behind him. Less than a minute later Steve was opening the door, towel wrapped around his waist and hair still dripping wet. Eddie’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Steve shirtless, what with the Lovers Lake incident and then countless days spent in his swimming pool during the summer. But it always left Eddie sort of breathless, words caught in his throat, heart pounding in his chest.

“Cat got your tongue?” Steve asked, smirk tugging at his lips, as Eddie realized he’d been staring a little too long to be subtle.

“You didn’t tell me you could sing! And I mean really sing, Stevie, like you’re good.” Eddie followed him back to the bedroom and Steve laughed lightly.

“Yeah, church choir and all that when I was little.” He replied, searching his drawers for some sweatpants and one of his yellow sweaters. “I don’t usually sing much anymore, my parents hated it and I didn’t have any songs I liked.” He shrugged and Eddie spun to face the wall when Steve started to drop his towel. He looked at the roof and prayed to any god that could hear him that his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Well I like it.” Eddie’s voice was quiet and with his back to Steve he didn’t see the way his hands fumbled the sweater before pulling it over his head. “And, it’s the perfect kind of voice for some background vocals we’re looking for.” Steve tapped him on the shoulder and he turned back around to face him.

“Background vocals?” Steve perched himself on the edge of his bed as Eddie started pacing, talking with his hands as he tried to explain.

“Okay so, we have this gig coming up and they’re going to let us record an album, like an actual professional album, and we need some background vocals on the tracks.” He stopped and pointed at Steve. “And you, sweet beautiful amazing you, Steve Harrington, have the best fucking vocals for the background track that I have been looking for for months!” Steve stared at him, his face was unreadable and Eddie felt a bit of anxiety pool in his stomach.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Steve asked, and Eddie groaned, running his fingers across his face.

“That’s not the point Steve, I’m asking if you’d do the background vocals.” Eddie took two steps forwards and poked Steve in the forehead and Steve swatted his hand away.

“No lets go back to that. You think I’m beautiful.” Eddie’s face went red and he looked away towards the window.

“It was a slip of the tongue.” He protested before attempting to change the subject. “Look all I’m saying is that, you’re perfect.” Steve’s face broke out into a grin and he rushed to continue his sentence. “I mean for the track! Your voice! It’s perfect! God, whatever. We don’t even have to put your name on it, and if you want to do even more than background vocals maybe we could do that too.” He grumbled, burying his face in his hands to hide the vibrant red screaming off his cheeks.

“So you think I’m perfect, and beautiful.” Eddie dropped his hands to give Steve the most incredulous look, only to be met with a shit eating grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you.” He went to take a step away but Steve caught him by the wrist.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Eddie spun back around. “You will?”

“Yeah why not, maybe it will be fun.” Steve shrugged, aiming for nonchalant but Eddie could see a pleased grin tugging at his mouth. His eyes sparkled with interest and oh god, Eddie was so far gone.

“Steve Harrington I could kiss you right now, holy shit.” Eddie breathed, filled with excitement and anticipation.

“Okay.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said okay.” Steve met Eddie’s eyes again, a little bit of hope and fear stirring underneath the brown irises and well, Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.

(They recorded the album a week later, and Steve even had a side part in a song Eddie had written about him, though he didn’t know it was about him until a few weeks later when Dustin mentioned it.)

#steddie au #steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things au #guys idk what this is it was supposed to be small and now it’s this #i’m going insane anyone want anything #remy speaks #season 1 steve singing to nancy just #lives in my head rent free why don’t we see more of that

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

Text

coward

pairings: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader

summary: in which joel wanted to stake claim over you, but he's too much of a coward to do so. aka jealous emotionally pent-up joel

word count: 3.5k

warnings: suggestive, not explicit just mentions of sexual relationships

notes: this was ultimately cliché as shit but i NEED to write it

Clank. Clank.

Sunset has fallen upon the town just mere minutes ago. Gleeful chirping of the local birds were quickly replaced by a chorus of cicadas, loud clattering of metal cutleries, and scratchy scrapes against plates. There was a foreign atmosphere settling between tonight’s dinner participants and to be honest, it’s much weirder than you anticipated.

It’s foreboding; alike to those family dinners you’d attend to exchange bland pleasantries with cousins and nephews. The kind where you’d have to swerve from uncomfortable questions probing into your personal life, whether it’s your marital status or your paycheck. Except there wasn’t that much of a crowd tonight. Just you, your ‘date’, and Joel Miller.

Joel Miller was someone you couldn’t label properly.

You weren’t exaggerating in the slightest bit when it comes to your complex relationship with him, if you could even call what you had with him a relationship to begin with.

It’s just too messy and embarrassing. It’s like trying to pick apart a tangled up ball of yarn, hoping you’d figure out when things began and when it ended.

Has it even ended? The particular question had you mindlessly stabbing the roasted chicken you managed to cook up. It’s a little overcooked and mildly underseasoned, but it’s better than the alternative. Joel’s staple, which was heated up cans of Chef Boyardee’s Beefaroni, had always been reserved for those who’d acquired his unique tastes. You and Ellie were his number one frequenter when it comes to it.

Joel looked displeased by the pleasantries. His nose crinkled briefly, but he played along regardless. “I go on patrols most of the time, but I could fix things too here and there.”

“So.. Joel, right? What do you do ‘round Jackson?”

Jack managed to break up the everlasting silence with his low-register voice. You assumed that despite the initial awkwardness, he had at least enjoyed the food, considering the heaping glob of mashed potatoes he’s adding onto his plate.

“Oh. That’s nice. I’ve never gone on a patrol before,” Jack shared briefly, only to beam a shy smile towards you. He’s a cute boy you won’t lie. Maybe that’s why you scouted him off the bar last week. “I take care of the horses with her.”

“Jack’s also from Texas, you know. Thought you two would get along,” you opined.

