#no I didn’t sleep lolol
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damn
#don’t know why me as a non horror/blood/gore/violence/etc fan#decided to start watching y/eIIowjackets alone at home after everyone else is asleep#and also at home which is bigger than my apt obviously lol and where i have my own room#im probably fine like i’m just unsettled by it so it was just an interesting choice LOL#esp like pretty much knowing what i was getting into#anywayyyyy i didn’t know any of ye/IIowjackets was on netfIix#i’ve acc wanted to watch it for a while ever since seeing stuff on tumblr LOLOL#one of the tags of a show i haven’t watched but keep unfiltered bc i don’t mind seeing things from it#so i have been spoiled but i think that helps for me who is relatively not a horror/etc fan lol 😭#idk if this classifies as horror but it does classify as smth i usually would not watch 👍#so why am i watching it idk still LOL it’s rly interesting thooooo#i love making the window super small and also completely blocking the screen except the captions#when shit is going down <3 LOL#anyway time for me to get ready for rotting in bed and continuing reading this h/eartstopper fic#to hopefully not have too bad a time sleeping lololol#me when i did this to myself#jeanne talks
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I was 27 when I actually made some new friends, which I hadn’t really done since middle school. Those friends are now like my second family.
I was 28 when I started watching more anime and reading manga and webcomics. These weren’t activities I ever got into as a kid or teen, but as an adult I find great joy in them. I then started writing and drawing again, which I hadn’t done in a long time, having found inspiration from these shows and stories. These hobbies are now how I spend most, if not all, of my free time.
I was 29 when I came out as bisexual, and within a few months realized I was also nonbinary. These are things I had never really thought of 15, 10, or even 5 years ago, but now are a huge part of my identity.
I was 30 when I started publishing my own webcomic. I had always been called artsy, and even started college pursuing an art degree, but I gave up on that years ago and hardly ever actually saw a creative project through til the end. Now I feel determined and excited to see this through and improve along the way.
My point is, sometimes you discover things about yourself later in life (if you even wanna call late twenties / early thirties “later in life”…). And that’s OKAY. I thought I had all my shit figured out by the time I was 25. Hell, I was living my normal adult life doing all the normal adult things and thinking “welp guess this is it”. I was wrong. And thank goodness for that.
So next time you see someone and think “isn’t that person a bit too old to be doing that..?” Maybe ask yourself - why shouldn’t that person be doing that thing? What exactly is wrong with it? Is there really an age limit for the thing they’re doing? Just… be kind and let people enjoy things, man.
#never too old#ramblings#self discovery#bisexual#nonbinary#queer#lgbtq+#lgbtqia#anxiety#you know that meme that’s like ‘trying to sleep but my brain is replaying a slightly embarrassing thing that happened years ago’#that’s basically me right now#a few weeks ago someone basically told me that I was too old to be making a webcomic#and my anxiety won’t let me forget it#they specifically said ‘you’re 30 and making shit like this’#maybe they just didn’t like that it was a gay romance comic lmao#or maybe they didn’t like my art style#or maybe they don’t like comics#or maybe they didn’t like that I Blazed the post unironically lolol#whatever#maybe just mind ya business#and just be kind
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@rayroseu-reblogs ahhh yesss 😭😭 sleepy Hana brain was thinking how poetic that his hair was the color of red and how you are also red. In a way, when Lilia thought he couldn’t or didn’t know love, love was always there for him. There was always signs of it, be it romantic or platonic. 🥹🥹💞💞
Let me take this time to talk a bit about the colors I chose.
Silver - for Meleanor, it stands out and gives her such an emphasis. It not only speaks of her status but her ferocity. I thought of green initially for her but I feel the Silver really spoke as her color especially with the meaning of gracefulness, glamour, and determined.
Blue- Levan is known to be calm and rational and I thought blue fit him perfectly. Also it’s a complimentary color to silver so I thought it was perfect. And if we go with a certain headmaster theory, he also wears blue in his outfit.
Green - Malleus and the impact of his birth. His eyes were what Lilia noticed right away. The green flames. The way stubbornness and even the kindness of Malleus. Green also means new beginnings, life, renewal, and so much more. Seeing as how Malleus taught Lilia that he could love which opened Lilia’s eyes to this new beginning? I thought it was fitting.
Purple: For Silver I chose purple because most fanarts and official arts of Silver and Aurora gives them purple eyes as the more highlighted color. Purple also means royalty and pride but also has connections with peace and magic. And wouldn’t we say that Silvee has brought peace to their lives?
Red - You, the reader, desire, passion, happiness, warm, and love. The gradual love that is seen with Lilia and you. The simple moments that has him falling. It was natural how it came to him.
Seeing the world so completely because of his loved ones. It makes Lilia appreciate everything even more. Everything that led him to this moment in life.
This world of his is beautiful 🥹💞💞
Imagine having soulmates in Twisted Wonderland. Soulmates could be platonic or romantic.
Soulmates were connected in various ways. Some had the red string of fate, some the other’s eye color, some had words on the body, and others could hear voices.
For Lilia Vanrouge, it was colors.
He couldn’t see certain colors until he met his soulmates.
The first time he saw the color silver was when he was introduced to Meleanor Draconia. Her clothing and jewelry gave way to her status but also her fierce nature.
The first time he saw the color blue was when he met Levan. What a fitting color for somone so kind and calm. The perfect complimentary color to silver.
The years pass on, and yet, Lilia still couldn’t see certain colors.
What was green, purple, and red to him? When he had never known them? Who knew it would change his life so drastically when he first saw them?
The first time Lilia sees green occurred at the time of Malleus’ birth. The sharp acid color stood out to him as he hold onto the little fae. So feisty and rebellious just like his mother with fire spitting out of his mouth. As kind as his father as the baby fae then licked at his cheek in regret of any injury he may have given. A son born out of his love.
The first time Lilia sees purple came about on a whim. Visiting an old castle with years of memories. Holding a babe close as the little one cried. Purple eyes emphasized by tears. The little one calming as Lilia hummed him a loving lullaby, blessing the babe right after. A son he learned to love.
Lilia saw the world in an almost complete picture. He was content with that. Not many can say they had met their soulmates. Especially someone like him, who was graced with five.
Not to say he wasn’t curious about his missing one at times. Who was it that bore the color red?
The color known for passion, desire, and happiess?
A color symbolizing destined fate?
Imagine his surprise, when he met with you one day, and he suddenly saw the color red.
What a beautiful color it was.
He understood, then, the significance of the color red and its’ tie to you.
Your passionate nature.
Your desire to live life the way you wanted.
Your desire for happiness for yourself and for others.
You who would somehow end up bringing a smile to everyone’s face, be it fond or exasperated. The way you brought one to his just by being you.
You certainly charmed him, had him falling for you.
Was it the way you smiled at him? Maybe it was when you helped with his pranks?
The way you stood up to him when it came to his family? Maybe even how you would help him cook meals despite other’s warnings.
Or maybe it was the way he allowed himself to be vulnerable to you as he gradually let you into his heart? A place he rarely let anyone in.
How he looked forward to seeing you every day? Making him look forward to the future and not run from it.
The kisses you both would share in the hallways or in your rooms? The gentle and sometimes teasing touches. Your eyes shining bright as the stars in the sky as if he was your world as you had surely become his.
Lilia knew.
It was everything about you that ensnared him so irrevocably.
Red.
It had also another meaning, didn’t it?
It was the color of love.
His world complete.
It was filled with love.
It was truly beautiful.
#hanas thoughts#🌺Lian🌺#if I wrote this again or edited it later#I would add the knight of dawn and his color would be yellow#because in a way#meeting him also changed lilia didn’t it#and how tragic and poetic for his soulmate to be on the opposite side of war#also the meaning of hello happiness#hope betrayal#friendship in another time and place lilia and him would have been great friends#2am Hana thoughts goes deep and won’t let her sleep lolol#sorry for the rambling hahaha I couldn’t help myself
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pretty when I cry
wc: 6k
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: what was meant to be a slow relaxing morning after a night out with joel turns into something much more.
a/n: so I’ve been trying to work out the rest of my tlou series but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. it’s entirely self-indulgent, absolute filth, literally inspired by porn (but with feelings). pls skip if you’re not comfortable with anything outlined in the warnings/tags, otherwise hope y’all enjoy :] (and if anyone has any interest in a part two lmk bc I may or may not have some ideas lolol)
warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, smut with a hint of plot, established relationship, age gap, reader is described as small/little but also curvy, hints of possessive!joel, daddy kink, almost dd/lg dynamics, subspace, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia (very consensual), size kink, dirty talk, so many petnames (baby, honey, pretty girl, little girl), painful sex but Joel is a consent king, aftercare, fingering, *cough* butt stuff *cough*, unprotected pinv, squirting, barely proofread sorry
It wasn’t uncommon, for you to wake up like this, Joel’s head of salt and pepper curls dipped below the covers, his mouth eagerly pulling an orgasm from your pliant body. So it comes as no surprise when you’re roused awake by the sound of your own whines and whimpers, slipping through your lips like soft little pleas. Your tired eyes shift to the top of his head, the sheets bunched at his wide shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool morning breeze blowing through the open bedroom window.
He works in slow languid movements, yet he has you gushing around his tongue nonetheless, his mouth warm and wet against your dripping sex, still soft and swollen from the previous night’s activities. You’d fallen asleep, damp and sticky, only after he’d pounded you into his mattress until the early hours of the morning.
Upon waking, the feeling of his cum still dripping out of you, legs wrapped around one of his dense thighs, it drove him positively insane. It didn’t matter how peacefully asleep you were, how steadily you drew breaths between your plush lips, he had to have you the moment his eyes set on you.
He senses you’re awake when your fingers delicately twist through the curls at the crown of his head. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations making your eyes fall closed once more as wanting sounds slip past your lips. You’d never been one for religion, but seeing Joel for the past several months has you questioning everything. The way his mouth moves against your pulsing core leaves you with no choice but to believe in some higher power, some celestial being that deemed you lucky enough to allow a man like Joel into your life.
He pulls away from your messy cunt and you whine at the loss. Your glossed over eyes meeting his with pupils blown wide. “Mornin’ pretty girl,” he says, his voice gruff and his lips shining with your slick. The sight sends another wave of warmth straight to your core.
“Hi,” you say, tone gentle and weary with sleep. A timid smile spreads across your lips as you run a hand through his scruff. No matter how many times you wake up next to him, how many times he fucks you senseless, you always manage to grow shy under his salacious stare.
He plants a fleeting kiss to your clit and you shudder, you can feel him smirk even as your gaze shifts to the ceiling above you. Your hand unknowingly grips his hair tighter and urges him towards where you need him most, not even noticing your own action until you hear Joel let out an amused chuckle.
“So needy for me, huh baby?” He runs a hand from your thigh over the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight over the certain spot by your hipbone that he knows drives you wild. His fingers end splayed across your lower belly, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.
“Always need you, daddy,” you say, only slightly above a whisper, a small buck of your hips to get your point across. The petname has his already half hard cock twitching against the sheets, his other hand instinctively squeezes the flesh of your hip.
With no warning, his lips are on you again, his pace now fast and increasingly sloppy. He eats at you like a man starved, his curved nose rubbing against your clit with each of his movements. The intensity of it all makes your head spin and your cunt clench around nothing. A ghosting pain lingers in your lower half, another reminder of the evening prior.
The two of you had gone out, like you often did on Friday nights, deciding on a new spot downtown. Joel was hesitant at first, having heard it was more popular with the younger crowd, more catered to people your age. But he’d learned early in your relationship that saying no to you was nearly impossible, with your big doe eyes and sweet pleading smiles, he rarely had it in him to deny anything your little heart desired.
But God, the little black dress you wore nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you away in his bedroom for only his eyes to ever behold. Joel would never admit to being the possessive type. He knew what other men saw in you, wide eyed and sweet, kind beyond reason, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful curves. He saw the way they’d look at you, saw the way their eyes followed your perfect form, like predators stalking their prey.
He would never admit to being the possessive type, but his incessant grip around your waist in every public space and the death glares he’d send any man that looked your way proved otherwise. And despite your attempts to dissuade his arrogance, there was a part of you that craved to be claimed, to be marked as his.
The week had been long and draining. Your overbearing boss forced you to work overtime into the late hours of the evening nearly every night, and with Joel’s days often starting as early as 5am, he was usually sound asleep by the time you’d managed to feed yourself and drag your exhausted corpse to bed.
To no fault of his own, Joel hadn’t paid much attention to you this week, leaving you feeling neglected and irritated despite his generally relentless attentiveness towards you. And so you decided to toy with him, always testing his limits and seeing how far you can go before he snaps. You wouldn’t admit it, but you kinda liked him a little angry.
And boy was it easy to get a rise out of him, especially dressed the way you were, your ass only just covered and your tits spilling over the tight corset-like top of your dress. You had his blood boiling before the two of you even left his house. When you finally walked through the bar entrance, Joel was like a guard dog, his arm wrapped tightly around your lower waist, a permanent scowl imprinted on his face towards the many male bar goers that ogled you. He had you tucked so close to his body you were nearly tripping over his feet with each of your steps.
