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gracieheartspedro · 10 days ago

Text

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep.

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you.

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar.

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos.

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot.

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you.

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often.

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance.

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification.

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again.

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel.

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome.

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not.

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic.

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed.

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked.

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do.

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you.

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in.

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year.

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left.

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him.

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing.

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection.

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you.

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night.

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now.

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed.

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified.

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something. He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town.

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.”

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms.

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle.

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter.

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy.

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across.

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..."

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him.

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you.

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you.

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly.

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful.

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him.

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him.

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.”

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it.

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him.

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over.

“Whatever, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live.

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them.

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen.

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move.

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer.

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time.

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor.

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond.

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking.

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard.

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning.

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word.

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here.

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him.

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt.

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals.

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off.

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water.

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud.

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest.

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore.

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point?

His body was on fire, thinking about you.

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you.

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud.

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!”

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy.

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?”

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing.

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates.

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused.

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences.

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you.

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies.

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first.

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful.

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back.

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time.

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way.

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans.

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body.

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance.

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then.

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan.

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter.

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core.

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself.

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming.

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress.

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance.

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his.

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight.

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming.

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes.

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half.

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him.

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile.

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring.

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself.

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking.

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to.

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose.

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #tlou au #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: for cryin’ out loud #the last of us smut #gracieheartspedro

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chestersturniolo · 1 month ago

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“so you miss me when you’re tipsy, huh?”

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

In which; you drunk dial your best friend Chris

part two here

⋆·˚ ༘ * ⋆·˚ ༘

You were out with your friends, the music loud and the warmth of alcohol rushing through your body. It felt good to let loose after a long week, the kind of carefree night that made the world seem light and weightless. You leaned back against the booth, watching your friends dance and shout, but your mind drifted elsewhere. Your best friend Chris. He wasn’t there tonight, and you found yourself missing him.

Ypu pulled yourself up and made your way to the back of the club, once you’re stood in the quieter corridor, leading to the restrooms you sighed, pulling out your phone. It felt like a good idea—no, a great idea—to call him right now. You fumbled to unlock the screen, quickly finding his contact

The phone rang, and you held your breath until his familiar voice came through the other end

“Hey” he chirped

“Chrisssssss!” you screech, slurring slightly

“What’s up, kid? You drunk-dialing me?”

You smiled instantly. “Mayyybe-” you say, leaning back against the wall. “-what are you doing?”

“Not getting trashed, apparently” he teased. “Where you at?”

“Out with the girls. But, like, all I’m thinking about is how much more fun this would be if you were here”

He let out a laugh. “Ah, so you miss me when you’re tipsy, huh? Classic”

“Chris, I always miss you-“ you say rolling your eyes “-I mean, who else can make me laugh at dumb stuff like you do?”

“You sayin’ I’m dumb now?” he says with fake offence

“Maybe” you teased, a grin tugging at your lips. “But in a cute way”

There was a pause, and you could almost picture the smirk on his face. “You’re gonna regret all this sweet talk tomorrow, you know that, right?”

“I’ll just blame it on the tequila-“ you joked “-but seriouslyyy, why aren’t you here?!”

“You didn’t invite me, genius-” he shot back, still amused. “-plus, you sound like you’re having a blast without me”

you sigh “Yeah i am i guess, but i jus wanted to talk to you”

There was a brief silence, and you could tell he was trying to figure out if you were being serious or just tipsy-sentimental.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “I always got time for you ma”

You smile “Yeah…yeah you do-” you muttered, it was true, Chris always had time for you, and if he didn’t, he would make time. He has been there for you, for quite lliterally anything and everything. “-you’re the besttt”

“Mm-hm, you better remember that when you’re sober…and hey, if you need me to come drag your drunk ass out of there later,I’m just a call away”

You laughed. “I’m fine, I swear. Just wanted to say hi”

“Uh-huh. You sure this ain’t one of those calls where you tell me how much you love me?” he teased.

“You wish!” you scoff , letting out an obnoxious drunk laugh, before pausing “-wait, i do love you, but i’m not telling you that!”

Chris lets out a chuckle at your oblivious statement. muttering “love ya too, kid” under his breath.

“Chris can i stay at your house tonight? Pleaaasse” you whine

“Of course, you know you don’t have to ask” he says sincerely

And it’s true, Chris had told you multiple times before that you could sleepover whenever you like, even clearing out one of his drawers, stocking it with everything you could possibly need, deodorant,makeup wipes, feminine products, your favourite cleanser, toothbrushes, the list went on. He surprised you with it one day and you nearly fell to your knees at how cute you found it.

“Go have fun with your friends, sweetheart. Be careful n keep your phone close—i’ll be checking in okay?”

you nod as if he could see you “Okay, i’ll see you later”

“i’ll be waiting” he says in a soft tone

you smile to yourself as you hang up the phone, and with that, you walk back into the main area, joining your friends on the dance floor, your heart a little lighter, a little happier, knowing that soon enough, you’d be curled up with chris.

⋆·˚ ༘ * ⋆·˚ ༘

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274 @yn-ws

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff

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lovifie · 6 months ago

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Price and his lovely caddy girl. 🏌🏻‍♂️

Smut | 896 words | Back to masterlist

Every time that Price has free time, he plays golf.

He picked up the sports a while back, when during rehabilitation after a special shitty injury his doctor recommended light walks.

So he started to play. Sundays in the morning until noon, then a pint, then home.

It was nothing more than doctor's orders at first.

But then he met you.

The little caddy girl with dangerously short skirts and a sharp tongue to get the juiciest tips.

That's what he thought it was at first, that you were just doing his job.

He felt perverted on the way he would look at your young body, how his eyes would lay on your pink lips when you bite your nail. How he wished to slide his-

“Mr. Price.” Your sweet voice draws him out of his trance.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks in a beat, seeing how your face lightens at the nicknames.

“It's your turn.” You say, pointing with your head to the ball. “Which club?”

“Whichever you think is best.” He says, handing you the one he had on his hand from the last hit.

“Hmm… letting me choose, Mr. Price? What a privilege!” You exclaim, walking the couple of steps back to the cart. Leaning over the seat to pick the club.

And Price's shameless eyes roam the back of your legs all the way up to your cheeks spiking from the skirt.

“How about this one?” You say, pulling it from the bag and handing it to him. “I'm sure you'll get it in… the ball, I mean.”

He shakes his head, taking the club and getting in position. Slightly swinging his hips as he gets the motion, hitting the ball swiftly but too soft to actually reach the hole.

“Aw, Mr. Price… I expected better aim from the military…” You say, a teasing pout on your face as you look up at him, using your hand to cover your eyes from the sun.

“My aim is perfect, mind you, little minx.” He says, walking to the cart to grab a water bottle.

You skip after him, a mischievous chuckle leaving your mouth. “You call that ‘good aim’? I’m sorry for your lovers, Mr. Price.”

“Oh, shut up!” Price exclaims, making you laugh again. “All my ‘lovers’ are perfectly happy with my aim.”

You hummed, satisfied with the raise you got out of him. “I bet they are.”

Price scoffs, looking at you; checking your face for any joke hidden in your features.

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

“Maybe I do”

And maybe Price thought he was perverted, but if you are just as filthy as him… what's the damage?

That's how you found the two of you hiding in the maintenance closet back at the resort, with you squatting down and with Price rolling his cock deep into your mouth.

“Fuck… just like that, sweetheart… suck on it like the good girl you are, fuck!” He lets his head drop back, his hands keeping your head in place as he slowly slides his cock deeper and deeper, hitting the back of your throat with ease. The lewd noise filling the small space. “I bet you are fucking soaked, aren't ya? Hm? Play with your little cunt, love, let me hear how fucking wet you are…”

You move your hand under your skirt, pulling it up and sliding your hand inside your underwear. And the moment you peel your lips apart, the sound of your juices gets to Price's ear, urging him to fuck your throat faster.

“Just like that, darling… fuck your pretty little cunt while I fuck your mouth… such a good girl, letting me do what I please with you… Look at you… so fucking pretty…” You look at his eyes, seeing the hungry stare on his face, making you clench around your own fingers. You feel his thick digits dig into your skull, making you wish so badly that it was his fingers inside of you.