You watched the cocky raise of eyebrows Joel did and the half-smile following after. He’s silently judging the excuse of a man you’ve brought home tonight, that or he’s just not in the mood for a late night chat after such a troublesome day.

Joel had always been an incredibly difficult man to read. You still think you could read a horse better than him. You’ve gotten better at it throughout the years you’ve spent alongside him, especially after the trip around America for Ellie’s sake, but it’s still a hit or miss most times. It almost felt like he kept changing the numbers to the safe. Just when you thought you’ve cracked the code, he’ll have you come right back to square one.

Joel’s mouth twitched at your silly little assumption, his face contorted as if asking you if you’re for real. You shrugged, amused in a sense. It’d be good for him to start making actual friends, right? Right now his circle was a limited bunch with you being the only non-family acquaintance. His social skills were something you and Tommy are both working on these days. Plus, Jack’s easy on the eyes, so it’s two birds in one stone.

“I see you still have a thing for Texas boys, hm?”

Joel teased you, this time not even bothering to flash you one of his degrading glares. He pretended like he’s really into the colorful medley of roasted root vegetables you’ve roasted, when you know for a fact he hated any kind of greens. He’d only pretend to like it when Ellie’s around, preaching around about its importance. You realized that you’re getting sidetracked from the real offense he’s just given. A jab of jealousy you’d say.

What kind of game is he playing? Was it another one of his ‘push guys away from you because all men are shit and you’d get hurt’ game? Jack was such a sweetheart, he didn’t even catch on to Joel’s implications, instead he settled on laughing alongside your awkward chuckles.

“Friends?”

“How long have you two been friends?”

Jack’s eyes sparked with curiosity, looking like he’s genuinely in awe of the fond illusion you two must’ve convinced him with.

Joel grinned, a corner of his full mouth lifted at the thought. He almost looked pleased at the premise.

“Two years,” you chimed in for a quick save.

“Man, I thought you two were together,” Jack confessed, salad dressing smeared lightly on his top lip. “Can’t say I ain’t happy when she came sizing me up for a date.”

Your gaze cruised back towards Jack, fluttering a sweet smile his way in case he finally caught up to Joel’s inappropriateness. All you saw was just an innocent look of acknowledgement. His cheeks brightened and swept by a soft wave of pink when he noticed you looking his way, appearing to be thrilled that you spared him a chunk of your attention.

Such a sweetheart. It wouldn’t be so bad if you actually got serious with him; move into a small cottage house, raise chickens and sheeps. Then you could finally bask in stability and mutual understanding. The two things you’re currently lacking.

A silent beat passed at his words.

You humored him with an obscure chuckle, but it was painfully obvious how the atmosphere dimmed and crumpled ever so slightly around the edges. It’s not the first time the two of you were mistaken as a couple by other villagers, even Tommy and his wife were dead set convinced the first time you sauntered in with him. The months spent on the road with Ellie and him were life changing to say the least and you’d like to think the two of you were bonded by such traumatic events. He needed a purpose, you needed refuge. It’s always been like that from the start.

There wasn’t even a tinge of romance to humor. Once in the past, you made the mistake of giving in to your ‘delusions’. You wondered whether the silent brief touches he made whenever he walked beside you meant something more. You wondered whether the way he reacted exaggeratedly when you prick your fingers on a rotten door frame meant that he cared. You wondered whether the confessions he made while you were curled up, riding out a fever from a stab wound meant that he wanted you. Those pathetic flourishing feelings were stomped by the heavy soles of his boots the one time you asked.

You could still remember vividly the terrible things he said and the way you sobbed your heart out at that. Thinking back, you’d understand why he said what he said. It was wrong of you to humor such thoughts.

Jack hummed fondly into his handkerchief, neatly cleaning up his fresh shaven complexion that always seemed to make him look a few years younger than what he truly is. He’s more of your age, something you took into account when he came up in your radar. That must mean he’s more suitable for you, right? Unlike Joel who’s reeling into his late fifties; who’s probably too old for all the ‘childish’ shit you put him through. Jack’s also kind and considerate. He went out of his way to get you a basket of fresh apples when you’re sweating bullets trying to catch a loose mare. He never scowled or snapped at you. He’s good for you.

“No. We’re just really good friends,” Joel spoke up firmly into the warm summer air.

It looked like he’s finished with his meal, assuming from how squeaky clean his plate has gotten. Good that he’s filling up. You’ve always liked guys with a little more pudge to them. Not that it mattered. You two were just really good friends as he put it.

“I don’t think I can stay friends with a gal so pretty,” Jack chimed in flirtatiously, a charming smile etched its way across his lips.

You smiled in return, making sure to count to three before letting your eyes wander back to where Joel was sitting. It might be wrong for you to be searching for another man’s reaction when you’re here having sweet Jack as your date. What was certainly wrong was how your stomach finally rumbled with nervous butterflies when you saw his expression. When you saw the small itch disrupting his collected expression; setting his lips into an unimpressed thin line, a small vein prominent on his neck.

God, you wish you could capture the moment on camera.

The rest of the evening went by civilly; you’d expect your really good friend to rip Jack’s head right off when he kept making those stupid flirtatious jokes. Joel looked like he was trying his best to stay grounded and rational, but it's no secret he's holding back a dirty scowl. You caught the way he stuck his tongue onto his inner cheek, or the way he scrutinized each and every joke your date made. Forcing him to explain it thoroughly and embarrassing him in the process; you know he’s an ass, but tonight he’s really testing your limits.

You’d imagine he’d have an excuse as to why he’s behaving this way, like how your veggies tasted weirdly bland he couldn’t hold back his face. It’s unbelievably silly how he thought you’d believe such things at your grown age. That’s another thing to deal with.