After your first drink you were feeling antsy, and a bit too bold for you own good, and so you flirted with them, boys you had not a single shred of interest in, laughed at their jokes and accepted their offers to buy you drinks, all the while glancing back at Joel, biting your lip, trying not to giggle at his grimace and the way redness began spreading up his neck. You’d retreat back to your table, to Joel, prizes in hand, and feign innocence when he’d question what you were up to.
“What do y’ think you’re doin’,” he questioned after you had slipped away to the bar a second time under the guise of needing to use the restroom. You padded up to him, slotting yourself between his thighs, twirling the straw in your drink between your fingers. Even sitting on the barstool he towered over you.
“Nothin’, daddy.” You looked up at him through your lashes, knowing fully well what your words did to him. You brought the hand that wasn’t holding your drink to his upper thigh, you could feel the muscle tense as you slid your way up, up, up.
“Watch it, little girl.“ He grabbed your wrist, hard. You instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He jerked you towards him, your chests nearly touching before bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, a stark contrast to the death grip he still had on your wrist.
His voice was low, a sign of warning. “F’ you want somethin’ from me, all you gotta do is ask, darlin’.”
You huffed and pouted slightly when he released you, ignoring the fact that your actions resembled those of a petulant child. Despite knowing that he would give you anything you asked of him, having proved it to you countless times over the course of your relationship, the neglected feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t want to ask, sick of making decisions and telling others what to do after the week you’d had. You wanted him to take.
It was after your third disappearance, this time to actually use the restroom, that Joel snapped. Passing by the bar, one of the young men that bought you a drink attempted to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t pay him much attention, just smiled and nodded at his words, quietly trying to slip by. But then his hands were on you, grabbing your waist in a way that made your stomach turn. You hadn’t even had time to register a response, to push him away and run back to Joel, before his hands were leaving your body and being replaced by much larger ones, rough and calloused. Joel’s hands.
“We’re leaving, now,” he grunted, pulling you by the back of your arm towards the exit. It was only after he’d practically thrown you into the passenger’s seat of his truck that you knew you were in for it.
You’d barely made it to the front door before he was ripping the fabric of your little black dress from your body, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor. Immediately you’d attempted to scold him, it was one of your favorites, but couldn’t get a word in before he was throwing your bare body over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom, promising he’d buy you as many dresses as you wanted if you’d shut up and let him have his way with you, let him fuck you stupid, until the only thoughts going through your head were Joel, Joel, Joel.
He spent the following hours relentlessly pulling orgasm after orgasm from your pliable body, impaling you on his thick cock until hot tears streamed down your cheeks.
“I know, baby,” he said from his place behind you, your limp whimpering form draped across the edge of the bed. “Just needed to be reminded who you belong to, huh?” His voice was mocking, but with a certain sincerity that made your cunt clench even harder around him.
“Yours, daddy,” was all you could manage before you came around his cock for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
Needless to say you were feeling extra sensitive this morning, Joel was hyper aware of this fact, yet the feeling of his tongue repeatedly diving into your abused hole had you begging for more. “Need you inside,” you say despite the hurt. Joel holds back a groan at your pleas, needy little thing. He pulls away just slightly to meet your gaze, his breath still hot against your core.
“Not gonna put my cock in you, honey.” The finality in his voice makes your heart drop and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You were always like this in the mornings, he had come to notice, sensitive, soft, often emotionally even more so than physically. Joel had always been an assured man, never impulsive or reckless in his actions, always thoughtful and never selfish. But with you he’d learned patience. He’d learned to hold your emotions in the palm of his hand with a certain gentleness he never knew himself capable of. He’d learned you often needed more time than most to become placid, to settle, and so it became almost a sense of his, knowing when to take and when to give, even when you weren’t sure yourself.
“Please-“ you whine, tears in your voice. His big brown eyes soften when they meet yours, his resolve slipping only momentarily while he moves to kiss the inside of each of your thighs.
“Not gonna convince me, baby.” he tuts. “Can’t take me yet.” He moves higher, nuzzles into the soft skin above your clit. You let out a small gasp when he starts sucking harshly, surely leaving a bruise, a mark that only he will ever see.
“I can. I promise.” You wriggle in his hold, feel your wetness drip onto the sheets. He nips the spot and pulls away.
“Quit.” He pins your hips harder, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease last night I wouldn’t’ve had to wreck this perfect little pussy.” He runs a finger through your folds as he says it and you tense slightly. He raises an eyebrow at you, an I told you so look, you huff in frustration, yet you relax in his hold.
“You ready to be good f’ me, baby?” His voice seeps through your ears like honey, your mind beginning to wander to that all too familiar headspace you often turned to in these moments. You nod your head, eyes hooded. Joel senses the shift. “You’re gonna take whatever daddy gives you yeah?”
“Yes,” you gasp as you feel just the tip of his index finger probe your dripping hole, Joel gauging your response.
“N’ then what d’ you say?” He twists his finger inside you and pushes in just to his first knuckle, the stretch already intense given your increased sensitivity.
“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, not a single shred of fight left in you. A devilish smirk spreads across his face.
“Good girl.”
His hands are on the backs of both your thighs, hiking your legs up so that they’re pressed firmly against your chest, your glistening folds on full display. You shiver as the cool morning air hits where you’re most vulnerable. He then pushes your knees apart, situating himself so that his mouth is only inches from your core while still holding you in place, your legs spread obscenely wide to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.
He spits directly on your clit and watches as it drips down your cunt, combining with the mess of wet already there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but it’s how Joel likes you, filthy with his cum and spit and your own slick. You tremble as he smooths his hand over your mound, his undivided attention on the mess he’s creating. When he’s satisfied, the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves, making your hips buck once more.
He pauses his movements, his eyes dark and entirely void of any sense of leniency. “Not gonna tell you again.” A tear pools in your lower lashes at the loss of his touch, your breathing goes shaky.
“So pretty when you cry f’ me, honey,” his tone mocking. “Almost as pretty as when you come for me.”
His mouth is back on you, even more ravening and unrelenting than before. You have to bite down on your pillow to prevent yourself from screaming when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his warm mouth. Every cell in your body is screaming for his touch, needing more, more, more. You want to be enveloped by him by not just his mouth, but every part of him. You have the sudden desire to crawl under his skin, make a home for yourself there, where all you can ever feel is him, him, him.
The peaceful sound of birds chirping outside the window is drowned out by your cries and the pornographic squelches of your wet sex. Your vision blurs as his tongue plunges in and out of you.
“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he pulls away for only a second, his eyes not leaving your center as he anchors his thick arms under your ass and thighs, bringing your cunt impossibly closer to his eager mouth.
Joel knows your body, knows what every twitch and minor shift means, how your breathing quickens when he’s brought you right to the edge, the sounds you make when you’ve completely given in, forfeited all control. And he senses it, when his thumb presses against the cleft of your ass, and a moan slips from deep within your throat, that he’s uncovered something, something that makes his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets below him.
He pulls away quick, too quick, and your face burns, the fleeting sensation prompting a new surge of desire in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was foreign, a bit startling, but in a way that left you longing for more. If you were to trust anyone to delve into this part of yourself, this uncharted territory, it would be Joel. It would always be Joel. He knew how to take care of you better than any man you’d ever known. With him you were safe, you were heard, cherished and adored. With him there was no emotion too big or too small, no desire left unsated.
“Joel-“ you breath. “Joel, baby. I want-“
He pulls away from you, a knowing look in his glassed over eyes. “What is it, honey? What d’ you want?”
He can’t help himself and licks a long strip from your asshole to your clit, moaning at the taste. “Fuck- Joel,” you cry out, a drop of sweat falling to your forehead. “Want- want your fingers.”
“Where d’ you want my fingers, baby.” He says it more like a command than a question, but you can’t respond, your head falling back as he starts lapping at your clit. “You want them in this sweet little cunt?” He prods one of his thick fingers at your opening, but quickly pulls away, leaving you clenching around nothing.
You bite your lip, eyes hooded. “Mm,” you shake your head. His eyes are nearly black now, something unhinged, sinful behind his gaze. He knows what you want, the seed already planted in his insatiable brain, but he wasn’t going to give in to your pleads that easily.
“Dirty girl.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please, daddy” you squirm, tears pooling at your waterline, threatening to fall at any second. His hardened grip on your hips softens for a moment before he’s turning his head and biting the inside of your thigh, hard. You gasp, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Use your words.”
“I wan- I-I don’t-,” you babble, the tears now flowing freely, leaving wet trails down your cheeks. He lets you choke on your words for a moment, not once tearing his eyes away from yours.
“Oh honey, I know s’ hard,” he soothes, sliding his hand along the curve of your ass. Your tears slow. “S’okay. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. No more cryin’.”
You sniffle, a small smile spreading across your face at his words. You always had a way of making him cave.
His expression goes serious for a moment. “What’s your safe word?” Red. “And you’ll use it if you want me to stop?” Mhm. “Repeat it.” His commanding tone sends a chill down your spine. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red,” you say softly and run a hand through his curls, wet with a mixture of your sweat and his own.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna make you feel so good,” he says more to himself than you. Your brain turns to absolute mush when his mouth meets your skin once again.
Even with his head between your legs, even when he’s on his knees for you, he’s the one in charge, the one that dictates your every move. How your body twists and bends to his will. He decides when you get to cum, decides when you’ve earned it. And there’s a certain feeling that comes with it, this loss of autonomy, a sense of ease and security created by a total loss of control. No other man you’ve been with has understood, most of them only seeking to fulfill their own selfish wants. But Joel knows, having understood this unfamiliar part of you almost as soon as the two of you met, knowing exactly how to satiate that little corner of your brain that craves submission.
You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his calloused thumb return to your tight hole, tensing a bit when he adds more pressure.
“Relax, baby.” And you do, your muscles go lax almost immediately and the furrow in your brow softens. You exhale a moan as he begins kissing your cunt, avoiding your most sensitive areas so that he can keep you focused on the feeling of his thumb pushing into you.
“Fu- fuck, Joel!” You basically shriek when the tip of his thumb breeches the ring of muscle, it’s already all consuming, already so full.
He retracts his thumb and you let out a choked sound before he brings his thick finger to your wetness, gathering slick on the pad of his thumb before resuming his unrushed stretching of your virgin hole.
“More ngh- please.” He prods you painfully slow, assessing your every reaction as his knuckle plunges into you.
“Uh-uh. Don’t care how nice n’ polite you ask, baby. Not gonna ruin this little hole.” He plants wet kisses along your seam. “Not yet,” he says almost inaudibly against your mound before devouring you once more. The promise of more makes something in your brain snap, all the shyness and trepidations from before gone in one fleeting moment.
He stretches you slowly, the speed of his mouth quickening and his thumb beginning to slide more easily in and out of you. You’re entirely lost in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by the pressure and the speed of his tongue on your clit. You cry out when he removes his thumb, replacing it with his middle finger, and dipping his freed digit into your cunt, completely overcome, overstimulated in the best way.
It’s too much, but not enough. But no, it’s too much. He’s everywhere, in your cunt, your ass, your head. All you can think is how anything in life could ever feel this good. How anyone can be this good, this knowing of your every want, every need. The thought makes tears pinch at the corner of your eyes.
His gaze is fixed on you, every twitch, every shift. He nearly comes at the sight of you grinding down on his fingers. That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. His movements slow, your orgasm begins to fade and you whine. You’re not even thinking when you bring your delicate fingers to your clit and trace small circles against the bundle of nerves. Joel immediately grabs your hand and pins it to your lower stomach, nearly growling against your skin. Any other time he’d have you bent over his knee for not asking permission, but he’s so drunk on you, so dead-set on making you come apart, he lets this one slide.
“Need t’ come so bad, huh baby?” You nod your head furiously, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. “Go ‘head n’ ask for it then, baby. Nice n’ polite like I know you can.”
“Please daddy, please let me come.” You barely register the words falling from your mouth, but the proud look on Joel’s face tells you all you need to know.
It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. He sucks harshly on your clit, pulling it into his mouth, while his thick fingers work each of your holes. His hand holding yours presses harder, harder, harder until the tension snaps and you’re screaming, sobbing out as you gush around him, soaking his scruff to the point that your slick drips from his chin and onto the already drenched sheets. He works you through it, curling his fingers into your cunt so that another warm stream of slick hits his tongue. And he takes, not letting a single drop go to waste as he laps at you.
Your head is still buzzing when he finally ceases his movements, the shockwaves of your orgasm still flowing through you making your whole body shake. Your muscles convulse as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core.
With blurred vision you watch him stand at the end of the bed, his cock painfully hard, red and leaking. You hadn’t even considered what all this was doing to him, so lost in your own pleasure from the moment your eyes opened. You have the sudden urge to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth until he comes deep down your throat, but your body is limp, sunk into the mattress below you. You merely watch with hooded eyes as he fists himself, his gaze fixed on your slicked core, the sight makes another pool of your arousal drip onto the sheets.