“C’mon, pretty girl… make yourself cum… let me feel you moan around my dick, yeah, just like that… such a good fucking girl.” His thrust emphasises every word, making your eyes tear as your spit rolls down your chin.

And it's the way he is talking you through it, how he slows down his pace to keep himself from cumming, making sure you do first, making sure you follow his orders. But he still holds your head so dearly, his thumbs caressing your head as if his dick wasn't bruising the back of your throat.

But it's the promise of what will come after this, after today, that has you spilling over the edge, soaking your hand and underwear, and your throat clenching around his lengths.

He cums so deep into your throat that you only manage to get the taste on his way out, making sure to clean his shaft sucking him in just for a second making him hiss. You let it go with a sonorous pop, and sit back on your feet taking your hand out.

He stands in front of you, an intimidating 6ft man, wide and strong, looking down at you as you kneel between his feet. Your chin wet from the spit of sucking him off and the little mischievous smile still on your face.

“I think I just developed a new kind of appreciation for golf."

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koishiro · 7 months ago

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# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Kento Nanami

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

Satoru Gojo

Gojo has no shame, you should know this. It’s no surprise to anyone when they see the jujutsu teacher just waltz over in his usual long strides and (quite aggressively) places his head on your lap. And if you ignore him? Ohohoho he’d be a menace. From nudging his head on your stomach, to biting the soft plush of your thighs, all for you to run your fingers through his hair.

He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.

“Satu, I have to get up”

“‘M? Later”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“They can wait”

Suguru Geto

Suguru would be slightly more subtle than Gojo, but still pretty affectionate. You’d often find him reading a book or two later followed by a complaint of how stiff and achy his back and neck were which led you to now, sitting down on your shared couch and contentedly scrolling through your phone until you felt an unfamiliar weight weigh down on your lap.

Temporarily turning your attention to the man now taking place on your lap, a book in one hand while the other absentmindedly toyed with the fabric of your shirt, you stared at him for a moment until your burning gaze tore his attention away from his book, as if you were the one to invade his personal bubble.

“Hm? Yes darling? Are you not considering the pain and backache I’ve been going through for this book? Have some sympathy, I thought this would be better for my posture.”

Yuji Itadori

This boy would be so oblivious, not even realising the effect he had on you. He would be in the middle of talking about Human Earthworm 4 and would first start to lean his body weight on your shoulder before gradually moving down to your lap, even going as far as to readjust you and your position just like a pillow.

It would only occur to him what position he’s actually in when his one sided conversation starts to die off, now realising how his head and hands are tucked between your plush thighs - skin on skin contact.

“O-Oh uhm - I’m so sorry!

Megumi Fushiguro

Don’t expect this to ever happen in public but in the privacy of your own home? Megumi would be severely more touchy when he’s tired so when he’s exhausted? He’ll have no shame. Dragging his feet through the threshold of his dorm, his bag being dragged not too far behind he makes a beeline towards his bed where the outline of non other than his lover was hidden beneath the covers.

Leaving his bag behind, Megumi navigates his way towards the warmth of your body before toeing off his shoes and slipping his way between your legs, arms tucked beneath the plush of your thighs. Asking about his day you had to strain your ears to hear his response

“‘missed you. Wanted to come home earlier but Gojo was an ass. R’lly missed your warmth.”

Toji Fushiguro

This man has no shame. If you’d be sitting a centimetre too far for his liking you best know he’s gonna clamp his large hands down on you and drag you to where he likes. He’d even go as far as to lift your legs over his own thighs and (like a cat) paw at the skin of your thighs.

So when you happen to pass by his chair while he’s in the middle of a slightly less than exciting conversation he was having with a name he couldn’t even remember of course his first instinct is to reach out and pull you down, caging you between his two arms - his hands nicely warmed between your two thighs before they ventured and groped at any available skin.

“Stay nice ‘n pretty f’me kay? Don’t wanna make this guy uncomfortable do ya? ‘N keep your pretty mewls to yaself until we get home hm?”

Toge Inumaki

Bby boy just wants to be comforted okay? Is that too much to ask for? He’d already be so comfortable around you that he wouldn’t think twice about what he was doing.

You both could be lying down outside, one or both reading a book and after a while of resting in the same spot for hours on end he’d struggle to find a comfortable spot and the next best thing to a patch of grass? His lover of course. Toge would slowly shift his way towards you so you’d end up as a mesh of bodies resembling a ‘T’. A few squeezes to your thighs every now and then followed by a series of onigri ingredients,

“I should do this more often, you’re much more comfy than any pillow I’ve owned. My own portable neck pillow.”

Kento Nanami

This wouldn’t happen often at the start of your relationship with Kento considering he’s never had to (quite literally) lean on anyone before but it never bothered you, you knew before you threw yourself into the relationship that he’d take some time to warm up and you were right because slowly after months of quick pecks and fleeting touches - the unfamiliar weight of your boyfriends head leaned on your shoulder. The tired eyes and dark bags beneath his eyes said all you needed to know.

“Tired?” With a grunt of agreement, clearly too tired to even lift his head, you lead him down to rest on your lap where he stayed without complaint until hours later when the sun shone through the living room curtains and the blanket you managed to reach and place over top you both before swiftly joining him lay on the floor long forgotten. Nanami would all but bury his face deeper between your thighs - chasing the warmth they emanated while his hands found closure beneath them.

“Please, don’t move. At least not yet.”

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hansensgirl · 10 months ago

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summary. | Your father’s friend just wants you to relax for once.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + Dad’s Best Friend + “You have no idea what you do to a woman like me.” + Creampie, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!dad’s best friend!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, coercion, age gap, dad’s best friend, Mommy kink, drinking/forced drinking, rough sex, strapping, use of squirting strap, pet names, dirty talk, mild dumbification, praise, mentions of female oral, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

Natasha’s strap-on strokes your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot within you. She holds your arms above your head by your wrists, and you marvel at her strength.

Your tits bounce with her powerful thrusts, pathetic moans leaving your parted lips and filling the room. Your pornographic noises drown out the sound of skin on skin, but you’re still a victim of the older woman’s filthy words.

“Look at ya—you’re a mess, baby,�� Natasha coos, admiring the fucked-out look on your face. She watches as your eyes roll back into your head when she grinds her cock into you, giving your clit some friction. “You needed this badly, huh? Just needed Mommy to fuck you.”

Absentmindedly, you nod your head.

But it’s true—you’re always so on edge and straitlaced. Natasha—your father’s friend—believed you needed a good fucking to loosen you up. Along with much alcohol, which she gladly supplied you with until you were incoherent.

“Uh-huh!” you babble, keeping your legs spread so that she can better spear into you. Your head swims under the waves of wine and arousal, desire bubbling to the surface with the euphoria that bursts in your body. She loves you like this.

Natasha chuckles at how she has basically fucked you stupid.

It didn’t take much to get you like this—writhing on the bed in the guest room she always occupies whenever she’s in town. Just some heavy petting, and you were gone—pliant under the older woman’s touch. At times, you mumbled refusals, but once she got your clothes off, you were everything she has dreamed of.

Natasha reaches a thumb down to your clit, and she rubs the swollen pearl, making you cry out. “Oh– ’M gonna come,” you mewl, staring up at her as you focus on the ascension of your climax.

The pressure within you builds and builds, intense and breath-taking. Your moans are loud, and Natasha is glad she made sure no one would be home. She thrusts in and out of you with vigour, determined to get you to come around her dick.

“You gonna come on Mommy’s cock, baby? Hm? Gonna soak it like a good girl?” she asks, adding fuel to the fire that is your orgasm. You nod rapidly, and she smirks. “Go ahead, then. Come for Mommy,” Natasha tells you.

On her command, you come undone. Your cunt squeezes your father’s friend’s strap as you coat it in your cream. You cry out her name and dig your nails into your skin, leaving crescent-shaped scars in their wake.

The pleasure is too much—you haven’t felt anything like this before. Natasha fucks you through your climax, even when you become overstimulated and weakly beg her to give you a break. She keeps rubbing your clit until she deems you’ve had enough.

The older woman reaches down to her strap and grabs at the fake balls, ready to give you a surprise you’ll have to remember the following day.