At the moment, you just needed to focus on bidding Jack a sweet goodbye. His smooth blond hair glimmered underneath the moonlight as he leaned in for a kiss. One you didn’t expect quite yet, but you didn’t have the heart to push him away. He’s been a good company after all.

As you expected, it didn’t feel right. His lips were soft and tasted like fresh oranges, but it didn’t feel right. Was it a mistake to keep him at bay when you’re still unable to let go of your peculiar crush? Probably. You were deep in thought as you pulled the front door closed. A gust of wind blowing over your shoulder while you let the guilt marinate into every inch of your skin.

You felt icky.

“I don’t like him.”

Joel’s disdain traveled quickly along the walls, down the hallway, and onto the exact spot where you’re standing. You turned on your heel to face him, your lips drew back in a snarl. After everything you went through tonight, all the pillow cushioning so that Jake doesn’t feel all the more offended by his audacity, and you’re rewarded with this? You expected him to do one thing and he couldn’t even make it right.

“Yeah?” you piped up, eager to rile him up. “Well, I like him a lot.”

He’s used to listening to your childish preambles. It didn’t take him long to learn how much fun you have just by disobeying his rules, going through with whatever your heart desires, even when it poses a great danger to your own safety. You’re always tricky to deal with, but it’s the only thing that keeps his heart pounding at his old age. The only thing that made him feel alive, thawed after years of surviving. Maybe that’s why he still persisted in keeping you around.

“I’m serious, sweetheart. He sounded like bad news.”

Fucking sweetheart? You scoffed, sounding offended. He would always use that nickname whenever he’s trying to get something through your thick head, whether it’s to stop you from jumping head first into a pond or in this case, to stop you from making rash decisions. He knew what he does to you. He knew that you’d always listen, but not tonight.

“If you spend just one second of your precious time listening to what he has to say, you might actually see what I see,” you glowered. “You were fucking with him the entire time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were looking down at him, Joel. You always do that. Think everyone’s beneath you.”

“I wasn’t. He’s just a little.. well, flimsy for you.”

“Oh fuck off. You don’t know a thing about me.”

That was a complete lie. He knew more things about you than you’d like, like the way you like your coffee in the morning and which horses were your favorite.

“I don’t?”

“You don’t.”

You solidified your answer, trudging your way past his shoulders like some agitated teenager. Joel thought you looked cute upset and maybe that’s sick of him, but he couldn’t help but be entertained at the way your lips jutted out in disagreement. You’re like this young new thing he’s obsessed with.

“Okay, okay. Come here. Don’t be upset at me. Jake is a nice boy.. I guess,” he gave in to the commotion you made, although he still felt somewhat bitter.

Jake’s not that much different from what he’s like when he’s younger. Way before his kid, his botched marriage, and the apocalypse. When he’s twenty with a vision for life. It vexed him to admit that he was truly a good man for you. That the man you chose for once wasn’t a scheming jackass. “He worked with horses?”

“Yeah,” you gave in, flashing him the look. The one where you’re further emphasizing that you’re certain with your decisions, that you don’t need him guiding you towards what’s wrong and right like he always has. “He’s good with the horses.. and with me too. Gave me apples when it’s in season.”

Joel’s dark eyebrows curved at your statement. His arms lifted further up to rest against the thin of his waist, a judgemental stance in action. Did you think things like that were peak romance? What about all the times he personally executed all those clickers lurking over you? Whether it’s with a gun or a knife, he’s sure that he’d top Jack when it comes to things he did for you.

“Well then I’m happy for you,” he concluded with a curt nod, doing the one thing you didn’t expect him to do. You scrutinized his expression in response.

“You’re happy for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna go on a date with him.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m gonna get him to kiss me again.”

“Wow. Sounds fun.”

“I’m gonna get him to fuck me so hard you could hear me in your stupid room, Joel.”

That one surely struck a nerve deep within him, judging from the way his lips contorted in disbelief. You’ve never been so.. vulgar in front of him. Not once have you mentioned anything about your sexual desires in front of him and so he thought you didn’t even know those kinds of things existed despite your big age.

Maybe you’re untouched by the twisted world you’re living in. He assumed you were this sweet girl with an innocent crush on him, eyes twinkling with admiration everytime he walked in a room. He loved the attention, shamefully so, and he’d love to savor it as long as possible. Even when it felt wrong. He didn’t think it was possible for you to look at another in that manner. The thought had him marching towards you, large figure towering over.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” you challenged him.

“Because you’re doing this for attention.”

“I’m not,” you struggle to keep the act upright.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you actually like him. Tell me you like that silly boy.”

You gaped at his request. Adam’s apple bobbing reluctantly as you gathered every last bit of your plummeting confidence to look up into his eyes. They were arrogant; browns peering down at you like he’s just delighted to domineer, to reassert the magnitude of his influence towards you. He caged you in with merely a look.

This spited you. He’s always been like this. Give you some room to explore so that you don’t feel trapped with him, but he’d always give a little tug to your leash whenever you forget your position. You were his, before he was yours. That was rule number one.

“I like him,” you repeated yourself, bracing for the onslaught of tsunami he might release at your stubbornness. “He’s kind and sweet and lovely and.. and he has the balls to tell me how he felt about me.”

His expression of disapproval seared through your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable to whatever it is he’s going to say right back at you. You could tell that he was livid, although he's clearly trying his best to be the better man out of the two of you and stay grounded.

He knew what you're like. He knew that you're riling him up so that he'd cave in to your requests, because God was it terribly hard to stay put when you're looking at him like that. Round pupils bared into his own. Joel felt the revolting urge to soothe your worries, to utter meaningless words of assurance, to validate the bond he's been trying his best to suspend. His desire festered like it was contagious, blurring the line of boundaries.

“If this is about last week, you know my answers remained unchanged.”

"Why?"

You sounded hopeless and it's clawing at his skin.