“Fuck-“ he sucks in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering against his own hold. “Need t’ be inside this tight cunt, baby.”
Your eyes go slightly wide at his confession, yet your lower half shakes with anticipation. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, this wrecked, desperate, this needy. He looks almost pained when your eyes meet his, and you feel as though you may just implode if he’s not inside you a moment longer.
“Will you let me, pretty girl?”
You nod.
“Yes or no, baby?” He squeezes the base of his shaft, staving off his impending release. You can’t help but smile a little, knowing he could come just like this, just from looking at you in your current state. But the need to feel him inside of you pulls you from the thought.
Yes, please, yes.
He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you, shoving a pillow under your lower belly and pushing down on you until you’re laid almost flat on your stomach. He grabs roughly at your hips, pulling you up so that his cock brushes up against your slick folds.
You bite down on your forearm when his wide tip notches at your entrance, basically drooling onto your own skin as you attempt to hold back your cries. He eases into you, still overly conscious of your sensitivity, ignoring the small part of his brain telling him to ram into you, make you feel every inch of him in one swift motion. He knows that you would take it, thank him for it, always such a good girl for him especially once he’s finally inside you, yet he knows the kind of control he has over you in these moments, knows it’s up to him to determine what you can and can’t take.
When he bottoms out you feel as though you may just split in two, something animalistic sounds from deep within Joel’s throat. Tears fall to your arm when your head lolls to the side, your breathing ragged and your whole body on fire from both pain and pleasure.
“Fuck- not gonna last, baby.” He starts moving in and out of you slowly, and god, it hurts, yet your tight cunt sucks him back in with each of his thrusts, a delicious burning sensation spreading along your slick walls. You open your mouth to respond, to tell him not to worry himself, to beg him to come inside your aching cunt. But all that escapes your lips is a choked sob in the sound of Joel’s name.
“Shh I know,” he coos. “You’re just so little, huh sweet thing? Little fucking cunt squeezing me so good honey.”
You keen at his praise, gushing around his massive girth. You’d never get used to it, the thickness of his cock, the weight of him deep inside your cunt. No matter how much he prepares you, it’s always a stretch, always just short of too much to bare.
His thumb presses into the cleft of your ass as his pace increases. “Gonna let me fuck you here, baby?”
“Yes daddy,” you say and he freezes for a moment, your words nearly sending him over the edge.
“Not today, little girl,” he growls and rocks back into you. A feeling of combined relief and disappointment washes over you. You’re not sure you could take it, not now, but part of you craves to be reduced to nothing but Joel’s fuck toy, fucked deep and full until you can’t even think, nothing but a few holes to be filled.
“You’d let me though, wouldn’t ya?” He pulls you from your thought. “Dirty fuckin’ thing.”
“Mhm, yes daddy.” Your vision goes black at the feeling of his cock pulsing against your cervix. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts went erratic, sloppy and slightly hurried.
“Let me do whatever I want to ya, huh?”
“Yes daddy,” you say the only two words left in your brain.
“Fuck, so fucking perfect, baby-“ The feeling of his warm release shooting inside of you makes you twitch around him and your brain go fuzzy. You can barely hear Joel’s grunts and moans nor his incessant praises over the ringing in your ears. This is what you craved, beyond the physical gratification brought on by these moments, but the way the world around you disappeared and you were filled with nothing but the content of being his, being Joel’s. The safety you felt beneath his large form, it leaves no room for worry, no thoughts of the stress of everyday life, no decisions to be made. Just him, just Joel.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, long enough to feel your combined release dripping from Joel’s cock onto your trembling thighs, long enough that you feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, in and out of consciousness.
When he finally pulls out of you, he lets your hips softly fall onto the bed, your body sprawled across the damp sheets. You feel the mattress shift behind you as he stands, immediately heading for the en suite bathroom. At the loss of his presence, you’re reminded of the open window, the now midmorning breeze dancing across your damp skin. You can’t help but wonder if the echoes of your morning endeavors made their way to the street below, if a neighbor passing by could make out the sounds of your shrieks and screams, if perhaps it’d been a cause for concern until it became apparent that your cries were derived from a place of pleasure and not pain nor fear.
Joel returns and takes quick notice of your shivering, immediately making his way to the window and shutting it. You smile to yourself at the sight of his bare backside, so strong and sturdy, the muscles in his shoulders sculpted from years of working on various job sites, tapering down to his waist, the dimples right above his ass. It’s truly a view you would never tire of.
“‘S impolite to stare, y’ know?” He catches your eye, a playful smirk spread across his face. You giggle at him, still laying on your belly, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him with your free hand, to which he quickly concedes, bending over at your side and planting a kiss on your lips. You sigh against him, carding your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.
“Hey baby.” He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your nose. He tucks fallen pieces of hair behind your ear. “You okay?”
You nod your head tiredly, unable to muster any more of a response, and he doesn’t attempt to pull one out of you, kissing your nose and rising back to his feet.
He disappears once again, this time returning dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a damp washcloth in hand. He sits next to you on the bed, moving to clean between your legs, but your thighs clamp shut. It’s a purely physical reaction, your body on high alert due to the sensitivity.
“Hey hey-“ he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine then leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just want t’ clean you up sweet girl. I’ll be so gentle, promise.” His soothing makes your legs instinctively relax and he brings the washcloth to the apex of your thighs. He’s gentle just like he promised, yet you still hiss slightly when the warm material meets your sensitive skin.
When he’s finished, he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts from the dresser, quickly returning to your side and urging you to turn onto your back. He dresses you, your body like putty in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. You can’t deny the aching feeling in your lower half when he slides your shorts on, but it’s a good kind of ache, an ache you’ll crave as soon as it dissipates.
You grab at him again when he moves to pull away, but he makes it easy for you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, careful not to bare any of his weight on you. The little whimpers that slip past your lips as your warm mouth moves across his make his spent cock twitch.
It scared him sometimes, the intensity with which he felt for you, the depth of his affections. It scared him, the thoughts he had, of what he would do to those who meant to hurt you, to those who have hurt you. It scared him, the thought of losing you, the lengths he would go to keep you safe, keep you here, here with him. But it was in these moments, when you’re laid beneath him, so soft and so lovely, that all those fears melted away.
Before things move any further, he hooks his arms under you and lifts you from the bed with ease. You don’t protest, not sure you could even if you wanted to, instead you latch onto him, curl your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you downstairs to the living room.
He attempts to set you on the couch, but you cling to him like a koala, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Let go,” he says firmly, a smile behind his words. “Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his skin, whining as he unfurls you from his torso and plops you on the couch. He places the TV remote in your hand, telling you to put somethin’ on, whatever you want.
He disappears into the kitchen and you attempt to sit up on the couch, your body going slack against the cushions. Your brain is still buzzing, it’s almost like you’re floating, not yet fully aware of your surroundings, but you can slowly feel yourself coming back to reality. You turn the TV on and set it to your latest recording.
Joel returns a few minutes later, your favorite water bottle and a plate of peanut butter toast in hand, a bottle of Advil in the other. He sits on the couch, immediately urging you onto his lap, and you don’t object.
“The Bachelor?” He says, a hint of judgement in his voice as he unscrews the cap of the Advil.
“You love it,” you respond, beginning to lose focus on the show as you squirm and slither against his body, making yourself comfortable as if he were part of the couch. Joel softly chuckles, wrapping an arm loosely around you.
He holds a few of the pills in front of you. “Joel I’m fine. I don’t-“
“Not asking, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, but take the Advil from him nonetheless, swallowing them down when Joel holds the straw of your water bottle to your mouth, knowing your body would thank you for it later.
“Good girl,” he plants a quick kiss to your temple, before grabbing the toast from the coffee table, heat rises to your cheeks at his words.
He feeds you the toast, taking bites for himself while you chew. You hadn’t realized how depleted your body was, now feeling the haze lift with some food and water in your system. Every time it’s like coming back to earth, but fortunately you know that Joel will always be there to catch you.
y'all I’m not good at endings pls forgive me
but hope we enjoyed the rest :p
part two
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller fic#pedro pascal characters#joel miller au#tlou au#joel miller fanfiction
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HONEY AND ROSCOE
lewis hamilton x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter
♡ a look into the relationship between winnie and roscoe!
୨୧ just a little expansion adding onto the relationship between winnie and roscoe in honey hamilton! some of this is based on stories my mother told me about me and my childhood dog! you guys deserve this fluff after that filth i posted last night lolol <3
♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here
reading music recommendations: hope by daughter - my light heaven by ben babbit
♡ when you were pregnant with winnie, roscoe was so protective of you…
୨୧ whenever someone other than lewis came near you, he’d let out a gruff bark as if he was telling them “ keep your distance ”
♡ you and lewis thought it was SO sweet <3
୨୧ whenever you were sitting down in bed or on the couch, roscoe was right next to you, resting his head on your bump, raising his head everytime winnie would kick as lewis would talk them both
“ feel that roscoe? that’s your baby sister in there! you’re gonna look after her when she comes, aren’t you? ” ( roscoe let out a huff, as if agreeing )
♡ when you guys first brought winnie home from the hospital, roscoe was all over her, sniffing her as you held her down to him whilst lewis held him by the collar, making sure he didn’t hurt her
୨୧ they were inseparable since day one, roscoe would sleep at the foot of her crib like a guard dog, making sure she was safe
♡ there was a short period when winnie was a baby where she just could not stop crying…
୨୧ you and lewis were obviously freaking out, wondering if she was sick or something was seriously wrong
♡ as you’re sitting on the couch, lewis moving to another room to call a doctor and ask what you should do, roscoe approaches winnie as she’s held on your lap
୨୧ as soon as roscoe is in her field of view, the crying stops, as if a flip had been switched!
♡ she starts giggling so loud as he sniffs her slipper covered feet, chubby little hands reaching out to pet his face
୨୧ you immediately call out for lewis, telling him not to call the doctor for now…
♡ he’s confused but as soon as he walks into the living room and sees what’s happening, a huge smile breaks out across his face
“ oh… were you just wanting to see roscoe, honey? ” ( he comes over and sits next to you on the couch, calling roscoe up so he’d be closer to winnie )
୨୧ she doesn’t cry for the rest of the day, always having her eyes on roscoe who stays by her side, nuzzling her every once and a while
♡ when she’s a toddler, she definitely lays on his back, juice cup in hand, watching cartoons, roscoe not minding one bit, sleeping peacefully as she idly pets his head
୨୧ whenever roscoe does something deserving of a treat, lewis always calls winnie over to be the one to give to to him just because he knows how much she loves giving roscoe treats
♡ when winnie is old enough to have her own bed instead of a crib, she refuses to sleep in it without roscoe up there with her <3
୨୧ he sleeps at the bottom stretched out by her feet, head hanging off the edge and snoring the loudest you think is possible for a dog
♡ roscoe ONLY plays fetch with winnie now, he treats you and lewis like chopped liver…
୨୧ if you try to throw him a ball, he’ll watch it fly through the sky and hit the ground but won’t even think about going to fetch it
♡ but when winnie has the ball? he’s running for it before she’s even had the chance to throw it!
୨୧ you guys let her hold roscoe’s leash on walks when she’s old enough, you and lewis on either side of her just in case you need to step in for whatever reason
♡ but it’s like roscoe knows he has to be soft with her, he walks even slower than usual and occasionally stops to look back at her as if checking she’s still okay…
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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ love and deepspace men and their random habits
warnings: none!!
characters: rayafel, xavier, zayne, sylus
link to master list here!
author’s note: feeling like a short and sweet one today, sometimes writing more than i want can take the fun out of writing so i’ll stick true to myself this time 🗣️
more below the cut! ☆〜(ゝ。∂)
he like, drums his fingers a lot. you know like that rhythmic tapping on desks?
rafayel enjoys moving around his fingers and stimulating his brain in little ways whilst he’s waiting for some paint to dry to paint another layer or when waiting for you to finish an activity.
he also picks at things, paint on the wall or at scabs (bad habit, you tell him but he never stops) - he complains and says it doesn’t hurt when you bandage it up
rafayel hates growing out his fingernails but he doesn’t bite them, he tends to pick them until they peel shorter then clip them neat with nail clippers
how to combat both his picking habit and nail peeling at the same time? slap on some nail polish, he gets to peel to his hearts content and look amazing at the same time!
“Cutie, come here. I peeled off all my nail polish, can you redo it?”
i feel like in game xavier already blinks quite a lot more than all the LIs, but i can see him also doing those like, long hard reset blinks
he’ll blink loads at once then do this longer blink and then be fine, i can just see him doing this
maybe it’s because his hair looks like it’d get in and irritate his eyes lolol
when you and him get plushies he keeps the ones he keeps on his bed, i feel like he’s usually minimalistic when designing his house but his bed??
it’s like a plushie fortress, when you visit you could literally drown in them
“I like sleep, and I like you. It’s the best of both worlds, want to join me?”
zayne is the type of person to ACTUALLY rub his temples, like what person actually does that? zayne of course.
he also subconsciously clicks pens a lot, not loud and at a high frequency - but if you pay attention to his hands you’ll notice he gently clicks and then un-clicks the pen when in deep thought
he definitely does this more when he’s stressed, the feeling of the pen popping out against his thumb is therapeutic
zayne keeps around fake plants and a watering can because he somehow found a sick sense of amusement watching you water them every time you came to his office.