“Mommy’s gonna fill you up, baby,” she whispers, slowing down the movements of her hips. Your brows furrow in confusion, but in your haze, you don’t question her words too much. All you can think about is getting fucked. “Gonna dump a load in this tight cunt—fill ‘er up ‘til you’re begging me for more.”

Natasha squeezes, and you feel thick, sticky liquid spurting inside you. It coats your walls, and the odd sensation is welcomed. Just as she said, she fills you up with the ‘cum’ until it leaks past her fake cock, dripping down your ass and onto the sheets.

“You have no idea what you do to a woman like me,” she smirks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. She is more than satisfied when she tastes herself and the wine on your mouth.

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moneyndior · 3 months ago

Text

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ hold my hand until we turn to ashes. ⋄ 𓍯

...IN WHICH—your boyfriend gets sappy before he falls asleep.

tags/warnings: fem!reader, kissing, cuddling, fluff, talk of marriage, leo being bf material (as usual!), i wrote this and posted it (IDGAF ANYMORE!!!). no proofreading, WE DIE LIKE JASON.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ tumblr i’m gonna kms

—

"leo, please."

"can i not voice my love for my beautiful, gorgeous, wife?"

"wife?"

you repeated, a small snicker leaving your lips as you tilt your head to the side.

leo was resting his head on your chest, this was one of the few ways he found himself comfortable enough to sleep. especially when you played with his hair like this.

one of his curls were wrapped around your finger, something you did every couple minutes of scratching his scalp. a small hum would leave his throat each time you did this.

he always found joy in the smaller things you did for him.

"damn right, 'wife.' i'm gonna give you the best ring olympus has ever seen."

leo muttered, his voice growing quieter as he started to mumble over his words. his hold on you tightened, his arms were meticulously wrapped around your waist.

you giggled as you rubbed his back now, hand moved from his head.

"the best ring, hm?"

"i'll make it myself, that way nobody has the same."

"better start soon."

you teased, a small grin on your face by now. leo's tired mumbling was getting to the point where it was just him audibly day dreaming.

although, it was nice to hear of a glimpse into your future.

"i already have ideas."

"do you, now?"

"i’d be stupid if i didn't. you'd be the bestest and prettiest wife."

he continued to dream out loud, a small sigh leaving his lips. leo always wanted to be loved the way you loved him.

i mean, this type of affection was foreign to him. having someone hold him like he was glass instead of punching him, having someone bicker with him lightly instead of insulting him—it was outer-wordly.

you loved him like how he should be loved.

leo would put the sun in the sky personally for you as long as you continued to be yourself and love him like this.

"and you'd be the best husband."

"ya think?"

"I know. the bestest and prettiest husband ever."

leo held back on giggling like a schoolgirl. you made him feel so special, and that's all he asked for.

the bestest and prettiest husband and wife. that was his prophecy.

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #HoO x reader #leo valdez drabble #leo valdez blurb

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amor-ad-nauseam · 4 months ago

Text

Somethin’ stupid

Pairings: Sam Winchester X reader

Summary: You get hurt on a hunt and in taking care of you, Sam reveals a hidden talent and maybe even some hidden feelings…

Word count: 2.1k

Tags; Sam and reader have a crush on each other, fluff, no use of y/n, Sam x fem!reader, carheartt!Sam

Requests are open

part two

You never realized just how cold it got in Montana until you were here, wrapped up in Sam’s carheartt with his hands on your waist.

Well, one of his hands was on your waist, the other was digging through the pocket of his jacket for the motel room key.

“Sorry,” Sam chuckled awkwardly as his hand accidentally brushed over the small gap of exposed skin between your jeans and top.

This is definitely not what you had imagined when you envisioned his hands on you.

“It’s fine, really,” you replied with that sweet consideration he adored.

His left hand fumbles uselessly between the two of you- desperately searching for the key. He was embarrassed, beyond embarrassed. You had gotten injured-stabbed in the thigh on a hunt when he should’ve been protecting you. On top of all of that now he now has you out in the cold because he can’t find a damn key.

He eventually manages to get the key between his fingers but much to his dismay he couldn’t quite manage to pull it from the pocket due to the precarious position the two of you were in: Your left arm swung around his shoulder, his right hand on your waist and his other wedged between the two of you.

Sam was far too kind to let you slip from his grasp, no matter how many times you told him you were fine. So, you take matters into your own hands. “Here, lemme just-“

You shift your weight to your injured leg, giving him just the right amount of room to fish the key out.

His smile of triumph quickly falters once he hears your hiss of pain. He instinctively tightens his grip, reeling you back into him and closing the gap between your bodies; Sending your heart beat racing.

There’s a stillness for the moment. You staring into his eyes and he into yours. Sam couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you looked in this moment. Your normally neat, pulled back hair now wild and lovely with the cool night wind whipping through it. Your cheeks and nose were this beautiful shade of pink from the cold and all he wanted to do was reach out and cup your divine face in his hands.

“Sam,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. You never realized just how much green was in those pretty hazel eyes.

He tries to speak but not a thought -well, not a thought aside from professing his love(which he thought to be a terrible idea)- comes to mind.

Instead he blinks, searching your face for something- anything. Even a slight muscle twitch that would let him in on what you were thinking.

“The door.”

“Right,” he nods, clearing his throat and breaking the moment. He felt so stupid.

As the key turns in the lock you mentally curse yourself. Why the hell did you say that? That was the worst thing you could’ve possibly said.

He helps you limp your way into the motel room, the whole time not daring to look at you. And you do the same.

“Come on, there ya go, atta girl.” Sam grunted, gently setting you down on the bed.

Aside from your royal fuck up a minute ago, maybe this whole thing (getting stabbed included) wasn’t too bad. After all, you did get to hear sam say “atta girl” and if you were being honest, you liked it.

While Sam went to go dig out the med kit from his duffle bag you found yourself zoned out staring at his muscular frame. His hair, god it was perfect. Whose hair looks that good after spending the better half of the night in an abandoned building? It was practically witchcraft.

“Last time we let Dean pick the motel,” Sam chuckled.

“Hm?” You questioned, Sam’s voice snapping you from your train of thought.

“The whole uh, “Wild West” theme,” He smiles, gesturing to a cowboy hat hung just past his head.

“Right,” you chuckle dryly. “Definitely not letting him pick again.” You hadn’t really noticed the room; you were a bit preoccupied.

“I mean seriously,” Sam said, sitting next to you. “Where’d they get all this stuff? Cowboy furnishings?”

You giggle at Sam’s joke and lay your leg in his lap. Wine colored blood had pooled at the epicenter of the make-shift bandage (the torn sleeve of Deans FBI suit.)

The room was just large enough to comfortably accommodate two queen sized beds, separated by a thin wooden divider. On the far end of the room there was a pull-out couch with a cowboy hat pattern dancing across the leather; that same pattern reflected on the small sofa chair across from the head of your bed.

“Wild West express?” You reply while looking around the room- not wanting to lay eyes on that nasty wound. Sam chuckled and you somehow find yourself right back where you started- staring straight at him. God, he was a sight for sore eyes. His smile was enchanting.

The room had this homely atmosphere, whether that was due to Sam’s presence or the warm lighting was a mystery to you. The lights seemed to perfectly reflect on his face, illuminating those stunning hazel eyes and giving his skin a warm honey glow.

While Sam worked on disinfecting your wound he replayed the scene over and over again in his head. You were right there, mere feet from him and yet you still got hurt. Sure you’ve been banged up worse, not to mention the other bruises all three of you sustained on this hunt alone. But this time, this time was different. You’d need stitches, the stab was a few inches deep and wide with jagged edges. He cringes as he threads the needle. This was his fault.

His eyes snap to your face after the first nonevent of the needle through your skin. Your jaw was clenched tight, eyes large and pointed toward the ceiling, attempting to breathe through the pain. Guilt fills him at the very sight.

“Should’ve drank.” You grunt out, your hand balling into a fist as your eyes squeeze as tight as a camera shutter. Your head falls forward, your wind-whipped hair forming a curtain over the sides of your face. Even in pain, somehow, Sam thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen all wrapped up in a brown carheartt.

“Almost done.” He says gently, tying a knot and cutting the thread.

