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parfaitblogs · 5 days

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fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end. word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be.

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all.

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not.

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide.

And then he was free.

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished.

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened.

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break.

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again.

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit.

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was.

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be.

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry.

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming.

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened.

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped.

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed.

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again.

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more.

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him.

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

You couldn't complain.

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch.

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body.

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later.

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind.

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you.

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin.

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered.

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face.

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up.

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away.

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?"

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again.

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up.

"Lots of people say oral," he defended.

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head."

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping.

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping.

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so.

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?"

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose.

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests.

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter.

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him.

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him.

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have.

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded.

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone.

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat.

He liked to hear you.

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either.

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face.

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest.

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?"

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body.

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time.

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make.

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit.

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin.

"Touch myself?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again.

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head.

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again.

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you.

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you.

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could.

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more.

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it.

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin.

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't.

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling.

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome.

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were.

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to.

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating.

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered.

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after.

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after.

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck.

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter.

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again.

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there.

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips.

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking.

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here.

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more.

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move.

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move).

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second.

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled.

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little.

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again.

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure.

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were.

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots.

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever.

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that.

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever.

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly.

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared.

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely.

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone.

Thankfully, you didn't have to.

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee.

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub.

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt.

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless.

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways.

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach.

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh.

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face.

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort.

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes.

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

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starlitscars · 10 days

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Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state.

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life.

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him.

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now.

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for.

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva.

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you.

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt.

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubles thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer.

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road.

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap.

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth.

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share.

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..."

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you.

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world.

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time.

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that.

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more.

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly.

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons.

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sende it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings.

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He think that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #the last of us #joel miller smut #tommy miller #ellie miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

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cheapshrimpysheep · 11 months

Text

Meaningful Kiss

SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses?

CHARACTERS: OB students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)

TAGS: Bullet Points; Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship, Kissing, Flirting, Slightly Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

COMMENTS: This has been a WIP for so long that I don't even remember how I got the idea to write it. And in my case, being a WIP for a long time means that I wrote one part and then went on to write something else and ended up forgetting about this one for a long time. 😅 But now I've finished it.

I hope you enjoy 💋

Meaningful Kiss 2 (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek)

Meaningful Kiss 3 (Ruggie, Jade, Kalim, Silver, Lilia)

Meaningful Kiss 4 (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook)

CONTEXT: You two are in an established relationship already.

Riddle is not really the PDA type. The most he would do with you in public could be walk arm in arm like you were royalty. In terms of kisses, a kiss on the back of your hand or, at the most, on your cheek.

When the two of you are alone on a normal day, he will probably be working on his student and Housewarden duties. But whenever you tell him he should take a break, he'll get up, sit next to you and hug you, like you're a charger.

If you're relaxing together, he’ll be reading a book with one arm around you. Either around your shoulders or around your waist, which you told him you like the most. He’ll also laying his head on your shoulder.

The most meaningful kisses are, of course, the kisses on your lips. He's not the type to kiss you on the lips just like a "good morning" thing. These kisses are always sweet and lovely. His hands would be on your cheeks to caress them.

He needs you, but his kisses aren't needy. They are the caring type. You are his precious rose. In contrast to his strict self, the way he shows you that he loves you is through soft affection and care.

A relationship with Leona Kingscholar comes with your rights and duties. Some of your rights: He will buy you things; you’re allowed to pet his ears; he will be your protector and you can sleep with him in his comfy bed and have breakfast in bed (he ordered someone to bring it to you two)

Some of your duties: let him use you as a pillow (be it your thighs in the greenhouse or your chest in bed.); don't be too annoying to him; dealing with his “smugness” on a daily basis and being his and his alone, the same way he's yours.

He's kinda into PDA, but more in the sense of telling anyone who might look at you with interest that you're his. Or anyone who looks down on you that if they do the slightest thing against you they will have to suffer at his claws. If the other person is a friend of yours, he'll let it go.

He has at least two types of kisses. The first is the “make out” kisses. When you're alone and he wants you (if you want him at the time too of course), he would give you deep kisses, kiss your neck and run his hands over you. Either he would make you sit on his lap our make you lie down with him.