“Why am I smiling? No reason.”
he genuinely rubs his hands together and it makes sylus look like a fly, he just looks so sinister and mischievous when he does it
if you ask him why he rubs his hands together he just shrugs his shoulders
“Just habit, sweetheart.”
really it’s because he has sweaty palms LMAOO and he’s an old man, of course he’s gonna do old man things
i feel like sylus likes to chew on things, imagine one time you catch him clenching his jaw and decide to give him some gum
it’s not like he doesn’t know what gum is he just never really though about buying some
after that you find stacks of gum in his draws and he’s always chewing a piece, the only thing he dislikes is discarding gum.
AN; silly silly men doing silly silly things, i didn’t think too much about these just slurred random ideas and wrote them down LMAO
#✧⁺ writing#love and deepspace#lnd imagine#lads#lnd rafayel imagine#lnds rafayel#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#love and deepspace rafayel#lnd xavier imagine#lnds xavier#xavier x mc#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#zayne x mc#lnds zayne#zayne x you#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x you#sylus x reader
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Besieged part II
part one
tw - noncon, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, blowjobs, naoya being naoya and being an asshole. naoyas shitty excuse of foreplay. not beta read
wc- 2.1k
by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.
a/n- hey…how y’all doin. don’t hate me for posting this over two years later lolol i honestly didn’t think i’d ever get back to this but. i have had been on a writing kick lately. i hope my skills haven’t completely disappeared. thank you for all the love for part one.
You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel its presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.
Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?
Eventually, you reckon you had silently cried yourself back to sleep. It was the fact that when you had come to again, your now husband wasn't sprawled out on top of you. But a maid with a worried look on her face gently tapping you awake. Telling you it was time to change the bedding, her skittish voice starting to pull away the curtains of grogginess out of your system.
You make sure to give her a warm smile, nodding and giving a soft thank you. Making a mental note to treat the staff nicely, showing them you are nothing like that vile man you have been legally bound to.
The maid turns away to give you privacy as you move your sore body to plant your feet on the cold floor. Seeing a note laying on your bedside table, picking it up you read it over. “I will be attending my own duties until mid-day, don’t bother me, I shall come find you when I deem it is time. Don’t miss me too much <3” You scoff crumpling the note and tossing it where you found it.
Shivering you pull on the robe nearby, letting the soft fabric hug your frame, giving another smile to the maid, you make your way to the washroom and out of her way. You spot the shower and take a better look at the elegant room. The ofuro and shower separated, traditional yet modern touches adjourning the room. Both bathing options are definitely big enough for two, you mentally note that he had done that on purpose. Looking between the two options, a soak in the ofuro seemed more tempting, something to soothe your aching body from the rough treatment you had taken last night.
Taking a good look in the mirror as you begin to fill up the bath, your eyes widen at the state of your body. Darkened marks adorn your neck and chest, accompanied by bite and scratch marks decorating your thighs and waist. Is he even human? You surely don’t remember the sex being this animalistic, but your fucked out brain probably drifted off after your second or third orgasm you presume.
Hopefully he isn’t this insatiable every night. The thought sends shivers down your spine, keeping yourself distracted by adding salts and herbs you had found sitting out into the steaming water.
Carefully stepping in and letting the warmth consume you, you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting daydreams run through your weary head as you lean it against the edge of the appliance. Near dissociation when.
The brash opening of the door rips you out of your thoughts, you hear his footsteps before you see him round the corner quickly. Ripping you out of your dream-like state, sending your nervous system into fight or flight mode, a shrill gasp emitting from you.
“Ah ha there you are. I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not before the sun went down.” Naoya says as if it was a matter of fact. Cat like eyes trying to peer beneath. “I was looking all over for my little wife.” The man poses with a faux stretch. “I got done with my duties early, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing with my new toy.” He begins to shed his daily attire.
Sighing, but not quite in defeat you close your eyes and begin to mutter “well excuse me for trying to take even a bath by my-”
Before you could even finish the sentence, you heard it before you felt it. A smack resounding in the room before your hand flies to your face to soothe the stinging pain. Shocked with wide eyes you avert your profile to him.
You are met with a stern look to his amber eyes, face unreadable. “I will tolerate little from you. I knew choosing you there would be some pushback, a stubborn woman such as yourself. However, you are smart enough to know and follow expectations regarding being my wife. I do not tolerate back talk. The rumors surrounding my clan are indeed true. We expect traditional wives. You will be absolutely no different.”
Flabbergasted you cannot control your rising emotions as they burst through the seams. “Expectations?! Guidelines?! I didn’t even want this!” No, you will not cry. Not in front of him.
A strong hand grips your face, a force even pulling you from the ofuro. “This. Isn’t. About. You.” Venom laced in his words as he shook your head back and forth. “I don’t care what you want. Surprise wife! You are here for me and me alone. That is your purpose in your pathetic life. Serve me. Warm my bed. Be my personal fuckhole. And bare me an heir. Speaking of fuckholes….” Naoya mumbles. Fumbling around with the cloth on his body. Slipping all of it off, the light illuminating off of his body, accentuated by the steam.
You’d be lying to yourself as to say he did not have a nice body. He did, and a nice cock, 7 and a half inches or so with decent girth and a perfect curve. You would know, the entire night the damn thing was inside of you, you are now very much so used to it.
To add on to his earlier statement, you are being gripped by the nape of the neck, Naoya standing on the stool you use to step into the tub, but he’s not stepping on.
“Open that whore mouth my dear beloved.” How can someone’s words be so venomous yet patronizing?
Taking a moment to process you don’t even see his hand come down to pinch your left nipple, the gasp parting your lips is all he needs to shove it in between your parted lips. Going slow and taking your time is not your dear husband's forte, obviously. As he is instantly gripping the sides of your slippery cheeks and moving his hips to fuck his cock farther and farther down your throat. Your gags, and spluttering echo to and fro through the bathroom, along with the sound of his balls, slapping your chin, pulsing with the need for release.
Though the man above you is groaning, face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure. He protests a moment. “No, no no, fuck, no, need your cunt. Gimme…” Naoya begins to mumble, pulling you up by your arm from the ofuro. “Bend over the edge, yeah, yeah just like that.”
You know it’s futile to argue, and you can’t deny, that he does feel good, is that why your body is betraying you when you arch yourself over the edge of the bathroom appliance? Why you don’t kick and scream when you feel him spread your cheeks to get an adequate view of your cunt glistening with bath water, slightly covered in suds from your attempt of relaxation? Is it that deep down you know that submitting to him is your best option right now? Can you really do this for the rest of your life? In such a compromising position, your thoughts run wild.
All thoughts stop racing through your mind when you feel the head of his cock push in through your tight hole. Shaky trembling hands gripping your hips tightly. Naoya’s head is also whirring in pleasure, just like yours.
“Fuck fuck it’s just as tight as last night.” A sigh emits his mouth. As if his cock in your pussy could melt all his stresses and worries away. Fuck. Is all that he can formulate. Using his hands to bring you back and forth on his erection. A moan threatens to emit from your mouth before you cover it with your hand, no you cannot give him that satisfaction. Biting down on your hand for some semblance of control.
A semi cold hand finds its way to your warm slick breast, a hardy squeeze as he brings up his tempo. “Y-yeah” he groans. “Take it, like you’re meant to. All you’ll ever be good for anyways.” Naoya growls, speeding up his thrusts. Biting down on your shoulder. Angling his hips to hit deep inside your cunt over and over your G-spot. You swear you can feel him in your chest at this point.
Your hand falls to the edge of the tub squeezing the edge in an attempt to ground yourself from the new found angle. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of his use of your body as his own personal fuck-hole, that he could make you cum from the treatment as well.
“Fu- shit. You’re milking me you bitch!” His teeth detach from your shoulder, his hand gathering at the crown of your head to hold onto your hair and bring his body towards him. “Look at me.” The blond demands. Pace never falters. “A fucking mess from a little fucking.” He hisses. “Who owns you?”
As if he can talk, he’s practically panting and drooling like an animal in heat. The latter question sparks a flood of defiance in you, moving your head side to side.
“Tell me who you belong to if you wanna cum. Otherwise, you can just suck me off and I'll finish all over that pretty face. I don’t fucking care.”
You jolt in surprise as you feel his hand on your clit, lithe fingers swirling the bud. Teasingly coming and going each time you tighten around him. The itch that needs to be scratched is becoming a far bigger problem. Your inhibitions going out the window.
I mean, it's four words, it can't hurt right? Just this once you reason.
“I belong to…” You muster the reward of Naoya’s fingers rubbing your bundle slightly faster. The sounds of your moans and his hips slapping yours echoing in the bathroom.
“G-go on I can’t hold out much longer, stupid cunt feels too good.”
“I-I Belong to y-you! Na-Naoya!” You finally snap at the same time your husband increases the pace of both his fingers and thrusts. Your cunt squeezing him so tight he can barely pull out to go back in, your release exiting out of your spent pussy, splashing on Naoya’s pelvis.
“Too tight, too tight SHIT!” The man curses, pushing himself practically against your womb as you hear him growl, squeezing your body to him so tightly not even paper could come between.
You feel the final twitch as you come down from your high. Warm spurts of cum filling you to the brim.
Naoya pulls out slightly wincing as his spent cock falls out. Mesmerized seeing his pearly cum in your thoroughly abused pussy. Two fingers wasting no time to push it deeper. “I-it has to take. You need to be knocked up.” He pants, as you turn your head worried eyes widening. “Need to make sure you can’t leave. Even if you tried.” The latter part of the sentence comes out more dark as the former.
As you sit and lament over what just happened. Naoya steps beside you to drain the tub, leaving half the water before he fills it again with warm water. You look at him quizzically, he pays no mind, checking the water. Adding some salt and soap to the bath. Before lifting you up and setting you in without a word. “I have one more errand to attend to.” He exclaims redressing himself. “I will be eating dinner with you. Your husband says before leaving the bathroom. Not waiting for a response from you.
Shock leaves your system. Did he just… Do something nice for you? You won’t say it’s the best aftercare, but honestly you thought he was just going to leave you on the cold tiled floor. Warmth creeps up to your heart at the gesture. You shake your head, scolding yourself. You cannot fall for crumbs. Never for him, anyone but him.
You can figure something out, you reason. Find a way to leave and keep your family safe at the same time. Change your names, move out of the country, something! You cannot stay here, if you don’t leave now. You will be stuck under his heel forever.
#tw.noncon#naoya zenin#naoya zenin x reader#jjk smut#naoya x reader#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere jjk#yandere naoya#tw.yandere#tw.forced marriage#tw.breeding#tw.breeding kink#tw.oral#tw.pregnancy
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Inhaled everything on ur masterlist in 1 night, my boss asked me why i looked like i got no sleep 😅. (it was WELL worth it) 😴 MAY I PLEASE REQUEST a Suguru Geto X chubby reader i am so normal for geto and ur fics plsplsplspls
You're writing is FANTASTIC it makes me feel all fuzzy jdjfjfjdkf
- 🍭
Berries and Chocolate!
Summary: Suguru loves summertime because his beloved chubby girlfriend wear a shorts!!
Characters: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 2,163
Warnings: smut, making out, body worship, a little food play if you squint!
A/N: As a chubby girl myself I loved writing this! Sure fun sexy and sweet (edit: it would help if I posted the story!! Lolol I'm sleep deprived!!)
Geto Suguru loved summertime. He got to take trips to the beach with you and the girls, and work was less busy, and you wore shorts. Let’s rewind a bit. You rarely wore shorts, tank tops, or dresses, all because you were insecure about your body. You had a big butt, thick thighs, and a tummy that Suguru loved. He thought every inch of you was perfect. However, we’re still insecure despite that.
Suguru would always try to hype you up, telling you how beautiful you were and buying you dresses he thought would look amazing on you, but you never would cave. From fall to early spring, it was always tights and sweaters. Which you looked amazing in! You looked beautiful in a hoodie and a tank top. But your boyfriend would be lying if he said he didn’t love it when you were short and spaghetti straps.
There was something about seeing your plump skin, how your thighs rubbed together, how he could see your breasts spilling over your bra. Your tummy, your thick thighs were. Everything about you was perfection to him. Despite him telling you that on multiple occasions, you still got shy, insisting to leave your shirt on when you had sex. Of course, your boyfriend wanted to see every inch of you, but he wouldn’t push you if you weren’t comfortable doing it.
However, your insecurities melted away when the days got longer and hotter, and the sun would blaze down on you. Because in the summer heat, you wore the least clothes you could. Making your boyfriend go feral, seeing your plump, perfect body. Seeing you hardly usually played the same way it always did. You were thrown over his shoulder and getting fucked within an inch of your life. Even though you both ended up a sweaty mess afterward.