You let out a hefty breath, throwing your head back against the bed frame and sinking into the mattress with relief.

Sam’s hand slips to the underside of your knee, gently raising it. “God-“ he breaths, the new angle allowing him a better veiw of just how bad it was. “If I was there I could’ve-“ he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head in a dog-like manner of confusion. “What? Sam, this isn’t your fault.”

The pain had mostly subsided, fading to a feeling of dull pressure - more uncomfortable than anything really.

“Regardless. You got hurt on my watch.”

“Sam, c’mon. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you frowned. He was too sweet for his own good.

The both of you knew this was a losing battle. You had this conversation a dozen times over during the car ride alone.

Sam goes back to silently wrapping your thigh in gauze while you decide to let your eyes wander around the room. Eventually you land on a wooden guitar propped up against the sofa chair right across from you.

You gasp and before Sam knows it you’re on your feet foot, the roll of gauze dangling from your thigh.

“What are you-“ he calls your name in an exasperated manner. “I wasn’t-“

You spin on your heels and reveal yourself to be holding a guitar with a beaming smile on your face.

“Oh no- oh no no no no.” Sam shakes his head.

“Pleaseeeee,” you beg, giving him the most puppy-dog eyed look you can muster.

“That’s not going to work on me,” he grins. “Now c’mon, sit.” He pats the space next to him and reaches out to take your hand. “Gotta finish patchin’ you up.”

You fold your arms over your chest with smugness he knew all too well. “That’s not gonna work on me,” you replied, looking from him to the guitar.

“Dude, I haven’t played since like, college.” His hand falls limply to his lap with a sigh. “Now c’mere before you make me regret ever getting drunk around you.” Sam attempts to make his voice sound serious but fails to hide the smile on his face and the amusement in his voice.

“Oh please,” you said through laughter at his expression. He looked adorable trying to be serious. “Just one song.”

Your laughter, it was contagious. Being around you was like the best high. “No.”He laughs, and he doesn’t even know why. “Okay, okay, how bout this?” He adjusts his position a little, trying to shove down the laughter. “You let me finish bandaging you up and I’ll play one, and I mean one, song?”

“Orrrrr, you play a song and I’ll let you bandage me up.”

“You can’t be serious. y’know you run the risk of infection the longer you don’t let me wrap it?”

“Then you better get to playing guitar-boy”

You smile and simply hold out the guitar to him.

Slowly, a scheming grin spreads on his lips, his large hand grabs the guitar and your wrist in one fail swoop. He attempts to get you seated back on the bed again but you’re too quick.

“Ha! Not gonna get me that easy!”

You giggle as you slip from his grasp. He watches as you run off do this weird limp-hopping thing off into the bathroom, the unfinished gauze swinging from your leg like a pendulum.

If he really wanted, he could easily stop you but he was more interested in seeing where this would go.

A few years ago, while Dean was off flirting with the bartender, you and Sam were in the back of the bar like a couple of wall flowers.

That’s the night you started to look at him differently, to feel things for him differently. That’s the night you started to like him; and it only grew from there. Admittedly, you both had a bit too much to drink. You told each other things nobody else knew. During the conversation he talked about his college days; how he smoked weed a few times (you couldn’t stop laughing at this) and played guitar like a proper hippie. (This also, much to his dismay, made you erupt into drunken laughter).

“You alright in there?” Sam calls from the room.

“Y-yeah! I’m good.” You shout back. You quickly tie off the end of the bandage and waltz back into the room only to discover Sam in the sofa chair, guitar in his lap.

You press your hand to your chest and make a show of having an aghast expression. “Is that what I think it is? Sam Winchester! Strumming the guitar?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m just tuning it is all.”

“Uh huh,” you reply, packing up the first aid kit.

Sam’s fingers work the strings of the guitar, playing around with a few notes here and there, tuning, plucking strings. But at the playing of a few specific chords, your ears perk up in recognition.

You immediately race limp-jog? Over to the bed and perch yourself upon the edge. Sam smiles at your eager face.

“I figured one of us outta hold up our end of the deal.”

You just smile and shake your head.

And there you were. Staring into Sam’s eyes, doing a mixture of humming and singing along while he played your favorite song on guitar.

“…hmm hm hm… we pop into a quiet place and have a drink or two…”

He would hum and sing along with you, a slight hesitation every time the main part of the chorus would appear.

“…But then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like-“

As if the lyric held far too much weight to sing.

“I love you…”

Eventually, you began to drift off. Sinatra always put you to sleep. He knew that. Sam’s eyes don’t leave you for a moment. You were reveire incarnate. Half asleep, head on a pillow and lazily humming along.

“…But then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like…”

Your chest slowly rose and fell with every soft slumbering breath. Warm lighting over your skin. Tranquil and mesmerizing as a sunset.

The lyrics come out a statement more than anything else. A truthful, unsung whisper.

“I love you.”

#supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #reader insert #dean winchester x reader #reader fanfiction #one shot #supernatural fic #fem reader #supernatural one shot

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ryescapades · 3 months ago

Note

Hii! Can I have a request for Soshiro Hoshina with fem reader? They're both childhood friends, Soshiro as a kid made a promise that he would marry reader when they both grow up.

As they grew up as adult, both promoted in third division. Reader thinks Soshiro would forget their childhood promises and thinks it just a puppy crush, but Soshiro really mean it and fall for her as well.

sweetheart | hoshina soshiro

genre/warning: fem!reader, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, hint of angst but it's not heavy at all, reader is lowkey a little dense lol, there's like one curse word i think, not sure if i characterised hoshina correctly in this one hm a/n: kinda long fic below! listening to my fav mafiyami playlist while i'm writing this teehee also i'm bad at writing smooching scenes so don't mind me writing the bare minimum

"soshiro, i heard from your father that you want to work in the defense force... is that right?" seven year old you had asked one day when you were lounging at one of the many engawa's in the hoshina's family estate.

"oh, that! yeah, i'm gonna grow up and become an officer in the defense force! the coolest of them all, in fact!" soshiro, your best friend boasted as he threw you a wide grin. you frowned, feeling your imaginative ears drooping slightly, "but is it not scary though? what if you die fightin' the monsters? you're gonna leave me alone that way,"

soshiro's grin dropped, a pensive look marring his round, chubby-cheeked face. his little mind did quite the thinking before he turned to look at you, eyes bright and sparkling. "if so, let's get married."

you had choked on your saliva, thinking your little admiration for him had been exposed somehow. "w-what do you mean get married?!" soshiro only looked at you with a certain look, as if the answer wasn't obvious already. "well if i'm goin' to die anyways, shouldn't we be spendin' all the time we have together? that's the easier way, right?"

the way he said it sounded so simple, like learning the alphabets or understanding the sky is blue. be with him until he dies, that's what you'd understood and it did not sit well with you, so you declared, "then i want to become an officer together with you! if you die, i die!"

at that, soshiro's grin returned. "so it's settled then." you gave him a smile as a response before feigning a pout, "but you better not forget about it when we're old enough though!"

"yes, yes, i won't. i promise i'm goin' to marry ya when we grow up!"