"It's unfair to you."

"You know what's unfair, Joel? Acting like you gave a damn, then shutting me out of your life like I meant nothing."

You scoffed. You weren't just desperate for an answer now, no, you were furious. Angry that he thought he could make the decisions for you, that he could be the one to determine which things were right and wrong for you when he knew for a fact that you're a grown woman with your own mind to rely on. Angry that he'd put his self worth in the gutter. Angry that he thought you'd judge him even after the things you've been through together; endless drives through the motherland, camping under a sea of stars, dancing with death itself.

Was it that bizarre of an idea? You plucked up the courage to get even closer. The frilly yellow ruffles of your sundress grazing his crossed forearm.

You poked an accusing finger into his chest.

"Drowning yourself in your pathetic pity party because oh, you're so broken. So undeserving of love."

Your furrowed eyebrows drove him insane.

"Yet you still keep me around. Couldn’t push me away because God knows you need me more than you'd like."

Your labored breath teased the column of his neck.

"That's what's unfair. The fucking waiting. The dancing around. Put me out of my misery, Joel."

He didn't know what to say. Silenced for once.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me."

You dared him, just like how he dared you. Joel felt conflicted. His vision glued onto the tips of his worn down leather boots as if it’d provide some kind of answer to your demands, He inhaled sharply, before letting out a shaky sigh. Afraid that he’d promise you something he couldn’t own up to, especially since his sharp edges are now dulled from age.

Joel couldn’t be selfish. No, he couldn’t be that person any longer when he has one foot in the grave.

He knew his end was approaching.

Subtly, but surely. His heart tightened sporadically every time he’d run a little too fast. His joints were stiff and useless, enough that Tommy threatened to pull him off patrols if he kept pushing at his pace. He recalled the incident from his last trip. How he barely escaped a loose infected because his senses had dampened. Your voice also seemed to become more and more faint; he couldn’t even hear the list of items you’ve burdened him with on a shopping trip. Whether you needed a jar of raisins or a pair of shears.

Claiming you was selfish.

He decided on that awhile ago. Far before you’ve realized your infatuation with him, far before you offer such a sweet proposition.

“Come back to me when you stop being a fucking coward, Joel.”

His throat grew parched at the buzzing silence. He willed himself to touch you, even when it burned his finger tips and sizzled the tip of his ears red. You looked furious, but that cute expression faltered in a miniscule of a second when he cupped the side of your cheek. His thumb stroked agonizingly slow as if you'd evaporate into thin air if he was too brash.

He'd always thought you’re beautiful. One of a kind. Whether it’s when you’re drooling embarrassingly or when you’re dressed up for the commune’s party. But you look the most unbelievable when you’re worried for him.

Was that selfish of him? He traced over your bottom lip gently, feeling the plush material underneath. How he longed to press his lips onto yours. Would it taste sweet? Would you feel soft? His bottom lip quivered, unable to form an answer.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #tlou #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine

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buckyandgeraltsupremacy · 1 year

Text

Not Alone Part 2 (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

joel miller x fem!reader

when you find yourself completely alone, you might just have to look up to realize you aren't.

warnings: mentioned death of family members; injuries; joel being mean (soft); probably typos lol

author: sj

masterlist

part one / part three

another part in the works :)

---

After your painful wonderful shower for the first time in forever, you found new clothes on the bed and went down to the kitchen to try to find something to eat. And as Maria promised, there was some food that looked like it would last you the day sitting on the counter. Your self control was ripped from you and you ended up eating the whole thing sitting on the floor.

Once the last bite of food was gone, it was then realized how utterly alone you were. You tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't seem to get your lungs to be able to work. You let yourself think about your brother for the first time. Luke wasn't supposed to go like that. Your baby brother. The only one you had left. You weren't a spring chicken any more, but you still felt like he was still a kid. You were five years older than him and he was your best friend. Not once, did you ever think he would leave your side. Much less, get bit. It all happened so fast. And all you could think about was having to shoot him with your last two bullets.

The tears streamed down your face and you got up and stumbled through the back door to get outside. The walls were closing in and you needed to get out. Ironic that the past few weeks, all you wanted was real shelter, and now that you had it, you couldn't stand it. You burst out of the back door and quickly stumble down the steps to the grass. The sobs racking your body as you mourn your life long best friend.

You don't know how long you laid there. All you know is that when the sun went down, your cheeks were dry and tight with the dried tears. You couldn't move but as you watched the sunset and the stars start to shine, you felt your lungs start to rise up and down again. You would be okay. You would have to be. You'd have to pull your weight. Even if it meant with a broken arm. It was okay that you were all alone. Others had done it, and if it was Luke, you would've wanted him to go on. He deserved to live a normal life and you would live it for him if you had to.

You sighed and rolled to your side to get up, freezing when you saw the little girl from next door sitting in a chair at the back of her house yards away from you. You mustered a smile, cheeks heating with the thought of her witnessing your grief. You waved and she waved you over. You swallowed your pride and slowly walked towards her and sat in the chair that she pointed to. What you didn't see was the man in the kitchen a few feet from the open back door that was one hundred percent eavesdropping.

"I don't think I've ever seen so many tears from one person." She said quietly, obviously trying to lighten the awkwardness.

"Well. I've been holding it in for a while, guess it was bound to come out at some point." You shrugged with one shoulder.

"What really happened to your arm?"

"Um... My brother broke it. He got infected and... yeah, just got broken in the struggle." You said, voice scratchy from your crying.

"Oh shit. Sorry. Thats... tough." Ellie said, earnestly trying to give you comfort. You nodded, grateful for her comfort, but not wanting to say it was okay, because truthfully, it wasn't.

"Ellie. Come eat." Joel yelled as he stuck his head out the back door. You jumped at the loud voice, his eyes latching onto the jumpy form.