Today was the hottest day of the year thus far. It was hot and humid, making the temperature rise. Thank God he always carried an extra hair tie because sweat was running down the nape of Suguru’s neck, making him groan. The heat was almost unbearable, but the prospect of getting inside the cool apartment had his feet moving faster across the hot pavement, longing to get inside and cool off, climb the stairs, hurry towards your shared apartment, eager to see you and chug down an ice cold glass of water.
“I’m home,” he announced as he kicked his shoes off, dropping his jacket to the floor before locking the door. We need an answer into the cool apartment, looking around. “Princess?”
“In the kitchen!” Chances were, if you were in the kitchen making dinner, there was a 50-50 chance you were using the stove or oven. If either of those were involved, he knew the apartment would increase in heat. After a long day of being out in the sun, he had had enough to last the whole week.
“Hey.” Rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, he said, “Maybe we could buy something for dinner?”
He found it as chili as the rest of the apartment. “Oh, I’m not making dinner!” His eyes followed the sound of your voice, and holy fuck; you were hot.
You were standing at the kitchen island in Black booty shorts that rode up, showing the curves of your plump ass. The band of your shorts dug into your hips, making some of your spill over the edge. You were topless, literally topless, with no shirt, no bra, just a white apron hooked over your neck and tied around your waist. Seeing your bareback on full display, Suguru’s jaw was on the floor.
“I’m making some chocolate-covered strawberries.” Your thighs jiggle as you reach over the counter, grabbing a ripe red berry from a bowl. “It’s going to be a nice cold treat for later.” When there’s no response from your loving boyfriend, you turn slightly to look up at him, showing off the side of your bare breast. “Sugu?”
Before you can even register what’s going on, Suguru has you pressed against the counter, making you gasp out, as his hands quickly work to untie the apron from around your waist. His hands grip your plump hips, gripping them and massaging them eagerly, pressing his fingers into you. His lips press against your neck, nipping and licking at your skin as his hands ever so slowly trail up and over your stomach. Gently, fingers brush over the stretch marks that line your tummy before trailing up higher and higher until his hands grope your entire breasts.
The feeling of his lips against your neck, his hands groping your breasts, and the feeling of him rocking his hard erection of your ass makes you dizzy. Your fingers, speckled with chocolate, grip the edge of the counter, holding it tight for support as Suguru rolls his hips roughly against yours, his cock throbbing inside his pants. His eagerness makes your mouth go dry as you tilt your head back, giving him more room to lick and nip at your sensitive skin.
”So fucking beautiful.” Suguru grunts against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in his messy kisses. “Princess, you’re so fucking breathtaking.”
The desperate tone in his voice leaves no doubt in your mind that he speaks the truth, from the hoarseness behind his words to the desperation in his touch. Your raven-haired boyfriend was enthralled by you, leaving you a messy bundle of limbs. Whenever he got feral like this, your mind would go blank, jaw slack as you averted from his peering eyes. Every time he would look at you, there was a raw desire that always had you squirming eagerly against him because you wanted him just as bad.
“S-Suguru—“A wanton moan passes through your lips as he twists and pulls at your sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger. “W-What’s gotten into you, baby?”
The twisting assault on your sensitive buds comes to a stop as Suguru somehow manages to pull his mouth away from your neck. “What’s gotten into me?” His warm, calloused hands leave your breasts, tugging the apron off completely before turning you around to face him. “You.” His hands are on your hips again, lifting you onto the kitchen island and sitting you on the cool marble counter.
Like clockwork, your hands reach down to cover your plush tummy from his view. His hands gently wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands away, allowing him to take you in. Your tummy rolls slightly as you sit up straight, and the stretch marks that line your stomach and thighs also line the sides of your perfect breasts. His hands grope the soft flesh of your tits, squeezing them and massaging them gently and trying to put his appreciation of your body into every gentle squeeze and caress of his touch.
He was obsessed with you and your body. There was no doubt or question about that. When Suguru touched you, you could feel how much he adored you. The erection in his pants told you how much he wanted you just the way that you were. Where you saw insecurity, he saw perfection.
“Me?” You gasp out as he slides your panties and shorts to the side, revealing your wet, dripping cunt.
“Yes,” he snarls loudly against your ear as the handrails back up to your breasts, squeezing them together. “You all of you, you’re perfect.” Heaps his tongue over both your nipples before sucking on both of them. “Mmm~”
The feeling of his warm, wet mouth and circling your sensitive buds has your back arching up against him: your plump stomach, his muscular chest. For a second, you almost pull away. Thinking that you won’t wear, they did such an exquisite specimen as himself with your body. When Suguru feels the slight shift of your weight, when you’re about to move away from him and his mouth, he releases one of his hands, wrapping around your body, pulling you flush against his chest, grinding his hard cock over your exposed pussy.
He watches slick coats his pants in his string of arousal. The sight of your wetness coating his still-covered erection sends shivers down his spine. He loves watching the way your thighs jiggle with each thrust against your clothed core. But he loves the sharp moans and inhales of breath that escapes your chest as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to your incredibly sexy body.
With a sharp pop, Suguru pulls himself off your breasts. “I love you, my beautiful Princess,” Suguru whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“I-I love you too.” The words come out in a breathless, singsong voice.
“God, I want you so bad.”
“Oh—“ Suguru watches your smaller hands work to unlatch his belt and unzip the zipper, “you can have me~ all of me~”
Suguru excitedly pulled his cock out, eager to please his Princess. With a smug grin, he grabbed her thighs before sliding your hips to the edge and grinding up against you. "God, you're so fucking soft~ Fuckin' love you~let me worship your body."
“I love you too~” you purred like a cat in heat. “Fuck~ yes, you can worship me.” Gentle hands grip your boyfriends shoulders. “You always make sure to do it~.”
He chuckled, nodding as he kissed down your neck before up to your mouth, pressing chaste, eager kisses against your lips. "Oh, I plan on it, princess~” Sliding a hand down, Suguru guides his cock slowly into your pussy. Hissing at the wetness that coats his tip, he pushes himself inside the tight muscles that pull him further inside.
“Oooh, good God.” Your back arched, pressing against his chest. You whimpered as the smell of fresh berries and chocolate flooded your senses. Suguru pushed into you, grabbing the counter and shifting the bowls. “Suguru~”
Suguru moved one of his hands to grip your back, forcing you to arch into him, and he thrust upwards, burying his cock deep into you. "I'll worship you every day, princess~"
“Oh, holy fuck!” You squeaked out as your eyes rolled back. The pleasure that rocked through you made stars twinkle behind your eyes. “Ooooh, my fuckin’ god.”
Your sweet, loving boyfriend laughed against you, kissing and biting at the soft skin around her shoulder and neck. "Oh, you're fucking delicious, baby~" his arm tightened around you while his other hand groped your hip, massaging you as he snapped his hips forward.
“Suguru~” A warm, rich laugh escaped you as you glanced down at him, the rays of the afternoon sun reflecting off your hair. Reaching into the bowl next to you, scooped up some white chocolate before smearing it all over Suguru’s lips. “Oooh~ I can’t wait to taste you~”
The feeling of you smearing chocolate against his lips made him growl, your beauty, and the dirty innuendos coming from your lips. He bucked up into you like a madman, desperate to make you cum, desperate to fill you up with his cum. "Fuck—fuck—Ahn!!" He growled, his cock throbbing inside you as he slammed his chocolate-covered lips against yours in a bone-chilling kiss.
Screams of pleasure flooded Suguru’s mouth as you cried out. Your toes curled as the taste of your boyfriend and chocolate washed over your tastebuds and lingered with the faint traces of strawberries. The intensity of the kiss, the feeling of his cock slamming into your g-spot and cervix, has you squirting as you came. You dug your fingers in his hair as your body arched against Suguru’s. Fuck, fuck he felt so good. It was intoxicating, so much so that you rolled your hips, eager to feel him cum inside you.
Luckily, you didn’t need to ask or beg for him to do so. Watching you come undone, feeling your plump legs, stomach, and breast jiggle, and the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. Suguru let out a roar of a moan against your mouth; your pussy tightening around him was just too much. He cummed inside, his hand tightening around her hip as he emptied his balls inside of you.
Sitting there in post-orgasmic bliss, you hummed in pleasure, your chocolate-covered finger running down his biceps. “Fuck~ Suguru~.” Your kiss-swollen lips pressed against his cheek as he recovered his senses.
"You have such an amazing body, Princess.” Suguri practically purred, kissing your neck and shoulder with a slight grumble. “God, you're fucking beautiful ~ I love every inch of you.” He threw you over his shoulder, grabbing the bowl of strawberries before stacking the chocolate on top. “Say it’s laundry day, right?”
“Ahh!” you giggled, looking over your shoulder at him. “Yeah! I just haven't changed the sheets yet.”
“Good, because we're about to make them dirty.” what could Suguru say? Your plump, beautiful body always had him ready to go!
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3
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more sleepy!peter pleaseee!!!
pairing: peter parker x reader
w/c: 800+
a/n: i had the roles reversed this time lolol - this post is based on x and abt one office reference!
peter loved sleeping next to you.
your bed was always so comfy and you were always so warm.
but sometimes it had its downsides
it could just be the frustration getting to him, but the poor boy couldn’t seem to sleep.
maybe it was the fact that you two were practically sleeping in a freezer. you always told your boyfriend you couldn’t ever fall asleep in a hot box.
or maybe it could just be you, sleeping so peacefully, without a care in the world, unmoved and unbothered, all while being the world’s biggest blanket hogger.
he also knew he shouldn’t have drank that extra cup of coffee earlier in the evening, however in his defense, he was exhausted, and he needed that extra boost to get through his last few classes of the day.
as he looked at you, a shiver ran down from his neck and to his spine, feeling goosebumps scatter around his arms.
the dim lamppost outside shines through your window and onto your relaxed face. peter’s jealous of the sweet slumber you’re in.
“y/n?” he reaches out to poke your puffy cheek.
you’re dead asleep.
you were tucked away across the mattress as he tries tugging the blanket away from you, attempting to spare some for himself. your loose grip allows peter to find comfort in the heat the warm sheets bring when he wraps it around his shoulders, tucking his feet inside and tangling it with yours.
peter feels himself finally dozing off, his heart rate slowly decreasing. he's halfway asleep when you disrupt him, feeling you gradually snatch the blanket away, stripping him of the toasty covers.
“y/n/n,” he groans. the boy is now restless as he begins to lightly poke your cheek again, “c’mon please?”
this time, when he reaches for you once more, he feels you quickly wrap your hand around his pointer finger.
“touch me one more time, parker and i swear-”
“i just wanna sleep” he whines. he’s frowning at you with those big eyes, wishing you would turn around to face him.
“you’re gonna be sleeping by yourself for the rest of your life if you don’t-”
“please,” his voice cracks. peter's desperate to rest and the least you could is to help out.
you heave a sigh, “peter just,” you turn towards him, keeping your lids shut, “close your eyes”
he’s quick to do so tightly, shifting around to get more comfortable, “take some deep breaths.”
peter follows your instructions, “slow your heartbeat down,” he takes a few moments to focus on the task and he begins to feel more at ease than he has the entire night. he waits a bit longer for you to continue.
“and then what?”
silence.
“y/n?”
no answer.
“y/n!” and he’s shaking your shoulders, “you can’t sleep now!”
you groan in annoyance, “just go to sleep, peter”
“you don’t think i would if i could!?” he huffs.
“well, what d’you want me to do?”
“umm,” he takes a few moments to ponder before he suggests, “ask me about my day.”
you blink one eye open at him, glaring, “it’s 2am... and you want me to ask you how your day was?”
peter blankly blinks in return, offering you a toothy grin, “mm, yea!”
you could only stare back at him blankly as he waits for you, and slowly you ask, “how was your day.”
he’s instantly giddy at your question (which definitely didn’t sound like a question), and breathes out a relieved sigh.
“i’m so glad you asked,” he shakes his head, “it was so tiring.”
he began to ramble on about how eventful his day was. and no matter how hard you tried to fight off sleep, there was something so calming about peter’s voice that puts you to sleep.
“-and she bought me a churro, so that was nice. oh, and you know howard? that homeless man on 31st?”
“mhmgh.”
gradually, he subconsciously moves closer to you, playing with a loose thread of your blanket and tucking himself in, snug against your body.
“he told me that he lost his pet pigeons when he got kicked out and he asked me to go help find them for him. i never realized how hard it was to swing while holding a couple of birds. but anyways, i still have-”
peter takes a look at you as you doze off and whines your name.
he’s shocked when you surprisingly move towards him, bringing an arm around his torso and tangling your legs with his.
at last, the boy seems calm down after awhile, focusing his breathing to follow suit with yours. talking did seem to help. now he’s finally warm, laying in bed next to the girl he loves most. and you’re pleased with your effort to help him sleep.
it's only a matter of time until he pipes up again.
“hey y/n, if I was a worm in a top hat who could only communicate with you telepathically, would you still love me?”