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

promises are meant to be broken.

at least, that's what you'd grown to believe now that you're an adult with a respectable yet demanding (and risky) job. promise to hang out with an old friend, only to be cancelled when duty called. promise to try out that one restaurant that was newly opened, only for it to be destroyed in a kaiju attack. promise to change the broken thermostat at your apartment, only to leave it unfixed because you're rarely ever home anyways.

and promise to be married to your childhood best friend when you're older, only for it to be forgotten by said friend.

it's pathetic, really.

why are you the only one falling, the only one whose feelings got more intense as the years went by? sometimes you even struggled with your own emotions, not knowing how to handle yourself around the one who has been in your heart for god knows too long. but knowing that he's there, still close by even to this day, soothed your pain just a little bit.

after being appointed as the third division's vice-captain, you had successfully followed in soshiro's footsteps by being scouted by captain ashiro herself to transfer into the same division, though with your average combat power, you were only at the officer level.

you've been working hard since then, of course. your captain even complimented that if you had asked of her, you could be assigned to the platoon leader position soon enough. not to add soshiro had also occurred the same thing and more, which had you blushing to the tips of your toes.

if anything, being a high-ranked officer in the same division just means being in the vicinity of your crush more often and with how you've been holding on mentally, you don't think you're ready to take on that problem as of yet.

it's not like you and soshiro grew apart. no, gods no. as a matter of fact, you two grew even closer, especially now that you're working in his division. and that's exactly the thing; you can't go a day without thinking about how attractive he looks that day, or how nice his voice is when he talks, how beautifully lethal he becomes while fighting off a kaiju or how good he's been to you the past few years. as if he wasn't when you were still a child.

however, you believe that's only because the two of you have been friends for so long. you know him— or at least you'd like to think that you do. if he holds you in the same regard that you do for him, he'd tell you himself. this is soshiro we're talking about; intuitive, easygoing yet determined soshiro. hence, if he's never brought up about that promise, it's either he all forgot about it or he simply doesn't feel the same for you.

get over this puppy crush first. that way you can fully focus on doing your job if you're ever to become a platoon leader, you think as you finish the last of your training, standing upright to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

you walk over to the shelves, about to put your weapons back in their place when a call of your name startles you. you turn around, eyes wide. "holy shit, soshi- vice captain! don't scare me like that, please. i'm holding dangerous stuff here as you can see," you chastise after seeing your best friend at the door of the training room, gesturing to the weapons in your hands as your heart thuds loudly in your chest, although this time it's not because of the earlier jump scare.

soshiro laughs. "sorry, didn't mean to surprise ya." he says. you roll your eyes playfully before you stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to voice out whatever it is that he's here for but he stays quiet, gazing back at you leisurely with his slanted eyes. you try not to flush under his scrutiny, swiveling back around to eventually put aside your weapons.

"i told ya to call me soshiro when we're alone, right? why the sudden formality?" he starts, voice tinged with a hint of teasing. "well, you are my superior. it's a must to address you properly, no?" you casually brush off. you don't notice the way soshiro's jaw uneasily move at your statement, currently too busy checking the notifications in your phone.

"anyway, are you here to train? i'll pass you the room keys if you are." you say, still not looking at him. when once again he doesn't give an immediate reply, you peer up at him with an eyebrow raised. soshiro then offers you small smile, "walk with me?" he asks instead.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you somehow find yourself going on a stroll with your vice-captain (who's also your best friend and longtime crush) in the street just outside the tachikawa base. "any particular reason why we're out here when i should be inside taking a much needed shower after my workout?" you jokingly ask, staring at the people walking by and nodding politely towards those who greet you.

soshiro gives you a side glance, smiling. "just needed some fresh air." he simple states, making you throw out a skeptical look. "yeah, nice try. if that's the reason, you could've opened the windows in your office. you got a lot of them," you point out, nudging his shoulder which he returns, and now the two of you are having a mini nudging competition until eventually your giggles die down, "no, seriously though. why are we here, soshiro?"

the foxy eyed male exhales a small puff of air before shrugging, "maybe i've been missing you." your head spins to him, eyes blinking a few times, trying to keep your mind from thinking more of what he probably meant by that before you send a smirk his way. "hah! i knew you couldn't live without me bugging you, hm? what are best friends for, right?" you almost grit your teeth, the words feeling like venom in your mouth.

unbeknownst to you, his responding chuckle is almost reluctant. "yeah, you're right." soshiro utters. "apparently the presence of your annoying ass is crucial for me to keep livin'," he sarcastically says, making you jab at his side. "excuse me, you're annoying!" you laugh.

your eyes lock with his crimson ones, and your breath stutters at the soft, almost fond look he's wearing. "w-well, now that i'm here, surely you can go about your incoming days with no trouble!" you play it off, feeling the slight embarrassment creeping up. the fog seems to lift from soshiro's gaze as he faintly shakes his head, his smile now looking all the more cheeky. "uh-huh, i sure hope so."

"yeah, you better be! but don't come crying to me when something minimal inconveniences you or something. i'm just your friend, after all. not your mom."

"....please stop saying that,"

his slow reply had your steps faltering, taken aback. "d-did i... say something wrong?" you stammer in surprise, not expecting him to suddenly sound so... upset?

you catch sight of soshiro's downturned face, "sorry, whatever it is that i said—" you try to apologize but he instantly cuts you off, "right, you kept talkin' like being my friend is a job."

you freeze in your place, "pardon? no! that's not what i meant when i—"

you're about to snap when he interrupts you again but his next words have you recoiling in shock, "did you forget about our promise?" he asks in a low mutter.

wait, what...?

"excuse me?! i thought you had forgotten about it!" you exclaim, genuinely offended.

"i hadn't. i have never. not when—" the violet-haired man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, feeling troubled for a while before he speaks again. "not when you've been such a constant in my life, y/n. you're my one and only best friend, and i've been in love with you my whole life..." he trails off, looking away to the side in agitation.

it's quiet. the park where the two of you have arrived at a few minutes ago is silent, save for the gentle whoosh of the breeze blowing, making the leaves rustle gently around you. however, it's loud in your head. you ears feel deafening. million thoughts are running through your head, overwhelming you all at once.

hoshino soshiro... is in love with you? it's not one-sided? what, how, why, since when? have you been missing the signs all these times?

soshiro peers at you, gauging your lack of reaction. he tries to catch your gaze but the sight of your unfocused eyes and red cheeks had him smiling softly. "do i need to kiss ya to prove my feelings?"

it seems impossible but your body heats up even more, finally getting out of your previous stupor. "w-wait, what the hell! y-you can't just drop that so casually, what?! explain yourself! why didn't you tell me that sooner? especially about our promise!" you point a finger accusingly at him.

he stands with his arms behind his back, looking like the cunning fox he's always known to be with the pleased expression now growing on his face. he then takes a few steps towards you, taking your hands in his. "what else is there to say? i love you, sweetheart. and i've never forgotten that promise we made when we were younger. hm, actually... how about we make good on our words and get married right n—"

at this point, your insides are combusting with how fast your blood has been flowing in your body. "okayyy, i love you too but i think that's enough embarrassment for today!" you pull a hand away and push your palm in his direction, wanting to stop his face from getting closer.

soshiro lets out a relieved laugh, dodging away from your hand before slowly putting his forehead against yours. you glance down at his lips distractedly. "actually, you know what? maybe you should kiss me. uh, you know... as proof... or whatever," you whisper, watching the corners of his mouth tilts at the corner. "yeah? ya think so too?" he murmurs.

your little "mhm," is the only reply he needs before he leans in, connecting his mouth with yours. fireworks spark in the depth of your stomach when soshiro cradles your face affectionately, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as the two of you move in sync, wanting to etch the feeling and taste of the other's lips into your minds.

when you finally pull away, none of you make a move to get out of the embrace as he props his head back against yours, inhaling sharply. "fuck, you don't know how long i've been wantin' to do that," he groans as your lashes flutter slightly at the sound of his thick accent. he makes a move to dive in again but you suddenly grab his shoulder, putting a distance between you two.

"alright, as much as i love how this turned out, i really need to take a shower. i stink, soshiro." you grumble, reluctant to ruin the mood which makes him snicker. "okay, okay, fine. let's go back for now. i'll find ya again at dinner. how's that?" he inquires, intertwining his hand with yours as you two make your way back to the base.

"yeah, sure thing. also, does this mean i'm your girlfriend now?"

"oh? and here i thought we already established that we're married?" soshiro questions, his free hand coming up to rub his chin in exaggerated contemplation. "what? no, we didn't. stop being hasty, will you?!" you reprimand lightheartedly.

he sighs dramatically, "that so? well, i guess ya just have to stick with bein' my stinky girlfriend then."

"hey!"

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astaroth1357 · 2 years ago

Text

"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":

*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*

Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???

*the MC... almost does a spit take*

MC: Excuse me???

Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??

*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*

MC: .... Do you really want to know?

Asmo: Of course!!

Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...

Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??

Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡

MC: Well... if I have to pick...

MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.

Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*

Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.

*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*

Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!

Lucifer: Mammoooon?

Mammon: 😨 Shit!

MC: It is Mammon, actually.

Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!

*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*

Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!

*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*

MC: It sure is~

*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*

Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄

MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.

*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*

All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.

MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?

Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...

MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!

*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*

Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣

Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢

MC: It’s actually you, Satan!

Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?

*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*

Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?

Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.

Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏

Lucifer: Don't push your luck....

MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!