"You can eat with us. Right Joel?" Ellie looked to Joel and she asked again, more forcefully this time. "Right Joel?"

"Yes." He said, softer, tone still hard as a rock.

"He's not as much of an asshole as he sounds. He just genuinely has an assholey voice." You smiled at her side comment to you and looked to Joel.

"If you're sure. I've already ran out of food. I won't each much I promise. Ate plenty for lunch, for the first time in... a long time." You said to him, getting up out of your chair and following Ellie into the kitchen.

Dinner went quietly, mostly filled with the sounds of silverware and Ellie asking you if you knew any puns. You quickly went home after dinner and Joel went to bed thinking about how your sobs sounded as you laid in the grass.

---

The next morning, Joel went to the stables to see if there was anything he could do around the barn. He wasn't scheduled for patrol until the next day, but needed something to do. He didn't like being home alone when Ellie was off at school learning god knows what. He knew he had to stay busy to keep his thoughts from spiraling.

As he walked into the stables and passed some of the stalls, he heard soft grunting. He slowed to a stop and peeked into the open stall the someone seemed to be in. Only to find you shoveling or attempting to shovel horse shit into a wheelbarrow. He watched as you tried to pick up the shovel that was loaded with one arm as you guided to help yourself pick it up with the arm that was not supposed to be in use. You grunted and then huffed out a frustrated sigh when it tipped and you dumped it, missing the wheelbarrow. The wheel barrowthat you wouldn't be able to carry with one arm. He wasn't quite sure why but it made him angry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked sharply. He watched you jump and then sigh a small smile gracing your face as a greeting.

"Shoveling horse poop." You replied with a tired smile, immediately going back to trying to pick up the pile that you dumped.

"No shit sherlock." No pun intended. My god he was becoming Ellie. "I mean, why the hell are you shoveling with a broken arm? You're going to hurt yourself more." He said, walking in the stall and grabbing the shovel from your hands quickly.

"I'm trying to pull my weight. There weren't any shifts left any where and I have to get food some how. I don't know about you, but I'm not a fan of starving." You said, the smile leaving your face, and being replaced by a frown, looking at the shovel in his hands. He sighed and brushed a hand down his face in what seemed like frustration.

"Look. I'll finish up for you and then we can go to the hall and grab you some breakfast, yeah? If Ellie hears that I didn't feed ya, she'll feed me my hands for dinner. And don't worry about this shit until you're better. You're not gonna get better if you don't rest it." He demanded, not looking at your face as he finished shoveling the horse feces in the stall. Your wrist giving a nice dull throb that sent you grabbing your sling from your bag and putting it back on.

You watched as he lifted up the wheelbarrow and drove it past you towards the pile, muttering to himself about how you 'couldn't even fucking lift it if ya tried'.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting in the hall with a meal in front of you, eating like you were starved. Cause you basically were. After this mornings out burst, he hadn't said much to you and had just watched you with his brown eyes studying you, creases deep on his face.

"Don't worry about meals until your wrist heals up. You come to us for it, yeah? Ellie likes you and she doesn't get many older women in her life." You nodded, a smile returning to your face. Joel's chest did that weird cracking and blew out a breath. He didn't think he had any room left in there and he had a bad feeling you were going to squeeze in any how.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller hbo #joel miller x you #the last of us

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satoruzlove · 2 years

Text

- festive season hcs

with a little twist;)

suna rin , kuroo tetsurou , atsumu miya, osamu miya , sakusa kiyoomi

! lots n lots of fluff, mentions of food / eating , curse words ,i think i said the word assault, probably time skip spoilers,spoilers as to whether santa is real or not, alcohol mention in both the miyas’ part!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

r suna !

• honestly just does what u’d wanna do cus he isn’t suuuper into decorating or anything

•if ur like that too then your christmas is rly mellow. u guys put up the christmas tree and get eachother gifts, play in some snow n take cute pics but that’s pretty much it

•lots of christmas movie cuddles though ,, sees it as an opportunity to just be close with u

• he would want a fire place hang out session. u guys find every single pillow in the house n pile it in front of the flame ( safe distance . dw ) and make some hot coco. at first you guys are just in silence, then rin may start a conversation by saying something about how “ y,know, my sister would’ve loved this kinda thing, ‘wanna visit her soon,”

•honestly only holds it dear to him because he loved watching his sister grow up and open presents with a look of pure joy on her face </3

• EXCELLENT GIFT GIVER. ALSO GOOD AT HIDING THEM

•gets u guys matching scratchy sweaters n urs has a little kitty w a santa hat on it

•his has a tree and a biiiiig star on the top with a smiley face on it

•if u suggest , he’d have a BALL making cookies w u . there’s flour everywhere, he’s flung the dough at u in little balls , he’s licking his lips to make sugar stick to it and then kissing you all over

• eventually when they’re made he eats them and then proceeds to look at u in the eye and say they taste like the sound of ur laughter cus u guys were having fun while making them

•keeps eating but then realises how fucking cheesy that was n looks at u, n ur just like 😦

•never ever lives it down

•his ig highlight of u has like +50 new pics of u guys making cookies, waiting for them to bake n then him eating them

•you had to slap him like three times to make sure he didn’t eat the dough

• “ idc about solomon or whatever is in the eggs, life is short”

•he doesn’t get ‘solomon’ thankfully

•the night before you come home from work to see this unreasonably large pile of gifts under the tree that wasn’t there when u left

•n of course u still had urs hidden cus rin is annoying and would open them if he so much as smelt the wrapping paper

•so he comes n finds u and goes “ before you say anything, i know i can’t wrap for shit “ and ur like??? but when u look closer you see it.