His real meaningful kisses are the second ones. The "lazy" kisses. The first ones are linked to his pride. These second ones are much more affectionate. Usually happen when he's still sleepy, like when he just woke up from a good nap. He may lazily put his arms around you and kiss your cheek, neck, or shoulder gently. This is perhaps the most vulnerable state he will let you see. And so it will only happen in private.

Azul is also not very adept at PDA, but he is still capable of putting an arm around you and kissing your cheek to show how well he takes care of you.

He's already quite charming and pleasant with his potential clients, so with you it's not much different in public. The only difference is that with you it's genuine.

Do I need to say that dating him is like dating a Mafia Boss? AKA: Nobody disrespects my loved ones, unless they want a certain head in their beds when they wake up. (reference to The Godfather)

Being alone with him on a normal day would probably be being with him in his VIP room at Mostro Lounge. You're sitting on one of the couches while he's dealing with his paperwork. He’s probably the type that likes to be teased a little. So, when you see that he is no longer that attentive to the papers, go up to him, play with his hair, kiss his cheek, that will put him in the mood for you.

He’s the opposite of Leona. The kisses he usually gives you are sweet and charming like him. Because that's the side of him he want to show you the most. He'll kiss your cheek and lips affectionately. Let you sit on his lap. The side he most wants to show you is the confident and caring side. The one who shows you that you can trust him and that he will take care of you.

His most meaningful kiss is the opposite. The one related to his needy side. He shows you his most vulnerable side when he is the one who needs you. And that's what everything he does shows you. His kisses, his hugs, his begging look, all screaming “I need you! Please don’t leave me.”

Jamil is completely against PDA! He doesn't like to stand out or draw attention and PDA always do that to the people involved. He won't hold your hand or kiss you. To the point where no one knows if you're even dating or not.

The only way he would show his affection for you in public is if that is a way to protect you. If someone looks down on you and he feels that that persons can be a threat to you, he will show that he is an even greater threat to them. In these moments, his protective side is stronger. He is Kalim's protector by obligation, but yours by free will.

It's when you're alone that he'll make up for his lack of affection of the day. On a normal day, you would be alone in the kitchen. He would probably be cooking for Kalim, but making something for you two as well. He’ll let you taste things as he cooks. He feels more relaxed when he's with you and even more so when you hug him.

When you're relaxing together, he would spoil you. Give you soft and sweet kisses. Pet your head and play with your hair. Give you massages and feed you things like grapes or small snacks. Or even taking the first mouthful of food he made for you to your mouth and seeing your delighted face.

The most meaningful gestures of affection he shows you are related to his most lustful side (lust for power) when you are the one spoiling him. The one moment in his life where he is no longer the servant, but the master. This time, he kisses your lips, your neck and everything he's entitled to. He tends not to show his feelings but with you he will show how much he loves you and how much he wants you.

In reality, Vil neither likes nor dislikes PDA. He's kind of indifferent to it. The only reason he doesn't do it with you is because it would have bad consequences for both of you for his work as an actor and model. The most he can do is walk hand in hand with you.

Even though he doesn't show it much in public, everyone will know that you two are dating. He'll make sure of it, even if it's just information on the internet or him straight out saying it. On the one hand to protect you, because only an idiot would try to mess with Vil Schoenheit's partner. On the other hand to discourage anyone who has the slightest interest in you. “Honey, they’re with me. Do you really think you can even get to my heels? So, don't bother them.”

The only possible problem for you is that he's going to be more strict now that you're dating. From the outside it looks like he can be mean and demanding with you. But the truth is, he wants you to look your best so people know why he fell in love with you. He wants others to see on the outside how beautiful you are on the inside.

But of course, sometimes it's too much and you'll challenge him. Be stubborn and carefree. The best part? He's so into it! Your way of teasing each other.

He kisses you every now and then when you're alone. But when you put him on this mood, all his affection mix with boldness intensifies. Oh, of course, you wanted him to remind you what the reward is for listening to him. The answer is: appreciating you with the rest of his senses, sensual kisses on your lips, jaw, neck and shoulders; his hands running over your body, him delighting in your wearing the perfume he made for you. He'll show you how beautiful you are to him.

PDA is not even an option! There is no way! Na-a! Listen, Idia loves you, really, he promises BUT going with you to places where couples usually go is already a lot and holding hands is the absolute most he can do. IF that even happens.