“dammit, peter”
#m's clubhouse! 🎧#m writes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・#peter parker#peter parker x y/n#mcu!peter parker x reader#mcu!peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman#spider-man#spiderman x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker blurb#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fic#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker writing#college peter parker
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Another Sleepy Tyrrish Men Headcanon
I should be sleeping but instead here’s Garrick
How does he sleep? It’s the letter X, yall. He’s sprawled out taking all the space. At Basgiath he was crammed in small beds that didn’t fit his frame so if he’s back in Aretia, he’s got his body taking up all the bed space.
Any pillows? One. A single pillow is all he needs. When you stay over and ask for a pillow he’s going to be cheeky and say “I’ll be your pillow.” But he’s also serious, he only has one pillow…
But he’s Garrick and always has a plan to take care of everyone so once he finds out how awkward it was to have you over with no spare pillow he secures one for you
How many blankets? Just one. A semi thick blanket. But bonus points is that it’s big. The Tavis family were all tall so his family blanket in his room is so big you both can easily share without fighting for warmth.
Does he snore? Oh yeah. Lumberjack Garrick is sawing logs over there. Xaden makes mention that Garrick runs his mouth even in his sleep. Yes, It’s loud but it’s like, cute lolol. If you give him a little nudge to roll over on his stomach he’ll stop.
He makes you a pair of earrings that have noise canceling runes on them, because he’s Garrick
Nightmares? Yes. More on that below
Cuddler? He’s grabbing you up and tossing you on the bed and grabbing you again once he gets under the covers. He loves to fall asleep with you held close, preferably with your face against his chest. Though, after he’s asleep he rolls off if you and sprawls out on the bed.
Goodnight kiss? Yes.long, slow, intimate as hell and you two usually find yourselves….a bit more active before sleeping due to that level of loving
Is he waking up for late night smoochies? Yes sir. Though I’d like to imagine the nightmares wake him up and he’s so scared and startled he can’t go back to sleep right away. But, he sees you next to him and starts cuddling you again, kissing your shoulders, back, neck, face, wherever.
Is he a shameless flirt who wants to love on you every moment of the day? Yes. Is he also a man with trauma that wants to be comforted but is too prideful to ask for help so he just wants your touch to ground him and intimacy is the only way he thinks he can do that? Also, yes.
#fourth wing#the empyrean#garrick tavis#tyrrish men headcanons you didn't ask for#iron flame#garrick taking up all the room in the bed and in our hearts
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the morning after - h.s.
a/n: so its soooo rare that i see what happens the day after a friendstolovers fic sooooo i wanted to make one but have it actually he realistic (lolol) so fhis is what that is. enjoyyy (also wrote this high as shit so if it doesnt make sense idk)
wc: 700 of fluff
Y/N rolled over in her bed, eyes clenched shut as she tried to adjust to the bright light shining through her curtains, her hair a mountain of frizz atop her head. She burrowed herself deeper into her pillow as she tried to hold onto the last bit of sleep she had, only to fail when she remembered what had happened last night.
She kissed him. She kissed Harry.
Her eyes shot open when she’d remembered what she’d done, her heart jumping out of her chest and making its way up to her throat. What was she going to do?
She gnawed on her lip as she got distracted in thought, trying to plan out how she was going to bring it up with Harry. But… there was no time like the present to rip off the bandaid, she guesses
Pushing her covers off of herself quickly, she marched to her door and threw it open before she could even regret it, the loud creak notifying Harry almost immediately that she was awake.
“Hey, princess!” Harry called from downstairs, making her nearly fall down the stairs.
“H-hi, H,” She stumbled, cursing herself when her voice broke. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, good,” he nodded, eyes still downward, watching the frying pan. “Wha’ about you?”
“Oh, good, yeah,” She cleared her throat, pulling out a stool at the counter to sit on. “Have any plans today?”
She was honestly surprised at how nonchalant she was being, especially with her best friend, who, not even 12 hours earlier, had his tongue down her throat.
“Umm, not that I can remember.” He shook his head, turning his head quickly to smile at her.
“Oh, cool, cool.” She said through a yawn. Fuck. So much for keeping cool. Now he probably thinks she’s bored of him.
A few beats of silence passed before Harry pushed the pan up to the back burners of the stove, turning to face her. “So?”
“So…” She continued.
“Y’gonna come over here and give me my morning cuddle, or wha’?” He held his arms out expectantly, almost annoyed that she hadn’t gone over to him in the 5 minutes she’s been in the kitchen.
“Oh, sorry,” She squeaked, hopping off the stool and making quick movements to get to her best friend. “Hiiii.”
“Hi, lovie,” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her neck tightly in a hug, his nose burrowed into the top of her head, inhaling her scent.
“Sorry I forgot about your cuddle,” She whispered, pressing the side of her face against his chest, her arms around his waist. “Didn’t mean to.”
She didn’t know how quite to feel. The fact that he hadn’t brought it up at all was stressing her out, because she didn’t know if she was supposed to. Or if he was waiting for her to bring it up like she was waiting for him to.
“‘S okay,” He promised, pressing a kiss to her head. “But, y’know how y’can make it up t’me?”
“How?”
“By givin’ me a kiss. Fact that y’making me wait s’long to taste your lips again after I was nearly insatiable last night feels a little mean t’me.”
“Oh!” She said, pulling back just enough to see his face. “I didn’t know if you remembered that or… or still wanted it.”
“Baby,” He sighed, walking them over to the couch and pulling her onto his lap. “I will always, always want you. I will always want this. Jus’ having you here, close— closer, just how I always wanted to? ‘S a fucking dream, baby,” He murmured, leaning in to just touch the tip of his nose to hers. “You’re a dream.”
And with that, he placed the softest of kisses to her unexpecting lips, humming in content. “I’ll always want you, and I’ll always need you.”
“Promise?”
“Til’ the day I die, sweet girl.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurb#harry edward styles#harry styles drabble#harry styles angst#harry styles fanfictions#harry styles imagines#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles au
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Pregnancy? 👀 Headcannons? 👀
Please say more.
((Also Hana I'm waiting for two of my asks to be answered wwraaaaaa 🦕))
I love how you guys always enable me 😂🤣💞💞
Apologies Anonie, I have a bunch of asks and I’m also a hoarder 😆 💞 it takes me a while to answer asks because: adult with low energy levels, sometimes I want to think more on an ask, some are quicker to answer than others, the muses have attacked me, etc. etc.
Curious though 👀 which other two asks? Was yours? I don’t think you labeled them with a “🦕” before 🤔 also do you want that as your name? (Unless you’re off anon, then that’s fine if you’re too shy or something 💞💞🫂🫂)
Hopefully in the meantime, these hormonal filled thoughts will do 🫡💞🫶 In hindsight, this is more horny than pregnancy headcanons lolol
Okay so these pregnancy headcannons are in a specific setting.
It’s in the past. (Are we surprised? 😆) You are transported before the fae vs human war. Meleanor and Levan are alive. Lilia is the Right General. And you? You are pregnant. (Think sometimes during first trimester)
You live in the castle with everyone the first week or so, but you’re not comfortable there. While there’s no war, not everyone looks favorably on humans. So, you were sent with Lilia to his cottage. Yes, that cottage. It was a gift by Maleficia to him for becoming the Right General. She gave it to him earlier since you arrived.
The cottage is different from what you remember. It’s not a home yet, but becomes one as the days pass by.
Lilia becomes accustomed to this peace with you. He’s nervous on how to treat you but he gets used to it. You are a big help calming his nerves.
(UTC for nsfwish, the real horny/hormonal thoughts, so stay away if uncomfortable. Also this is cliched but it’s me sooooo….lolol)
You’re pregnant and you’re horny. Great Sevens, are you frustrated. You pout and try not to let it show. You don’t want to make the General uncomfortable. He’s stubborn and it’s already hard on him with this whole situation.
The fae didn’t know that he could love for Great Seven’s sake! How could you tell him that you wanted to have sex with him? That you were hot and bothered and that he was the one making you this way. Those damn muscles. That sleek figure.
But he knows something is wrong and he asks you and you just…break down. Crying. Saying how you’re just sexually frustrated and you don’t want to hurt his feelings.
Lilia stays silent before plucking you and carrying you to the bedroom. He’s not blind. Do you know the restraint he’s had? You? Someone who loves him? Someone who treats him with such gentle touches. The one that can read him like a book. Whose smile haunts him even in his sleep?
Great Sevens, he was getting jealous of his future self because he has you. The current him? Had to hold back in respect for your wants and comfort. But then you tell him, you wanted him this whole time? His restraint? Gone.
He takes you to the bedroom. Lays you on top of him. You’re staring at him with wide eyes as Lilia tilts his forehead up against yours. Eyes half mast. Corner of his lips tugging upwards.
One hand slips into your hair and the other on your hip. “Go on. Show me. Teach me how to please you.”
He moves his hand and you gasp at how hard he is. You move your hips against his in the pace you prefer as he cups your cheeks. Swallowing your moans. Devouring you.
He won’t allow you to over do it though. He’s still hyper aware of the baby and he’s going to restrain himself back…after a round or two…
He going to make sure you eat and hydrate after for sure. Then both of you are going into the bathtub to soak.
I can see him even call a healer the next day if he left too many marks on you or he’s worried.
Some other domestic moments I thought of included:
Eating a strawberry and it leaves a stain on your lips. Lilia tilts your head up as he kisses you, “I’m addicted to your taste. Take responsibility.”
Shopping at the fae markets with him. You’re covered in a cloak, concealing you’re a human. The vendors are making fun of the General. He’s with a companion? That’s new. Come General, no need to be shy.
Lilia never thought he would want a family. A part of him even now still is confused. But to know in the future, he changes his mind? He can’t help but feel this hope, this yearning. And that surprises him even more, it’s something he’s always wanted but denies himself. During these moments, he just wraps his arms are you. Wishing for time to move quicker, so he could be in the present time with you.
As you see Anonie, this was more horny while pregnant than wholesome pregnant headcanons…whoops 😂😂 but as you can see, well you probably already knew, I am very not normal about him and I need him like I need my vitamins. Daily. 💞🫰🥰
#answered#Anonie ask#deflowered#twst smut#<- kind of?? maybe?? implied?? mostly lol#lilia vanrouge#general lilia vanrouge#general lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#twisted wonderland smut#lilia vanrouge smut#twst lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#twst scenarios
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Shoutaaaa x Little Reader!!!!
I have materialised, escaped the void if you will
Anyway a little Drabble Abt Shota discovering ur little side, oral fixation etc and how I like to think he would deal w it🥹 The feels were felt in this one tehe very daddy but also quite subtle I think ALSO SMUT WARNING LOLOL
Ignore the bad grammar lolz I haven’t written in ages lolol MINORS GO TF OUT AS USUAL 😍
Daddy Sho x secretly little reader (?)
Usually after an especially long day you and Shouta typically fuck out your frustrations, it’s slow and intimate at first but sooner than later you both pick up the pace. Sex quickly becomes hot and desperate as you both chased the relief of an inevitable orgasm. You of course had your own coping mechanisms, colouring, watching childhood cartoons and a slight oral fixation. This was of course well kept from Sho, you already felt insecure about your age gap, you didn’t want him to think you were any more immature that you may have been.
Today was different, albeit you didn’t realise until he was balls deep in you telling you what a ‘nasty slut’ you were. Usually you relished in being beneath him, letting him control you. You liked the feeling of helplessness that overcame you when he touched you after a day overthinking and honestly just thinking in general. However, today something snapped. It all felt too much, Shota’s strength felt scary, his words made you scared…upset. You couldn’t place it but you knew you hated it. Tears welled in your eyes, as your safe word left your lips in a muffled cry.
Of course he stopped immediately.
“Baby what’s wrong”
You couldn’t even begin to describe what was wrong, usually this was what you needed. How you needed him. But today you just felt mushy and vulnerable and small, in a different way. You dreaded the day that your secrets would intervene with your relationship. But it did, and today you didn’t want to be broken, instead you wanted to be treated delicately, by a handler to fearful to leave even the slightest scratch, scared of break you. But it was too many words, to many complex thoughts for your stupid little brain.
So instead of replying, the tears ramp up until your sobbing incoherent apologies. A confused Shouta starts to worry more,
“Babe, it’s fine it’s okay” and a million other comforts flow from his lips but still you can’t pinpoint the words to explain, to tell him what’s wrong.
“Pretty girl, does something hurt”
He moves you into his lap and began rocking you, almost like a baby, looking for any bruises and cuts. The simple back and forth was so soothing and as he watched you melt into his touch it clicks, this was what you wanted, this was how you needed him. As he watches you calm down, he realises it too. Your usual arrangement was off the table today and that was fine.
He had an inkling that you worked a little different to girls he had been with before, he knew you fell into a hazy and vulnerable mindset. He saw how you sucked your little thumbs when you were stressed and how you took to digital colouring pages when you thought he wasn’t looking. All these little things he thought were so cute but he let you engage in these thing so in your own time, as not to intrude. Although, today you needed help.
“Did my pretty girl need cuddles?” he coos softly
You nod in response his tone making you mind fuzzy. He rarely used this tone, and you were always too nervous to ask for more.