•the paper is crumpled beyond your wildest dreams, theres rips covered up with tape and a lot of tiny bows to cover the rest that were a little too big

•honestly , a for effort

• you guys go to sleep in the ugly sweaters and when you wake up rin isn’t there anymore

•you go downstairs n he’s doing smth in the kitchen

•you sneak up behind him and he’s making those cute santa head pancakes with the banana beard

•they were so good

•b4 u open gifts he stops u n he’s like i wanna give u one myself first

•n it’s this tiiiny little box. fits in ur palm

•u open it and there’s a fucking zip tie on it so u struggle for like five minutes b4 getting scissors to cut it

•and u open it up, and it’s a gorgeous little ring

•with sapphire ( to match his eyes, he later explains ) in the middle

• you inspect it and you see “ because we are my favorite gift i’ve ever received “ scrawled beautifully into the metal of the band

•he smiles at the stupid look on ur face and goes “ i know marriage isn’t a thing we want right now, so a promise ring is the next best thing.”

•he has a matching one with a stone that holds your eye colour too

•told u he was good at gifts 🤷🏽‍♀️.

t kuroo !

•oh my god

•the tree is up in mid november and he’s already humming along to christmas music as he’s making lunch for u

•BEGGED U to paint little christmas trees or bobbles ( what do u guys call them, ornaments, i have no idea ) on his nails- will tell everyone at the office about how , “ my baby did them for me, aren’t they so festive ?”

•if you tell him it’s early he’ll scoff directly at u and go “ it’s never to early to be festive , you little grinch incarnate”

•you don’t miss the way he smiles at u lovingly when ur whistle along to his corny , crappy christmas music

•cue kuroo attempting to hit a mariah carey high note in ‘ all i want for christmas is you ‘ and bowing when he’s done like he didn’t just assault your ears

•you clap anyway cus he looks proud

•buys peppermint sticks n sucks on them randomly and will stick them in ur face. his speech is slurred with spit and by the candy as he says ,” bite “ but he TRICKS U and keeps it in his mouth so u can kiss him

•buys u corny matching christmas shirts with the shittily printed words on them

• FORCES u to wear them too

•he has these rly cute reindeer sockies and he slides around on the hard wood floors when he hears ,” it’s a holly , jolly christmas !” come from the radio, he almost fell directly onto his ass. he says he saw his life flash before his eyes

•when christmas eve rolls around you guys leave out milk n ( shop bought ) cookies for santa . u pretend that u didn’t notice him out of ur arms at 3am, n that u didn’t hear him almost drop the cup trying to wash it

•when u wake up he’s STARING at u like the fucking weirdo he is and he’s like gm bae and ur like bro fuck off holy shit

•you guys brush ur teeth, shower ( he didn’t wanna ) and go down

•you both left the presents there beforehand but he’s still so excited lol

•you’re opening up a present with some clothes folded and you feel smth hard

•it was a round box of reddish velvet

•you glance at him with a raised brow and he takes it from u, asking u to stand up. u obviously tell him to piss off but he eventually convinces u to stand

•he’s now on one knee and ur like ??? TETSUROU

•he opens the box n it’s a pretty simple silver band with a diamond in the middle

• he takes in the way ur eyes well up and ur lip wobbles, eyes searching his to make sure this isn’t a joke. he assures u it isnt.

• “ but tetsu -“

“ i wanna spend my life with you, baby,” his voice lowers to a whisper,” if you’ll have me, god i’d love if you’d have me. i’m already so blessed to be with you, i can’t imagine what it’d feel like to have you forever.”

• I WILL NOT FUCKING CRY

• you accept OBVIOUSLY

•you spend the rest of the day toying around with y’all’s gifts n making phone calls to his dad, grand parents, your parents and friends about the proposal

• “ damn, u fr stuck with him now ” - kozume , 2022 ( or whenever idc leave me alone )

•yalls fav christmas. he has a polaroid in his phone case from that day, the date messily written in sharpie and a lipstick stamp of your own on the side.

a miya !

•bye

•stop immediately

• “BABY DO YK WHAT DAY IT IS?”

“ ,, thursday ?”

“ITS THE FIRST OF DECEMBER.”!!!3;£&:92;£&:2@!!!!!”

•the entire team knows that atsumu LOVES christmas because who doesn’t like a festive for gifts, good food and movies ? crazy people .

•never lets osamu breathe cus they have christmas dishes at the restaurant and “ as your brother, you gottaaaaa let me try it first .”

•drags u along too but samu doesn’t mind cus ur nice

•comes up to u randomly and goes “ there’s *insert number* days left til christmas, babes, can you BELIEVE IT???!”

•however if the topic sticks too long he starts getting emotional and saying how he’s already spent another year with you, and it still feels like a couple weeks because the relationship is ‘ so timeless’ , how he’s gonna spend the rest of his years with you

•he did cry until u calmed him down lol

•if ur into baking he will FLIP OUT and say how that’s so cool, and he’ll watch u baking. asks “ what’s that for? “ every few minutes n be your personal spoon licker

•lots of huggles by the fire and spilt hot coco

•gets extra clingy bcus it’s cold ):

•rly likes the smell of ginger bread n got u a lotion that’s scented like it so when u wear it he just

•clings to u

•takes out his snowman sleeping mask n wears it religiously even tho he ends up sliding it off in his sleep

•the days approaching christmas are absolutely mad because the malls n shopping centres r PACKED but tsum refuses to stay in the house

•begs u to sit on santa’s lap so he can take pictures and the person playing santa thinks it’s funny n play along

•he now has that picture on the fridge n looks at it for like an hour every day cus you look so cute

•on christmas eve you guys sit down and wrap up gifts for your friends and family, giggling and throwing balls of paper at eachother.

• he looks so proud when he wraps his first one with no mistakes lololol

•he did get a paper cut

• “ baby, i’m injured, kiss my finger ):”

“ no tsumu”

“ can’t believe it’s almost christmas and yer being so mean. where’s the holiday spirit ? yer like the grinch. “

“ what was that last bit ?”