He wouldn’t be the jealous type. If someone shows an interest in you, at least they have good taste. But if someone looks down on you or goes so far as to disrespect you, then he goes from 0 to 100. Do these worms know he can hack them? exposing things that can completely ruin their lives until the day they pass through the gates of the underworld? Ortho can help protect you in the meantime.

Since he is a 0 to 100 guy, his kisses are the same. His "0" kisses are lazy. Mainly light, on your shoulder and neck, because you would be sitting on his lap, chest to chest, while he plays on his PC and you on your phone on his back. He also gives you casual "hi" and "bye" kisses on the lips.

Then there is his "100" kisses. Those are the real meaningful kisses, the "I love you" kisses. They are passionate but kind. Because loving you is different for loving a game, it's like he found his balance. they are not needy, but appreciative, the real embodiment of "OMG, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" He also becomes bolder as he feels comfortable with you. He loves to tease you until he makes you shut him up with a kiss. The stronger your relationship is, the more daring and smug he will be.

Malleus is quite indifferent to PDA. However, he is not the type to initiate the exchange of affection, but he is the type to reciprocate it. He won't kiss or hug you out of nowhere. But if you kiss or hug him, he will definitely reciprocate.

And he's going to be extremely casual about it. I mean, it's two lovers interacting with each other. As young humans would say: What's the big deal? However, he still distinguishes between the affection he gives you in public and the affection he gives you in private.

In public, his hugs are polite, and his kisses are light but loving.

In private, what he wants most is simply to be with you. He loves it when you sit on his lap and he cuddles you, and he likes it even more when you cuddle him back. He maintains his composure quite well, but you know that just your kisses on his checks already melt him inside.

His regular kisses in privet are sweet, loving, showing you that you are the most precious thing in his life. And very recurrent. He may not be the type to initiate the exchange of affection in public, but he certainly is in private.

All his kisses are meaningful, but the most meaningful of all are the one he gives you on your lips while smiling. The kind of kiss he can't stop himself from giving you. You may not even notice when they happen, because you are simply being yourself.

He feels the need to kiss you passionately when you do something that reminds him of why he fell in love with you. The moments when you do something that may seem simple, but for him it is something extraordinary. And if you don't realize at first how incredible that small gesture can be for him, it only makes you more charming.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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miraclewoozi · 5 months

Text

SPECTACLE. -j.ww

in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.

content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.

Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.

You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up.

He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb.

Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he��s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.

You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.

“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why.

It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.

“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once.

You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.

“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”

You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.

“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”

You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression.

Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.

“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time.

“Are you s–?” You start to ask.

Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly.

And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy.

It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel.

It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.

When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”

“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”

“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh.

The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes.

But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away.

You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.

“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.

“What if they break?”

“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”

You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.

“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“I said, sit.”

His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.

“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”

He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.

“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”

Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.

“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”

So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.

He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.

When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.

“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you.

“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”

“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.

“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”

thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #*#j writes.#this is the best title i've ever given anything and if you disagree. argue with the wall #i'm fucking hilarious. anyway don't perceive me.#taking myself to horknee jail right this second

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maplesyrupsainz · 7 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙MY girl | LN4˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x celeb interviewer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: a couple of innuendos/sexual references but mainly fluff

summary: in which your job has your boyfriend acting up every other week

a/n: this is kind of short but didnt think it was necessary to make it any longer!?! hope u luv it (i love jealous lando omg my heart cant take itttt)

request!!!: Lando’s gf is a celebrity interviewer like Amelia from chicken shop date and Lando is supportive but also playfully jealous?

fc: amelia dimdoldenburg

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 london

liked by aitch, landonorris, and 1,718,293 others

yourusername spent a day in london with my fav british rapper @.aitch !! episode out now hope u enjoy 👀

tagged: aitch

view all 18,284 comments

user1 OMG he was flirting with her so bad

user2 no fr she got a man

user3 yea and her man is LANDO NORRIS likeeee

user4 why are they lowkey cute together.....

user5 i love everything y/n does

user6 does anyone else only watch the series just for y/n idec about the celebrity guests 💀

user7 no coz this is actually so valid

user8 omg i've been waiting for this one

user9 queue lando marking his territory soon

user10 can u blame him

f1wags

liked by user4, user5, user9, and 43,761 others

f1wags new episode of y/n y/l/n's celeb interview series with british rapper aitch out now 🫶 for anyone who doesn't know, y/n (wag of lando norris) is a celebrity interviewer for events & tv as well as having her own series online in which she “dates” someone for the day, usually in a random city of their choice, and interviews them at the same time in a comedic way !!! the series is super popular, who would you like to see her interview?