Asmo: THANK YOU!!

Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!

Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌

Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨

MC: You know what? It's Beel.

*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*

Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊

MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂

MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...

Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"

MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.

MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!

Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....

Bonus:

MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*

Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?

MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...

Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?

MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...

Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬

MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫

#honestly there is not a world where i see belphie as the best lay #he doesn't fuck you #you fuck him #which is fine if you like control #but that ain't the question #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me simeon

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erwinsvow · 8 months ago

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𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night.

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-”

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes.

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances.

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?”

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.”

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-”

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

#eeeeeee💓anon hope you love!!!!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

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v1x3n · 3 months ago

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S T E R E O T Y P I C A L

simon 'ghost' riley x reader ⸝⸝ navigation

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : a serial killer haunts your town, but unfortunately for you there had to be one classic dumb, hot girl!

୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : angst (?) - serial killer, stupid moves that would piss you off, subtle pantie stealing, knocked out.

you saw the news, all the stories online, you saw how everyone in the uk were panicked at the unknown serial killer going around. missing people rocked up dead, all around where you lived. your town was scared shitless.

you were scared, everyone had their doors and windows constantly locked. no one was out on the streets due to fear, the wind whistled and the town was near silent. weapons were handed out, you gripped hard onto a knife as you hear a loud bang outside. peaking through the window just to see your neighbours cat rummaging through a fallen bin. you groan and quickly look along to street, you knew it was a stupid move but you unlocked the front door.

stupid pretty girl move in a horror movie, right?

you tip toe outside, knife still held tight in your hand and you run over to grab the kitty. she meows and licks your fingers, you kiss the top of her head, "what you doing out here" grumbling to the cat, stomping back over to the house. stepping back inside and slamming the door back into place. plopping the kittycat onto the wooden floors so you could lock the door, "cmon baby" you coo and bend down to pet the cat. "ill get you some food, hm?" lightly walking into your kitchen.

opening up your fridge and pulling out some chicken from last night, you pull out a few pieces, placing them onto a plate and putting said plate onto the floor. clinking the side of the dish so the fluffy cat came running.

the cute little kitty was your neighbours cat, oreo, black and white little thing. her fur was fluffy and soft, slightly damp currently due to it rummaging through all the bins in the street and other shenanigans she would get up too. she was very cuddly and loved you, she constantly showed up at your door or in your garden, at your window.

you look over at the cat and smile at her chomping away, grabbing a small bowl and filling it up with cold water. placing it beside her.

sighing whilst looking through your kitchen window, glancing at the cat and you let out a second sigh. looking down at the the phone you pulled from your pocket. it was midnight, time for bed i guess.

soon you make sure the kitty is okay before heading upstairs. an eyebrow raises as you have a bad feeling deep in your stomach as you step through your bedroom door. peaking in and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

walking back to your bed and grabbing the clothes you had scrupled up on your bed to take downstairs after your shower. the cute jeans, the small tank top, your scratty bra you needed to replace andd... your panties. which were misplaced. odd.

you look around your room, maybe you had dropped them? but after you check, nothing. you sigh, okay, that's fine. you're clumsy and had better things on your mind right now, you probably put them somewhere else whilst thinking of that psycho. yeah, thats sounds like you.

trotting back downstairs with your dirty washing in hand, oreo screeches. "hey hey, what's wrong " you mutter and bend over to pick up the kitty. cuddling her in your arms, walking through the kitchen to put away the clothes. you plop them in the washing machine and pepper the top of the cats head with kisses. "big scaredy cat, ain't ya?" cooing at the kitty , turning your eyes over to the living room before you started walking back in. "cmon kitty kitty" you softly say, your eyes look up at the front door. wait. you could've sworn you locked the door. the wooden door peaked up, a gust of air slipping through the slip in the door. you drop the cat, quickly looking down to see if the cat was okay - she was, so your eyes so back to the door. you quickly slam it shut, locking it up once more.

"hello?" you call out, stupid move. a creaking sounded from your stairs while you carefully step up them. water fills your eyes and you grab your phone, it dropping instantly to the floor as you jump, the sound of a deep booming voice pops out from behind you, "hello sweeth'art" you turn around and you sniffle, going to step back but the man steps forward you, "don't be scared" he mockenly coos.

you take a good look at the man, a scary mask plastered on his face and his whole body covered in black. fuck, he was big though. muscles making the dirty clothes almost rip, the only piece of skin showing was his eyes, gorgeous light brown eyes that stared into your soul. his pupils dialated at the sight of the poor girl, crying in front of him. so so scared. you peer down at his hand as it raises towards you, making you flinch back and run up the stairs. quickly sprinting to your room and slamming the door shut. looking down at your hand to see that, fuck, you dropped your phone. slight banging could be heard from outside, it was probably just him walking, he was fucking humongous. "hide and seek? fun" he chuckles, grabbing a lamp he found from a table in the hallway. he knocks your door and you scramble to the corner of the room, tears flow uncontrollably from your tear ducts.

after moments of silence, he jolts the door and it creaks open, you knew you should've gotten more locks. you sob in the corner as his shoes step forward.you meet eyes with him - sight trailing down to the lamp in his hand. he instantly sees you cuddled up in the corner, crying your eyes out. "love, divnt cry, to pretty f' tha'" he steps forward once more until eventually he was in front of you, he kneels down. you push your face away from him, "look at me, hun"

you sniffle once more and your fingers clench onto the ground below you. the masked man grabs your chin and forced you to look up at him, "gorgoeus thing" he hums.

"you know what?"

"w-what" you whisper.

"yer a doll, might keep you." was all you could hear before an object, the lamp, hits the side of your head. effectively knocking you out - your body slumps to the side.

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sthavoc · 9 months ago

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౨ৎ🎞️ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x actress!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: you and Enzo are in the same event, meeting each other for the first time, and of course the paparazzi wanted a few shots with you both. Which later led to conversations between the two of you.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: none

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: he looks rlly good in that pic doesn’t he.. but apart from that I hope u guys enjoy this. this is in spanglish bc I just think the dialogue in spanish fits the guys better. also I’m not rlly good with writing imagines. this would be like my first time I publish one so I’m sorry if it’s ass lol. btw i’m sorry if I get anything wrong i’m not uruguayan or argentinian, but I do speak spanish.

Enzo couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It’s not that he had staring problems it’s just that you looked amazing and he just couldn’t believe he was in the same place as you. It was an important event and you both were lucky to find yourselves in the same place.

“Ya dale ve a presentarte boludo.” Juani stood next to Enzo. He had partially slapped Enzo on the back of his head making him snap from his gaze. “¿O te le vas a quedar viendo como loco todo el evento?”

“Callate” Enzo laughs as he glances your way. The cameras flashed on you as you posed and smiled for the pictures. You looked gorgeous.

“No en serio. O te presentas vos o lo hacemos nosotros.” Fran’s voice made both of the boys heads turn his way.

“No me va a pelar.”

“Yo creo que ya lo hizo. Mira.” Juani chuckles racing his brows as he darted at Enzo.

Juani had seen you staring their way with a feeble smile painted on your tinted lips. They all payed attention to how you looked forward to the cameras, giving them all a smile with a wave as you walked the opposite direction.

“No, no. Que viene acá.” Enzo panics. “Que hago.”

“Presentate.” Matias gives him a dull push.

By the time you had reached them, the guys stepped away and began to make their own conversation, leaving Enzo and you alone. Enzo turned around to the guys. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess anything up. After all, it was his first time meeting you.

“Hola mucho gusto, Y/N L/N. Te vi desde lejos y quise venir a saludar y a decirte que vi la Sociedad de la Nieve, y debo decir que me encantó.” You gush with a small smile as you hold your eyes on the man. You extended out your hand for him to shake. Which he did, but he also gave you a small kiss on the cheek. You hoped your lipstick didn’t leave a kiss print.

“Enzo Vogrincic. Muchas gracias. Es un gusto conocer a gran estrella como vos. yo soy un gran fan tuyo y.. te ves muy hermosa.” He was trying so hard not to seem like an idiot right now.

“Ay que lindo. Gracias.” Your lips carved a smile at his praise. You yourself made an effort not to blush. “Tú también te ves guapo.”

“Guys! Look this way!” A paparazzi called for your attention.