“ nOTHING BABY.”

• on the actual day you guys go to a party at hinata’s and he says he’s got plans for after

•most of the day is spent chatting to his guys, taking cute pictures with bokuto’s girlfriend, nearly throwing up seeing hinata and kags eyeing eachother

•when it’s all over you guys get in the car and you drive bcus tsum had eggnog

•he drowsily reminds you of his plans and tells you where to drive

• he’s gazing at you from behind his lashes as u drive, nodding when he gives u directions

• you end up at this park place with a lake, and it’s so shimmery in the moonlight

•he’s pretty sobered up, so he walks you to a tree with fairy lights on it and you’re a little confused - but happy

• “ baby, y’know why i brought you here?”

“ to fuck? to drown me?”

“ wh- nO YN ARE YOU CRAZY?”

•he urges you to sit and you do, for a moment you guys are quiet . his hand around you as you watch the moons essence dance and lurch over the water of the lake

•he turns to you, eyes sparkling and hooded as he speaks to you. it’s almost like he’s sending you affection via his eyes

•” i love you, yn”, he starts, turning to you and hand dipping into his coat. “ i think i always have. loved you, been inlove with you, and i know you feel the same. i think that’s the killer ,” he chuckles, holding a box. you know what’s coming . you’re ready. you feel a bump in your throat and affection well up in your chest. “ the fact that you want me, as annoying and fuckin’ childish as i can be sometimes,” he fiddles with the box- embarrassed. you lift his chin to meet your eyes again. you see his brows crease in weakness at your actions. “ i love ya, miya. “

•you pause and you smirk at him like “ miya????” and that’s when he pulls out the box, angling himself into his knees and looking at you.

•” if you’d make me the happiest man on earth and be a miya, that is. “

o miya !

•likes the basics : decorating , some christmas music , likes holding a big christmas dinner with his family ( + tsumu’s partner bcus they’re family now )

• absolutely HAS to make a gingerbread house with u and he will teach u how to make everything from scratch

• u guys are constructing it , slathering on icing to stick the slabs of biscuit together and ur all focused

• he’s wearing the ‘ kiss me !’ apron that u got him, thick hands gently placing sweets to mimic bushes near the house, his grey eyes are on u the WHOLE time

• he thinks u look so pretty when ur not trying to be

•he’ll say ,” lover” and u look up, he’s just asking “ does this look funny ? the way i placed it?” but he knows it looks wonderful. he just wants u to say it cus it makes him feel fuzzy.

•when it’s done u stand back from it together, his arm around u and ur PROUD cus it’s so cute

•later he takes out some egg nog you two made together, sits down with u and u just chat about the years thats ( nearly ) passed. he’s running his hands up n down ur calves , laughing every so often , nodding , passing sarcastic comments

•it feels very home-y with the soft , jazzy christmas music in the back

•when he tells u about the dinner he’s planning he urges u to invite ur family too, and it’s kinda a big thing 4 u guys

• he was planning on holding it at the shop , since it’d be closed for christmas

•you guys prep together- making the food, planning a seating chart ( “ this feels so fancy, like a wedding ! “ wink wink ), he almost seems stressed.

• when you ask about it, you see his eyes glint softly and he reassures you that he just needs it to be perfect for your guys’ family

•so the prep goes on normally and he thinks he’s fallen for you all over again with how helpful, positive and over all amazing you are as a team

•the day comes and in the morning you guys unwrap the gifts you’ve gotten for eachother, and he seems spacy as HELL

• again, when asked about it he says he’s just thinking about the dinner

•so you show up to the restaurant and the families are THERE . shits getting real and you’re hella nervy

•him and atsumu are being absolutely chaotic- it’s so entertaining lol

•” AAAAA SAMU CMERE!! GIMME SOME SUGAR !!!”

“ tSUMU STOP TOUCHIN ME YA DAMN ANIMAL YER COVERED IN SNOW.”

•rest of the night consists of their grandma saying how pretty / handsome / good looking u are 😔

• at some point samu stands on a table and dings his glass with a fork , and ur kinda confused but ur smiling heavily at his durpy expression

• you can tell he’s had one too many beers- but you don’t stop him , he looks happy and he’s probably gonna say something sappy

�� he starts speaking and throws his cap to the ground as he starts ,” family , friends , merry christmas,” he says, earning a ripple of claps from your loved ones and his. you cheer, and he smiles at you- his gaze doesn’t move as he continues. “ christmas has different meanings for everyone, but for me, i use it to be close to people i love. people that mean something- everything to me. “

• his arm raises to gesture to you, and your face is flushed red, “ my partner , yn, we’ve been dating since college. that’s , what? , 8 years ? and today i’m ending that.” his words cause your stomach to drop and tsumu looks up at him - confused and almost angry- looking. osamu only chuckles.

• you feel like you’re gonna fucking cry

• he steps down from the table , “ yn ln, i don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore,” he walks closer and you can tell that your family is becoming restless, tension beading up in the air and threatening to crush you.

• the man pulls something from his pocket , and before you know it hes on his knee. the room is full of gasps, cheers, mutters of ‘ oh my god!’ ,’ someone record !’ as he opens the box. a ring.

•” baby, “ he says, goofy smile on his face ,” can i be your husband instead?”

• everyone is SCREAMING.

• tsumu is crying , your mother is crying , YOURE FUCKING CRYING

• you nod your head and he picks u up, spinning you around and kissing u

•the ring is a perfect fit , and amongst all the screams he whispers ,” fits like a glove . just like us. forever .”

•now yk why he was so stressed out😔

k sakusa !

•he wants this to b over wdym

• he hates how busy and bustling everything gets, and to make matters worse his s/o wants to decorate the whole damn house. which means that they have to go out and get the deco.