view all 5,174 comments

user11 we love her

user12 her interviews r sooo funny and unserious

user13 i want her to interview f1 drivers 😭

user14 omg rightttt imagine lando on there

user15 i want oscar or charles 😂

user16 i didnt even know she was a wag

user17 she's more relevant that her bf HE's the wag

user18 justice for my guy lando

aitch

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 853,903 others

aitch watch me on y/n y/l/n's series for real like that's my girl

tagged: yourusername

view all 12,284 comments

user19 damn

user20 his girl?!

user21 y/n looks so hot

user22 look like a couple fr

yourusername had the best time, thanks for coming on the show!!!

aitch anything 4 u

user23 🤭🤭🤭

user24 CUTIESSS

user25 one of my fav episodes so far

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 822,182 others

user30 omg i screamed

user31 SHE'S SOOO HOTTTT

carlossainz55 somebody's jealous

landonorris of what?

carlossainz55 😂

user32 lando norris you are one lucky man

yourusername omg hello mr protective

landonorris my girl

yourusername you are freaking sexy

landonorris where are you right now

yourusername 👀

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,021,843 others

landonorris hey

view all 33,826 comments

user33 "HEY"????

user34 omg

user35 HOTTTTTT

carlossainz55 still not jealous?

landonorris not sure what you're talking about!

user36 you caused this @.aitch

aitch nah

landonorris no

yourusername 🙂

user37 posting this with this caption is criminal

user38 hahaha our jealous boy

user39 little lando norris is jealoussss

yourusername hahah i love you and only you

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 713,028 others

landonorris yup. that's MY girl

THE END 🧡

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 smau #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #lando x reader #maddie's smau

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primatechnosynthpop · 2 years

Text

Heheh

#here it is folks. i'm finally writing this for real #meguca on the rock #<- see i've already got a well-established tag for this au and everything. this has been a long time coming #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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landograndprix · 9 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞

part one - part ii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Everything seems to be going right and life seems amazing, at least to the others..not for you.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ this came to me as I was running a high fever, stop judging me..i also needed a charles fic here, No lando in this one yet, Charles ain't a real good partner and google translate is my bestest friend

➽────────────────────────❥

charlesgirlies

liked by 456 others

charlesgirlies Charles and Zoë in y/n's story today 🥰

view all 189 comment

cahlossainz oh

chilisainz oh my god I'm dead 😭

↳ bott_ass bestie same

charles16 she needs to keep feeding us dad Charles please!!

leclerc_16 volunteering to be his baby mama

lanlan Zoë is just the cutest little bean 🥰

↳ charlesgirlies she is! 🥰

lanlan lil cutie like her mom :)

charlesgirlies and her dad!

charloslesainz y/n living my dream life 😭

landoscar I just know zoë has Charles wrapped around her finger

yukisan didn't know y/n and charles were together let alone have a kid 😂

↳ clsixteen have you been living under a rock? It was a big scandal when they were seen together 5 years ago?? 😭

yukisan I'm new so i dont have all the lore, just thought they were friends because they both come from Monaco 😅

leckerkcharles y/n the predator and her victims

mrsleclerc love that there's still people in the comments being mad about them dating 💀

↳ carlandooo for real it's been 5 years people and charles is not little sauber Charles anymore 🤡

charlesgirlies people be acting like y/n is 40 years older than charles

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Sicily, italy

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 369,989 others

y/nusername babes big day out 🏖

tagged: noellepicard, manon_roux

view all 1,111 comments

noellepicard she's a little mermaid 🧜🏻‍♀️

charlesssss I can't, she's the cutest 😭

charles_leclerc princesse ❤️

↳ charloslesainz stop it, he's such a girl dad imma throw up

hamilt44n man is made to be a dad honestly

manon_roux lucky to have the prettiest girls in the world with me 🥰

↳ joris__trouche je n'ai pas reçu mon invitation? (i didn't get my invite)

y/nusername probablement parce que je n'en ai pas envoyé :) (probably because i didn't send one)

joris__trouche comportement inacceptable (unacceptable behaviour)

charles_leclerc Joris est une des filles maintenant 😂 (joris is one of the girls now)

y/nusername Je devrais lui acheter une mini-jupe et des talons hauts pour nos prochaines vacances :') (should buy him a mini skirt and some high heels for our next vacation)

manon_roux j'aimerais voir cela se produire 🤣 (i'd love to see that happen)

joris__trouche j'aurais l'air sexy et tu ne peux pas le nier (i'd look sexy and you can't deny it)

sharl16 no idea what they're saying but I agree 😭

landoscar her little feeties 🥺

leclerc_16 am I the only one who finds it strange that they haven't been together this summer break?