“¿Te gustaría tomarte algunas fotos conmigo?” You request motioning towards the cameras.

“Sí , sí. Claro.” He gestures for you to follow first. He somewhat helps you fix your dress as you walk away. As you both find your pose his hand lands on your lower bare back. And of course as the gentleman he is he instantly withdrew his hand. “Perdona.”

you let out a small chuckle telling him it was okay. He partially thought twice but he placed it back in its place when he felt your own hand on his back. Enzo just wanted you to feel comfortable around him. As he didn’t want to weird you out on your first meeting.

“You guys look amazing together!” A paparazzi exclaimed trying to get as many pictures concurrently.

“Hm, creo que les encantamos a los paparazzi” Enzo jokes making you look up at him with a smile. There will absolutely be pictures of that pose.

“Al parecer sí.”

“Vamos, si queres te puedo presentar a los chicos.” Enzo’s hand rested inside the pocket of his dressing pants in a nervous manner.

You of course agreed with a hum, stepping away from the center and walking towards where the rest of the cast was. Enzo tried on guiding you while he motioned the guys with his hands to walk over.

“Chicos, Y/N. Y/N estos son Matias, Juani, Fran, y Agustín.”

“Mucho gusto.” You greet each of the boys. “Buen trabajo que hicieron en la película.”

“Muchas gracias.” They all reply in unison.

“Sos una actriz increíble me veo todas tus películas.” Juani comments making you give him a warm smile, and bringing your hand to your heart.

“Ayy re lindo.”

“Bueno pero y si entramos ya? Cómo que tanto flash me está mareando.” Matias’ eyes shoot a double blink. He also brought his hand to his right temple giving it a small massage.

“Concuerdo.” Enzo nods.

Everyone walked inside the event. First thing that met the group were the LED lights that colored the room and the huge amount of tables that had glasses and champagne on them. Not to forget the decorations. Every single one of you turned your heads to admire the whole room. Enzo who didn’t waist no time hurried himself to pull up a chair for you. That made you release a smile.

“Gracias.”

He himself sat next to you as the boys filled around some of the seats around the table. Juani grabbed the bottle of champagne making a foolish face towards Fran, creating a bit of laughter between the two. Matias and Agustin didn’t last in joining their conversation, and also in taking silly pictures of each other.

“Entonces, Enzo. Cuéntame de ti.” You tried to make a conversation to reduce the quietness between the two.

“Uff.” He raised his brows letting out a chuckle. “Que no se puede saber ya.” He comments making the two of you laugh, you yourself racing a brow tilting your head to the side for a split second. “Pero pues tengo 30 años. Me fascina el teatro. Me encanta tomar fotos, la música”

“Wow. Tenemos cositas en común eh.” He looks at you with a warm smile and a glint in his eyes from the small nudge you gave him. “me encanta la fotografía, también me gusta el teatro y amo la música. Tengo un record player y me encantaría poder ir a una disquera y comprar más discos. Y debo de mencionar que nunca me vas a cachar sin mis audífonos en mis días libres.” A small chuckle escapes from Enzo’s lips at your remark.

“Ese soy yo con la fotografía. Voy a todos lados con mi cámara.” He motions towards his camera, which you hadn’t even noticed. “Si queres podemos ir a una disquera que vi por ahí cuando me estaba paseando.”

“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” A playful smile crept upon your covered lips as you watched how a nervous look arose on his face.

“Bueno.. como amigos obviamente.” He quickly adds.

“Te estoy jodiendo. Claro que podemos ir.” He laughs in relief as he sets his arm on the table staring at the ground. “Sirve de que tomas algunas fotos” You add motioning towards his camera.

“¿Me darías tu número entonces?”

You watched how Enzo took out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before setting it between the two of you. Your hand reaches for the phone, giving him a small glance with a slight smile. You start to look for the contacts app before you began on typing your number in his phone.

“toma. no me nombres nada malo por favor.” You joke as you watched him create your contact.

“para nada, linda. No quiero que me odies.”

Enzo was starting to come out of his shell, letting out a pet name was somehow a small way of him showing he was getting comfortable around you. He just hoped it didn’t mean too much for you to shut him out. On the contrary though.

You softly giggled and somewhat blushed at the pet name. “odiarte no creo.” His eyes turned their all divided attention to you as he finished his typing and locked his phone again before placing it back into his pocket.

“Pues espero que me podas responder el mensajito.” He murmured as he got closer to you for you to be able to hear him.

“Por supuesto que te contestaré.” You point towards him. “Me encantaría ir a esa disquera y si se puede me puedes tomar algunas fotitos.” He smiles as he receives the silly wink you gave him.

“Claro. Sí. Sería un gusto.” He rests his hand on his chest. “Si queres te enseño algunas que tengo en mi celular.” You nod liking the idea as he takes out his phone again looking for his gallery and the folder where he kept all of his pictures.

“Podes deslizar a la izquierda.” He gives you his phone which already had the first picture set.

“Oh wow.” You were amazed by the simple yet amazing quality pictures he has taken. Some were of cats, buildings, him in black and white. “Son hermosas Enzo. Si no la hubieras echo de actor la hubieras echo de fotógrafo.” You laughed along with him.

“Es algo simple. Es uno de mis hobbies.” He murmurs next to you as he also looked at the pictures.

“Pues eres muy talentoso, de verdad.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your eyes leaving the picture with a light smile as Enzo didn’t tear his eyes off you.

“Y/N! oh my God here you are!” you recognized the voice making you look behind you, and Enzo finally looking somewhere that wasn’t your face.

You found the person the voice belonged to. “Oh, Maddie. Hi.” You chuckled. “I’m sorry I got a little distracted.” You turn to look at Enzo and then the boys.

Maddie’s eyes scanned the whole table as her strawberry tinted lips were opened a jar with a smile. “Hi. Madelyn Cline.” She greeted as everyone waved at her. Her eyes went back to you as she gave you a smile with a knowing look. “It’s okay you can totally stay here. I don’t mind.”

You looked at Maddie then back at the boys and at Enzo. He was quick to speak. “Te podes ir si queres. No hay problema.” He shrugged and the guys filled in into his request.

“Bueno. Disculpen. Pero fue un gusto conocerlos a todos y ojalá podamos un día volvernos a ver.” Each one of the guys got up from their seat and kissed you goodbye as they agreed with you, including Enzo. “Enzo un gusto.” Your hand rested on his arm for support and his on your waist as you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Un gusto linda.” He decided to use the pet name again for a last time tonight.

You turned your back on their table leaving with Maddie as a small smile stayed on your lips. You did hope to see all of them again, especially Enzo. There was something about his vibe and talking to him that made you feel at peace. Like you enjoyed his company.

And you honestly couldn’t wait to get his message.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic

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mrsokkotsu · 20 days ago

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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𓈒 ˖ ࣪

boothill x f!reader. sfw — hurt comfort. established relationship ﾉ reader is an age regressor ﾉ reader has a meltdown over being poked fun at by others :c ﾉ reader is shown to self harm through scratching 'n digging her nails into her skin . . ﾉ da word 'daddy' is used tew refer tew boothill ﾉ sugar, lil' love, darlin', princess, good girl 'n lil' missy as petnames ❤︎ ﾉ dis piece is extremely self — indulgent . . please b kind to mi . . ૮꒰⑅ ˊ ᵔ ˋ ⑅ ꒱ა ﾉ re-upload from a previous blog

a little hiccup, a little whimper, a sniffle, and then a sob, a wail, a scream.

you curl in on yourself, scrunching up into a ball and digging your nails into the flesh of your thighs, the fabric of your skirt bunching up in your fists. tears cascade down your cheeks in streams, leaving wet stains that seep into the cotton of your shirt, the collar of which is quickly coated with the saliva that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. the crescent moons your nails leave behind bloom pink on the expanse of your thighs, throbbing with dull pain. it only makes you cry harder.

you've hidden yourself away in the farthest corner from boothill, a little crevice that's barely lit and surrounded by thick hedges. the only way one could reach it is from the narrow passageway from the east, and you'd made sure to cover the entrance with an array of flowers that have been plucked and strewn across the entrance.

you had always liked hiding away in such little nooks, tucked away between the tallest plants and beneath the largest branches, in a world of your own, far from the judgement and scorn of others. it's the only place where you feel safe, at home. a small pocket of comfort in the chaos that is reality. a haven from the harsh world that exists beyond the walls of your sanctuary.

but, even that is taken away from you now, when the sound of footsteps crunching on dry leaves and the heavy panting of a machine draws near.