He notices you fiddle with his fingers
“Does babygirl need something from me”
You nod, unsure
He silently slips two fingers in your mouth. You suckle softly, humming in content, glad he understood what you wanted.
“Good girl, my baby works so hard, she deserves to come home and wrap up in my arms. That’s it baby, close your eyes”
You let your eyes fall shut
“Good girl daddy’s here”
Your tense slightly, you’d only ever used this term in the bedroom. But before you can react he hushes you, bouncing you on his knee.
“Shhh baby, go to sleep”
You would both have to talk about things in the morning. But for now he was happy to hush you to sleep, tracing circles on your back and petting you gently.
Me bc I WANT SHOTA AND THIS AND UGHHHHH TO BE LOVED AND ACCEPTED
Anyway look after ur selves beauties and drink water!!! Especially since it’s so hot
More mid writing soon lovelies
Love Flo🌸~
#bnha shouta aizawa#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa#aizawa#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa shota#shota aizawa#bnha aizawa#aizawa x reader#older aizawa has me in a DEATHGRIP I NEED HIM SO BAD#aizawa x you#aizawa x black reader#daddy aizawa#flowrites🌸#fanfic writing#bnha fic#bnha x reader#bnha fanfiction#bnha x you#bnha x fem!reader#aizawa smut#bnha#bnha smut#daddy!aizawa
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⚡️ “masterlist” ⚡️
welcome to my master list! my requests are: open! key: 🫧 - smut! / 🦋 - fluff! / 🦢 - angst! / 🕊️- dead dove!
🫧 “can’t sleep?” - elvis x fem! reader (part one of two)
summary: you’re lisa-marie’s best friend and you come over for a sleepover- but you can’t help but notice her dad has taken a liking to you…
🫧 “too purty…” - elvis x fem! reader (part two of two)
summary: the night before elvis had "taken care"of you in hopes to help you sleep, but he’s not done yet, he wants to take your virginity.
🫧🕊️ “last nerve.” - dom! elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis is tired of you talking back, so he’s gonna put you in your place.
🫧 “impatient.” - sub! elvis x fem! reader
summary: you’re too busy to help elvis out with his ‘issue’ so he tries to take care of it himself, but you catch him.
🫧 “poor thing” - dom! elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis catches you grinding on his pillow.
🫧 “grown” - elvis x fem! reader
summary: your dad and elvis are really close friends so when elvis invited your whole family over to graceland for the 100th time, you didn’t expect much more than another boring evening
🫧 “my boy” - sub! elvis x fem! reader
summary: short and sweet submissive elvis <3
🫧🕊️ “yungen” - stepdad! elvis x fem! reader
summary: after an argument with your mother, your stepdad, elvis, takes you out on a drive for some one on one time.
🫧🦋 “toothless” elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis wants to make sure you love him, even when he’s toothless.
🫧 “little sister” elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis is dating your big sister, but after he sees you much you’ve grown– he can’t help himself.
🫧🕊️ “corruption” elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis gets a chance to have you alone for a bit, so when he sees the chance to have you he takes it.
🫧 “needy” dom! elvis x fem! reader
summary: you can’t think straight when you're so sleep deprived n’ horny– but elvis knows what to do once he catches you grinding on his thigh.
🫧 “full” elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis wants to breed you.
🫧🦋“doll dizzy” elvis x fem! reader
summary: elvis invites you over to his newly purchased home, graceland, for a sleepover since he hasn’t seen you in so long- you’re just as perfect as he remembers.
🫧🕊️“goo goo muck.” elvis x fem! reader
summary: his bloodlust is getting harder to control, especially when he sees you late one night.
WIPS: two! —
how long do requests take?: depends on how many requests before you! i try and write each one i get but sometimes i hit a blank space and try to work on another. —
inspo: i listen to a lot of music while i write, i like noise it helps me concentrate lolol! —
taglist: commenting on any post associated with my fics and asking to be tagged will u get u tagged! —
last updated: 11/7/24
to anyone who reads: thank you so so much for ur support! it means so much to me and i love u so much <3 —
“all work featured is mine! please do not copy my work and put it anywhere or claim it as your own <3” — love, viv
#elvis#elvis presley#elvis presley x reader#elvis x reader#elvis presley x you#elvis x you#elvis smut#elvis presley smut#big daddy elvis#elvis aaron presley#elvis imagine#elvis x y/n#elvis x oc#masterlist#elvis presley imagine#elvis presley fanfic#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis presley x y/n#60s elvis#70s elvis#elvis the pelvis#young elvis presley#elvis the king#big daddy elvis smut#elvis 2022#elvisaaronpresley#50s elvis#elvis fans
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Omg pleaseeeeee do max and very very drunk Emilia. I feel like she is a very funny, dramatic, uncoordinated, extremely uncooperative drunk Lolol
Andddd we’re back. Because that quali deeply upset me and I needed a bit of comfort. It’s just Max being an absolute cutie really. I hope you like it!!!!
✨Set in the summer of 2022✨
Your eyes are liquor, (your) body is gold
Max jolts awake to the sound of his phone buzzing. He’s purposely put it in the ashtray on his beside table so that it would make noise. You said when you’d headed out ride the night that you would get a cab home since Lando would be in no state to drive you, but Max wanted to keep his phone on just in case.
He looks down at the screen. 2:37 AM. It’s a text from Stan. Maybe you’re home already and he didn’t hear you come in.
As if by some metaphysical connection, his phone starts buzzing with a call. Lando’s face lights up the screen.
“Hello?” Max says when he picks up, surprises by how he still sounds asleep. No response comes, only the deafening beat of some pretty aggressive remix of some song he doesn’t like. “Lando?”
“Mate,” Lando shouts, though Max barely hear him. “Thank God. Come and get your girlfriend,”
“She’s not-“
“I don’t care,” the background music quiets down some, Max guesses Lando has made it to the bathroom. “She’s wasted and I’ve just met a Lithuanian gymnast,”
It must be the exhaustion from a full day of sim practice and three phone interviews, but Max’s brain cannot connect the dots in Lando’s sentence “What?” He asks through a yawn.
“Come and get your girlfriend so I can get laid. Now.”
******************************
Max is in the car in five minutes. In fifteen, he’s pulling into the nearest parking spot to the club he can find. His body is still heavy with sleep, not even the can of Red Bull he drank in the car has helped. He gets out and heads towards the door, craning his neck to look for either you or Lando among the hoards of smokers lingering outside.
You’re sitting on the edge of a potted plant outside the building. You’re wearing a gold mini dress covered in crystals, so you’re not exactly hard to notice. A thin sheen of sweat covers your exposed skin. Your hair is a mess. Illuminated by the light spilling from the building behind you, you’re glittering.
When you look up and see him, a tired smile spreads across your lips and you wave.
“Maxy!”
He waves back awkwardly. He can tell even from where he’s standing that you’re wasted by the way your eyes are unfocused and your head is lolling around on your neck. He’s glad he kept his phone on, he wouldn’t want you in a cab in this state.
Beside you is Lando, standing with a blonde bombshell of a woman so perfect looking she must have been designed by a very famous surgeon. Lando catches Max’s eye and winks just as he comes to a stop in front of you.
“Maxy,” this time it’s more of a sigh, a hand running through your hair as your shoulders slump. You look around with a frown. “What are you doing here? Were you here the whole time?” You wave your arm in the direction of the club but the effort seems to tire you.
“No,” Max says, smoothing your hair for you. “I was at home, and now I’m here to take you home,”
“I don’t want to go home,” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. “I want to go to the beach,”
Max frowns in confusion, looking over at Lando for answer, who just shrugs. Max shakes his head and pulls you to your feet, hooking an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Thank you,” Lando says, rolling his eyes at you. He holds out his fist to Max.
“You,” Max says as he bumps Lando’s fist with his own, “are welcome,”
“Goodnight, my dear,” Lando says, leaning over to give you a sideways hug and a kiss to cheek.
“Tip her well,” you say to Lando, patting his chest as his eyes bulge.
Max coughs to hide his laugh. “Come on, let’s go before you mess something else up,” he says, bracketing you to his side as he begins to steer you towards the car.
“What did I mess up?” You ask, words slurring as you teeter on your heels, legs crossing with every step. “Did I mess up your evening?”
“No,” Max says, squeezing your waist. His night wasn’t ruined, just his sleep schedule.
“Were you like,” you lean closer to him, your voice dropping to a whisper, “masturbating?”
Max chokes on air. “No!” He rasps out, struggling to keep walking. He almost lets go of you out of sheer awkwardness before he remembers you likely need him to remain upright, especially if you’re talking like this.
“Just asking,” you say, and Max has to imagine your eye roll because he absolutely cannot look at you right now. “That’s what I do when you’re not home,”
Add this to the long list of things I did not want to know, Max thinks to himself. He thinks he might never be able to keep sane while out of the house now.
“Your showerhead has this amazing setting-“
Max is almost glad when you trip while stepping off the pavement as he leads you to the passenger side of the car because it makes you stop talking. He knows you prefer the showerhead in his en-suite, he’d been planning to get your bathroom redone so you could have the same one. Oh God. How would it look if he does that now after you’ve said that? How would it look if he doesn’t?
He resolves to never think about that comment ever again.
“Up you go,” he says, guiding you up into the car, one hand on your head in case you don’t duck. Your body flops into the seat and Max tucks your legs in for you. He finds himself a little annoyed with Lando for letting you get in this state.
He peels out of the parking and down the street, yawning as he drives. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you sink down in the seat and turn on the seat heater.
There’s a surprising amount of traffic on the road. But summer in the Petri dish that is Monaco is always too busy.
“Are we going to the beach?” You asks, sliding up to look out of the window.
“No,” Max scoffs at the idea.
“But I said I wanted to go to the beach,” you drawl, a pensive look on your face.
“It’s night time,” Max explains.
“Um,” you narrow your eyes at him like you’re doubting something. “Since when do you not do what I want?”
Max isn’t sure what to say to that. Sure, he can’t remember the last time he said no to something you wanted but that was circumstantial. He wanted you to be happy, and god knows he owed you for all the space he took up in the world. But that didn’t make him a pushover. No, it just made him a good friend.
“I don’t always-“ He starts, but then your hands pull one of his off the steering wheel, and he watches as you rest it in your lap.
“Whoa. Your wrist is big,” you say wondrously, trying to touch your thumb to your middle finger around Max’s wrist.
When you can’t, you trace the veins the slightly swollen veins in his arm, your fingernails grazing his skin. It tickles, and Max fights the urge to move, even when you bend his fingers back with yours to opens his palm. He keeps glancing over at you, wondering what you see. You’re looking at his hand like there are words written on his skin.
“I need my hand,” he says after a while, only because there’s a vague thought in his head that if there were something written on him, it’s not something he’d want you to read.
“Nope.” You say simply, slotting your fingers into his and turning to look out the window.
My God, this woman.
He drives the rest of the way with one hand, using your linked fingers to turn on the indicator at every turn.
By the time he parks up in the underground garage, you’re half asleep, blinking awake only when Max turns off the car. He gets out and goes round to your side before you’ve even moved.
“Are we home already?” You rub your eyes, adjusting to the harsh lighting.
“Yeah,” Max says as you slide out of the car. One of your ankles bends in your heel and stumble into Max. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m good. I’m-“ you try to stand straight and immediately wince. “Ow,”
Max rolls his eyes and crouches down. “Sit down.” He instructs, and for once you just do what he says, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the car floor while Max busies himself with sliding your heels off your feet. He hears you mumbling about a headache but he doesn’t respond.
One thing at a time, please.
“Better?” He asks you, and you nod. That is, until you try to stand again.
“Ow,”
Watching you hop on one foot, Max lets out a loud sigh. It’s only when he sees tears pooling in your eyes that all his irritation evaporates.
“Come here,” he sighs, and when you hobble into him, he grips your waist and lifts, chuckling at your startled squeak. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,”
You wrap your legs around his waist, and he struggles to find an appropriate place to hold you without touching you. He settles for placing his arm all the way underneath you in a way that is extremely painful for him but decidedly the least inappropriate.
Not that it seems like you would care. You’re mumbling nonsense into his neck, swinging your shoes so that the heels poke into his back, blissfully unaware as Max carries you into the lift, straining to push the button for the penthouse.
You lift your head from Max’s neck mid sentence, just as the lift starts to move. “…but I just hate cheeseboards and so it would always be doomed,” you babble, leaning back a little so you can look Max in the eye. “You know?”
Max doesn’t know. He has no idea. He’s missed the whole story that’s got you to talking about cheese and even if he had heard, he can’t really concentrate with you wrapped around him like a koala.
“Uh-“ he stammers, forcing himself to maintain eye contact while he tries to think of something to say. You stare at him blankly, “I don’t-“
“Your eyes are so…” you trail off, head tilting as you stare. Max watches your lips part, waiting for something, anything. “Blue,”
He husks out a laugh, and you just keep staring at him, unaware of what you’ve said.
You rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath. “It’s a weird feeling,” you say wistfully. “Is this what it feels like in the car? Like you’re flying?”
Before Max can ask what you mean, he feels you curl in on him, you arms gripping him tighter, and the question dies on his lips.
A few seconds later the lift opens into your apartment, and Max gently eases you to the floor.
“You’re on your own now,” he says, but you’re already stumbling into the hallway, tiptoeing past his trainers and padel bag as Jimmy appears to greet you.
“Kitty!” You squeal, heading towards him. As if he can sense your altered state, the car turns around and hightails it towards Max’s bedroom. You turn to Max with a pout. “Ew. Why does he hate me?”
“He doesn’t-“
“I’m hungry,”
Of course you are.
“I don’t think anything is open right now,”
“But I’m starving. Look, you can see my bones,” you whine, and before Max can even process your words you pull your dress straight over your head.
“Oh, fuck-“
Max slaps his hand over his eyes so fast he hurts his nose. He turns around for good measure, and even that doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t even feel like he should be in the room.
“Sweater,” is all he manages to say as he shrugs out of his zip up hoodie. He holds it in your direction, one hand back over his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Sweater,” Max repeats, violently shaking the hoodie in your direction. “Sweatshirt. Please put on the sweatshirt,”
“I’m wearing pasties, you pervert,” you say through a laugh, but Max still doesn’t uncover his eyes because he’s not sure that nipples would be the entirety of the problem.
Eventually he feels you tugging on the shirt and he lets out a sigh of relief when he hears you zip it up. When he opens his eyes and turns around, you’re smiling at him in a way that is so patronising he wants to crawl into a hole.
“I’m still hungry,” you huff out, crossing your arms.
Sometimes Max remembers why he used to dislike you.
He sighs again. “Sit over there,” he says, nodding to the couch. “I’ll heat something up,”
You flash him a toothy grin and now he really remembers why he used to dislike you.
He watches you flop down on the couch and turn on the tv, flipping through channels while takes a container of mushroom tagliatelle out of the fridge and sticking it in the microwave for you. You make weird sounds of displeasure - something akin to a depressed goat - at everything that comes on tv, and Max fights the urge to comment. He picks up your dress while he waits for the food to hear, so that the cats don’t get to it, and leaves it folded on the hall table.
He perversely relishes the moments where he gets to be the grown up out of the two of you.
Eventually the microwave beeps and he put the pasta in a bowl before joining you in the living room. You look up at him from under the hood of his sweatshirt, a smile splitting your face.
“I love you,” you say as you take the bowl, and Max smiles. Maybe your drunk personality isn’t so bad.
“I love you, too,”
You giggle. “I was talking to the pasta,” you tell him, giggling again at the look on his face.
Max settles onto the couch beside you, the exhaustion finally taking over his body. He doubts he’ll make it to bed tonight. He can already feel his eyelids getting heavy.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” it’s a whisper into the nonexistent space between you, and Max just makes a sound of acknowledgement through the haze of fatigue. “That was for you, not the pasta,”
“Thank you for clarifying,” he murmurs, not even opening his eyes, though he doesn’t remember closing them.
“And I do love you. Like…like coming up in the lift,” your voice seems further away now, and he can’t tell whether the gentle lilt is because he’s tired, or you are. He can’t understand what you mean, and once again he wants to ask, but his lips don’t move. Maybe he doesn’t need to know.
All he knows is that he can feel the heat of your skin next to his. You’re home. You’re safe. He can rest now.
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I found your page a couple of days ago and i love all your stories. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the amount of Rúben dias requests you're about to receive from me 😂I would like to request something with ruben like oc is heavily pregnant and craving something weird (whatever weird this that comes into your mind lol) and he is laughing and teasing her about it lol, and oc us having non of it. Make it fluffy please 🥺
Thank you so much in advance
cravings
craving during pregnancy is something we all are aware of, rúben even looks forward to it from the moment you broke down the news you were expecting. but what if you ask for something he doesn’t even know it exists?
rúben dias x you part of dad!rúben collection
wc: 2k
note: something that’s been sitting way too long in the vault because of the research I had to do about this but only now finished bcs I had spurts of inspiration suddenly so surprise, surprise it’s a double update! LOLOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet!
“gatinha,”
at your whisper, rúben stirred from his sleep. his eyes immediately spotted the clock on the bedside table. the numbers drawn 3:00 in the big, fat analogue font across the screen.
“uh, what is it?” being the alert husband he was, he turned around to face you in no time. “is there something you need?
you were already seated on the edge of the bed, meaning you had just finished from your early morning toilet trip. ever since you became pregnant, the little trip was a new routine for you—and maybe the majority of other pregnant women in general, and everyone around him who had become fathers before him had warned the footballer to watch where the mother was going.
that, and the last thing he needed was for you to slip somewhere when he wasn’t watching, when he couldn’t be any help for you. rúben and you had been waiting for your very own rainbow baby for years, so when you were granted one, it was within his most important priority list to make sure both you and the child—whose gender was still unknown yet; not even born yet and they already resembled your shy nature—happy and safe.
“are you okay?”
you didn’t hide your fascination towards the man in front of you, hair disheveled and eyes blurry with drowsiness. 5 years of marriage and you still found him endearing, even more so when he was now turning protective and alert all the time, borderline the leader of a pack with the appearance similar to a mother hen.
“i am, don’t you worry,” you said, your hands stroking the side of his face, feeling the little hairs growing to become stubbles in near future. “but i’m starving.”
ah… the infamous early morning craving.
you had never personally asked of anything alike before, contrary to what everybody else had been advising rúben that there would be a time where you would be craving something eventually in a very ridiculous time of a morning. four months in, and you were yet to show any signs of it so rúben naturally thought you were going to be an exception case. but look where they were now.
with a smile so apologetic for having to wake him up like that, rúben melted into the warmth your smile exuded. “of course, meu anjo. should i get my keys?”
rúben might be many things but you didn’t believe one chance that he was a psychic. “do you even know what i want to eat?”
“uh, mcdonalds?”
in any other time, you would’ve laughed at his meek attempt to guess your mind. given t was early in the morning, mcdonalds was supposedly a reasonable choice since it was open 24/7.
but you did not, in under any circumstances, want to touch your feet nearby that chain of foul fast food. besides, you were pregnant. didn’t your husband consider that the unhealthy intake of food would do no good for their baby?
rúben must’ve noticed the change in your demeanour. “did i say something wrong, my love?”
“yes, don’t assume anything you don’t know of.”
ah… this one rúben was familiar, the rapid change of your mood he had his money run for the fastest rollercoaster on earth, so he apologised instantly and asked you again what you wanted.
“remember the time when we travelled to asia?”
“you mean, our honeymoon?”
oh, you were so not having your husband being mr. i-know-it-all. “one more of that and i’m walking out.”
the threat was enough to make rúben circle around the bed before kneeling down in front of your frowning figure. not because he was a loser, but because he knew you might actually do it. you had a capability to do it, you always do, which was why he was drawn to you in the first place.
but he didn’t want a runaway wife, pregnant on top of that, so he quickly apologized again. “what about it, baby?”
“i want durian.” *✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
what on earth is durian?
rúben sighed as he stared at his phone, the screen frozen helplessly for how many tabs he’d opened up in the browser. he rubbed his face rather roughly, due to the frustration, as he sat on the cover of the toilet and pondered his life choices and its respective life expectancies.
no one—literally no one—had warned him about the effect of any slip of tongue around a pregnant woman.
you were the calmest person he’d ever met, never wanting to bite off someone else’s head because it drained your precious energy. which rúben agreed to, and had been a devoted student of yours in terms of anger management on and off the field. but it was getting very hard to keep his own composure intact when you even lost yours.
ironically, rúben realised that one of you should still stay sane for the sake of everyone in this household, now inclusive of the unborn baby and it didn’t look like it was going to be you anytime soon.
so realistically, he couldn’t say to you that he didn’t remember a thing—not even an ounce of it—that you both had seen the fruit in question during your honeymoon. according to you, though, you both were even mesmerized by the look but decided that the possibility of dying because of the foul smell was larger than the delicious taste. as a result, when was the best time to try the exotic fruit than now, at 3.30 AM, when you were nearing the fifth month of pregnancy?
thus, his final resort to the internet, hoping for a miracle in the amount close to how much he needed to create the apple of his eyes with you.
but of course, the search engine didn’t show anything that could help him save his own lifeline this early morning from a pregnant wife that was so ready to stab the knife to his chest. the best option rúben got was to visit chinatown and head to the fruit market.
with a particular note from a lovely reviewer that the fruit was subject to a particular season—durian season, as the asians called it. if you were to seek for the spiky fruit beyond the particular calendar, then you either (i) got one that tasted as foul as it smells, or (ii) came home empty handed.
but of course, you wouldn’t get it, would you? rúben had already had it in his head you were going to wail at how incredulous his justifications are—what the hell is a durian season? we have spring, summer, autumn and winter and not durian! he could imagine—and would accuse him of trying to get his way out of the hard labour of satisfying you craving. worse, you’d scream out rúben should be responsible for this because he was the one who knocked you up and not vice versa.
other times, the footballer would just laugh it off. even at first, he did so and thought you were the cutest thing in his life, an actual living plushie. now, he just didn’t know what to do…
“what takes you so long?”
rúben jumped slightly at the question thrown at him from behind the door, the only thing separating him and his thoughts with the rest of the world and their expectation towards him. “nothing, meu anjo. i’ll be out in a minute.”
“good, because we gotta go. i’m sleepy already but the baby needs to eat.”
the husband closed his eyes once more, regulated his breathing, visualizing the flow of his breath before letting them out slowly—just the way you taught him how—before coming out of the loo. “baby, can i ask you one thing?”
you looked up, and rúben felt bad because you were already dressed and ready to go out and fight the coldness of an early morning. “what is it?”
“what if we go and have the durian in the morning?”
“rúben, it’s already morning now,” you clicked your tongue impatiently. “what are you saying?”
“i have a place to go already but they’re only open later at 8.”
and pregnant silence fell upon them, no puns intended.
“why at 8?”
“because that’s when the market opens,” rúben sat again in front of you, his hands were rubbing the back of your hand and on top of your knees respectfully. “i’m afraid we’ll have to go to chinatown to get them and it’s only open then.”
rúben was so ready with your fit, so he was rather surprised to hear you answer, “okay.”
okay?
okay?!
okay!
good god, the mood swing had returned it honestly felt like rúben had just jumped off the cliff with bungee jumping.
*✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿**✿❀○❀✿*
rúben was the one not okay that morning.
you turned out to opt out sleeping that night, despite being cuddled by your husband—which was your favourite way to go to sleep, even faring better than being lullabied—but rúben forgot you were living your life for two people for these nine months, so you still had a bar of energy and excitement while he had to drag his feet to the en suite bathroom.
you were literally counting in seconds as to when you’d get to the chinatown. your legs were involuntarily shaking from excitement, while he’d become more sensitive due to the lack of sleep (per his standard). as soon as the car stopped at the parking lot, you ran to the nearest entrance and lost yourself in quest to find the fruit. it wasn’t even 8 AM yet.
rúben had to call and asked you to share your live location, in case you were lost. but you were already moving in a pace so different than those mothers he’d gotten to know lately due to the parenting class, there was no way he could catch up.
“where are you?” as soon as his phone rang, he picked up, panting from the endless count of steps inside a huge market. “i cannot find you.”
coincidentally, you happened to call rúben in order to tell him that you were going to line in a queue to a small shop selling imported exotic fruits. the small hadn’t been open, yet there was already a waiting list, and in your dictionary of words it should only mean that the said shop was relevant to be called the local’s favourite.
“there you are,” rúben was about to comment
like a lucky charm, they were called in to make their purchase not long after.
you had your eyes already set on durian, so when the uncle asked if you wanted to eat at that place or bring home a peeled one, you didn’t hesitate to have them immediately. besides, you didn’t know how to split durian into two and whatnot.
“oh my god, so damn good!” you didn’t waste a minute to dance your little moves that you made to indicate you’re happy at that moment. “i can eat this every day for the rest of my life!”
good god, please help me.
“you should try, baby!” you were so excited to share your happiness with your husband, one hand holding a tiny bit of yellow and ready to be shoved into rúben’s mouth. who could deny such endearing request? “you’ve never had one before!”
and that was also the last time rúben had a bite of that yellow, mushy inside of durian. apart from the smell, he decided he didn’t like the texture and the bitter aftertaste.
but that was him. you, on the other hand, were munching the fruit as if it was going to be your last time seeing that scarce fruit. it appalled rúben too even at the length and amount you could eat in one seating. and looking at that, seeing you were this elated, it also made him full—in every sense of the word, literally and figuratively.
when you were done with the last chunk, you grinned at him, rather sheepishly. maybe you were drunk from the fruit, maybe you were shy because you just let out one hell of an appetite. “thank you for coming here with me.”
“anytime, my love, but we’re not doing this again. okay, meu anjo?” rúben wiped your fingers one by one from the sticky texture, internally wincing at the stinky smell. “promise me that.”
“sim, meu amor.”
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