•he’s all masked up and ready, n you prance out the room wearing a cute little christmas outfit. he’s pretending he dgaf but he’s smiling so hard behind his mask

•you guys get driving n you’re chatting up a storm, “ omi, do you think we should have a colour scheme ?” , “ ooo baby, what if we got a white tree hm?” , “ AHH OMI LOOK A SNOWWW MAANNN!!”

•he’s just smiling at you cus stfu ur such a sweet little baby

•when u get to the shop ur going so feral cus there’s everything u want n more

•u start with lights , then tinsel, little spray on snow for ur pretty glass doors at home, a couple reefs , some candles

• he keeps complaining about how cluttered the house is gonna be , but you’re shushing him and telling him it’ll be just fine

•so when it comes time to pick a tree , you make him pick

•he’s holding your hand, fingers laced and whenever he sees a pretty one he tugs on your fingers

• you hum a, ‘ ‘s your choice , omi ‘ and he groans because WHY CANT U CHOOSE

• he eventually comes across a tall, dark green tree and ur very pleased with him

• so u take it home, blah blah unpack blah

• DECORATING TIME

• u switch on some of that corny music he hates and when he’s walking up to you , you take his hands

• bro is confused until you start swaying , your hands finding his waist and his lacing behind your neck

•he’s blushing profusely, muttering how ,” i can’t believe you’re forcing me to slow dance to this bullshit “

•he allows you to though, and he can’t help the big grin on his face when you attempt to twirl him, when he dips you and especially when you draw him in real close

• you mutter the words of the song against his lips, and all of a sudden nothing matters. not the festive, the decorations, the world. it’s just you two- exactly how he likes it.

• the song fades away and you two stand like that for a bit , his lips pressing ghostly, gentle kisses onto the warm skin of your cheeks

• the decorating eventually starts 😔😔

•it starts fine

• but it doesn’t end fine

• the first annoyance was the needles getting everywhere and him complaining about it

•but you ignored it and he got over himself

•you’re placing the bobbles everywhere and you start ducking behind the tree whenever he glances at you

•he’s like ?? the fuck but you keep doing it and giggling . he feels challenged in his soul

•” i can see you, yn,” he says . you don’t reply , just going into the opposite side of the tree where you’re no longer in his line of sight

•he has an idea , and sneaks onto that side. he’s confused

• you’re not there

• before he can turn around , a loud THWACK is heard and a pillow is in his face

•you’ve done it now.

• he scoffs, tackling you into the carpeted floor of your luxurious house. he’s tickling your sides , your giggles and pleas music to his ears. his smile reaches those same ears - as he laughs he’s teasing you. “ you think you can whack me and get away with it, huh? huh??”

•you’re shaking your head vigorously, apologizing but he only tickles more and blows raspberries onto your neck. even he’s laughing uncontrollably now, your legs around his waist in attempt to push him a way

• he only stops when he sees tears form in your shiny eyes, pulling back. he breathes deeply, muttering about what a brat you are.

• his first mistake is turning his back to you, his second is not guarding his sides.

• you jump onto him, small fingers poking him and drawing a loud, girly yelp from kiyoomi. before he knows it he’s on the floor, begging for mercy as you tickling his sides- his neck- every part of him you can touch. his feverish giggles and attempts to grab your fast hands make you smile

•” yn- yN- PPPLLEEEAAASE OHMYGOD STOP EHATAGAHAHAHAHAHA”

“ hmmm? what was that omi ??”

“ sTOOOPPHAHAHSHHAHAH”

•this is the first time you’ve ever seen him giggle so much.

• eventually you stop . and hes catching his breath on the floor

• absolutely red in the face. hes gone.

•he comes up behind you and you’re ready to throw hands again, but he stops you and raises his hands in surrender. “ we need to put up the star, neither of us are tall enough. i was gonna put you on my shoulders,” he laughs airily ,” unless you wanna carry me?”

• you shake your head, and he hoists you up on his broad shoulders. you position he star and he’s looking up to watch your expression

•you pat his mop of curls when you’re done, he smiles, bringing you down. he has to fight the urge to tickle you again when your wide smile etches into his brain again

• you step back from your work. you huff happily

• omi is just watching from the counter . he thinks ur so cute tbh

• later in the night, it’s quiet . no music, no volley ball matches in the background, just silence.

• you’re laying next to eachother with dimmed lights filling the room, the blankets are disheveled and your eyelids are heavy

•he glances over , and when he sees youre awake he rolls to meet your gaze

• he stares at you, eyes flitting over your features for a moment

• “ i love you, yn” he mutters softly

•you smile like an absolute goof and for a sec he feels his throat close up

• his mind is flooded with love, affirmations of his love for you, just you in his head on repeat

•” i love you, omi,” you say, brushing his overgrown fringe from his eyes and placing a kiss to his forehead

• glossy, black eyes meet yours and there’s another beat of silence. when he speaks its barely even audible- you think you hear him wrong when he does

• “ marry me , baby”

•you blink for a second. you know for a fact he didn’t just say that

• “ please, if we don’t get married i’m never gonna recover,”

•something about the way he says ‘ please’, the sincerity and emotion lacing his voice as he speaks - its so special. something you’ve never seen from omi.

• you kiss him. a kiss that’s soft, but it’s meaningful. his eyebrows knit together as his hands find solace on the curve of your hip.

• “ i’ll marry you, omi.”

• he smiles

• he’s never quite loved anyone the way he’s loved you before

• best early christmas gift ever

raines thots ୨♡୧

WAAAHH ITS FINALLY DONSIES!! i’m so proud of this!! i rly liked omi’s and kuroo’s !!! also why is omi’s dub voice so ugly i wanna cry. n e ways OH EM GEE TY FOR ALL THE LOVE ??? ily all . bYE MWAHHH<33

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