"sugar? are you there?" the familiar lilt of his voice is muffled through the foliage, and you choke on a sob when the branches rustle, the flowers fall and a figure parts the shrubbery. he's tall enough that the top of his head grazes the treeline. "i know ye'r there, sugar. let's go back inside, yeah?"

you shake your head furiously, press your hands to your ears to block him out. but boothill knows better than to let that stop him, crouching down and crawling on his knees. the grass stains the material of his trousers green, and you feel a pang of guilt strike through the cloud of despair that hangs over your head.

"i don't wanna!" you wail, voice cracking and hiccuping as you rock yourself back and forth, the heel of your palm pressing against the hollow of your throat. "please don't make me."

"don't make ye'rself sick, sugar. come 'ere." boothill holds his arms out and beckons you with a gentle wave, "ya know ye'r safe with me, don't cha?"

he keeps his distance from you, careful not to get too close. you're a fragile thing, he thinks, a flower whose petals bruise easily. and boothill has the utmost care for your delicate self, treats you with the gentleness and tenderness and softness that the world has never shown him, for the sake of preserving the fleeting purity and sweetness that lies within you.

he wouldn't dare do anything that may mar your beautiful soul. not for all the stars in the sky.

"h-hm," you sniffle, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blotchy, lips pursed. "h-hhmpf!" you whine again, reaching out and making grabby hands at boothill, the tears that trickle down the slope of your cheekbones glistening like tiny droplets of honey. "m-my booh-h-hill.. mh— my dadd— d-daddy…"

you bawl, sobbing incoherently as you throw yourself forward and cling to him, the sudden impact causing you to bump your head against the steel of his chest, the scramble to hug him so frantic that your knees are scraped and grazed, the skin split from a collision with a stray pebble.

the wounds sting, but you hardly feel it, too caught up in your own distress.

"daddyyyyy—" you cry out, and boothill coos softly, stroking the crown of your head, careful not to let his metal joints tangle themselves within the locks of your hair. "da-ddy-y, make it stop! m-make the b-b-bad thoughts g-go away-y, plea-ase."

your words are choppy, punctuated with small yelps and gasps, and boothill holds you close, cradling your head to his chest, his touch so tender and full of love that it threatens to rip open your heart. the warmth of his chassis is a comforting presence, a grounding force that soothes the tempestuous waves that ebb and crash against your mind, slowly bringing you down from the height of your distress.

the tears have finally stopped flowing, and your cries have reduced to little hiccups. the sniffles remain, along with a snotty nose. boothill doesn't seem to mind. "what's makin' ya upset, lil’ love?"

"mm-h-hhm," you hum, nuzzling against him and rubbing your cheek against the cool material of his chest, fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his jacket.

boothill brushes the sticky hairs matted to your forehead away, tucking them behind your ear. "what's happenin' up here, hm?" he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, his lips a welcome balm on the inflamed skin. "talk ta' me, sugar. ya know daddy'll listen."

you chew on the inside of your cheek, worrying the skin raw as you muster the courage to speak. it's an arduous task, with how the doubts and worries and anxieties swarm the forefront of your mind, each one a little buzzard ready to pick and peck at you. "w-why am— why a-arent i n-norma-al?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, a shiver running down the length of your spine. you're terrified, and the feeling only grows the longer boothill remains silent. "every-one says-s tha-at i'm weird a-and-d annoying and-and, i'm c-childish and dumb, a-and— and-!" you inhale sharply, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. "d— hm— d-dadd-y a-am i b-broken?"

you whisper the last part, a mere ghost of a breath, but boothill hears it nonetheless, and the gears that serve as his heart stutter and grind to a halt, a sharp pang of something he'd never felt before piercing right through his core. "what? princess, where on earth'd ye'r mind go comin' up with somethin' like that?"

he asks you, his voice laced with the most minute of trepidation. "jus' cause some folks can't see how amazing ya are don't mean ya ain't normal, sugar. it just means they're too stupid t' recognise a real star when they see one."

he says it so matter-of-factly, as if he's stating the most obvious thing in the world. "b-but i'm not normal!"

you hiccup once more, "i don't think like everyone else! i'm little and i-i need to be looked after and-d—" your words are cut off by the clog of your throat, the droplets you thought had already dried spilling down your cheeks anew. "i don't act like an adult!" you sniffle. "i-i don't wanna be an a-adult. i want to b-be little! b-but but everyone a-always makes f-fun of me-e for it-t!"

"and i hate it-t! i j-just want-t to be me-e! but i can't-t, no-ot if it means-s people will a-always b-be mean to me!"

you've begun to dig your nails at yourself again, and boothill catches you, gently prying your hands away from your wrists and holding onto them.

"hey now, darlin'— no no. none a' that, yeah?" he takes one of your hands in his, brings it to his lips and kisses each finger, the tips stained the faintest shade of scarlet.

"no hurtin' yourself, ya hear me?" he whispers, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand and giving it another kiss. "daddy loves this little body, every part a' it. even the parts ye'r not so fond of. and it ain't healthy t' hurt what daddy loves, alright?"

he lifts his other hand and places it atop your head, caresses the back of it and runs his thumb back and forth.

"sugar, look at me, mhm?" he waits a moment, and then two, three. a fourth, a fifth. he's patient, always has been when it comes to you. eventually, you give him a tiny nod, the slightest of movement, and peer up at him through dewy lashes, doe eyes shining with a vulnerability and fragility boothill can only hope to protect.

"there we are," he breathes out, "jus' perfect. thank ya f' trustin' me, little one." boothill's voice is quiet, a low murmur, and it wraps around you like a warm embrace. "listen closely t' what daddy's gotta say, a'right?"

"there ain't nothin' wrong with ya, sweetpea. and don't cha dare think that there is." he wags a finger in front of your face, and you watch it curiously. "ya like bein' little and daddy likes lookin' after ya, and there ain't nothin' bad 'bout that. ya ain't broken. no sir, no ma'am." he shakes his head, "ye'r a precious lil' girl, and that's the truth."

"now, if anyone has a problem with the way ya are, send em' my way. daddy'll have a lil' chat with 'em." he flashes you a toothy grin, "we'll set 'em straight, sugar." boothill gives you a playful wink, and the corners of your lips twitch up into a timid smile. "jus' promise me ye'r gonna stick it out, hm? no more runnin' away. daddy can't go chasin' ya all the time."

he taps your nose, the light pressure tickling you. "we got a deal?" he extends his pinkie to you, and you hook yours with his, giggling softly when boothill gives the digits a firm shake. "tha's a good girl. daddy's real proud of ya." he plants a kiss atop your forehead, and you preen under the praise, the weight in your heart lifted by a huge fraction.

"now, what d'ya say we head back in and get those knees cleaned up, yeah? the sun's already settin' 'nd we can't have ya fallin' asleep before dinner." he gives you a stern look, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, betraying the mock-sternness of his expression. "can we?" he chuckles. "ya know how cranky ya get when ya don't get yer fill a' dessert."

your cyborg lover hoists himself up and removes his hat, placing it atop your head. the brim falls over your eyes, and boothill can't help the adoring laugh that escapes him, lifting the edge up with his finger and giving you a smile so sweet, so pure, so full of love that it's almost sickeningly saccharine.

"up, up we get." boothill pats the seat of his pants, bending down and patting his knee. "hop on, sugar." he gives his knee a quick slap. "ye'r not walkin' back, not when those little legs a' yers are so shaky." he gives you a look that brooks no argument, and you comply, crawling over to him and throwing your arms around his neck. boothill stands upright, taking a moment to gather his bearings before he lifts you up and places you on his side, carrying you out from your hideaway. the path back is dimly lit, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, the faint scent of his cologne wafting past your nose.

"there we go, all snug an' safe.. how 'bout i take ye'r mind off a' things with a lil' singin' on our way back, hm?" he coos. "i heard a new one on the radio the other day." boothill bounces you on his hip, your happy noises stifled against his skin. "how does that sound, lil' missy?"

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