↳ carlosleclerc they were bestie, they spend time together with friends in Monaco last week..they're both on their girls and boys vacation..pretty normal

leclerc_16 oh I've missed that part..still something feels off

carlosleclerc I mean y/n gave birth to their daughter not that long ago and its probably not the best idea to fly with a new born/baby all around the world. I'm sure they're fine..

leclerc_16 mmm you're probably right, would hate to see them split up though

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 327,888 others

y/nusername juste toi et moi à l'infini, petite fille 💗 (just you and me to infinity, little girl.)

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noellepicard 😍

yourmumsuser mes anges ❤️ (my angels)

charloslesainz 'just you and me' doesn't sit right with me lmfao

↳ thurthur my god it's just a caption 💀

landoscar for real they're always reaching for things

thurthur they always trying to start shit and it's getting annoying and repetitive

clsixteen never seen such a cute kid 🥰

francisca.cgomes need to meet her soon!

↳ y/nusername your always welcome!

bananaclerc cutest little bunny 🐰

manon_roux mon lapinou ❤️ (my bunny)

joris__trouche mon petit monstre ❤️ (my little monster)

↳ hamilt44n stop this kid is so loved 😭

sainzleclerc feeding the delulu fans with that caption

↳ charlesgirlies it's literally just a damn caption!!!

sainzleclerc I know but the crazy charles girlies haven't seen them together in a while and don't forget Charles hasn't mentioned zoë in a while.. things add up in their heads 🤡

charles_leclerc mes princesses ❤️

↳ y/nusername 🥰

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

let me know if you want to be taken off the taglist

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #lando x reader #charles x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic

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acstation206 · 1 month

Text

I messed up. /j

Introducing...

THE AMAZING DIGITAL ARCADE PARTY!

Yeah, that's right, I caved in.

Basically the exact same show except its established lore and setting is more largely inspired by archive compilations of popular vintage arcade games of the 80s and 90s such as Pac-Man’s Arcade Party, as well as the different takes within the sci-fi / fantasy genre by the likes of Wreck-It Ralph, Tron: Legacy, and Infinity Train.

= BACKGROUND (in a nutshell) 💿 =

In an attempt to save their dying business, C&A developed and manufactured the first hybrid arcade game of its own kind that combined other popular arcade games and home console games with virtual reality. However, just as the company’s luck was turning around, numerous lawsuits from game companies by the likes of Nintendo and families were filed against the company for their product, from apparently “ripping-off” Super Mario Bros. in its entirety to causing many children to either inexplicably fall unconscious or suffer from amnesia after the cabinet’s headset was put on. Just then, as C&A announced they’ll be temporarily recalling the product to fix its issues, a shocking discovery was already made by investigators that would soon bring the company to its demise: the game’s AI had gone rogue, and once a human mind dies from losing one of the games in any way, they are either permanently reincarnated as a personified cartoon character of themselves or just straight up die in real-life depending on the outcome.

= ART N’ STUFF 🎨 =

(might wanna make a separate masterpost for that in the future but oh well)

NES Ragatha

= Q&As and BOUNDARIES (sort of) 🎙️ =

"Are there any plans to make a full webcomic out of this?" - Uhhhh, mayyybe? I'm not entirely sure, honestly. While there may be a few side comics and artwork from my head I want to get out sometime, I don't really have much plans for this AU that'll be worth telling a full story right now since I feel there is plenty of things that I've yet to figure out and develop in a matter of time, particularly the setting and characters (especially considering the OG show itself has only 2 episodes out as of writing and I only have mobile apps like ibisPaint X to make this all possible at the moment).

"Can I make fanfics and OCs for this AU?" - Of course! I've seen a lot of incredible things from the community, especially in regards to alternate universes, so you're absolutely more than welcome to share whatever's on your mind as long as your heart's in the right place. I can't really guarantee I'll see every bit of it since I do have some personal biz of mine to take care of at any moment, but I'll be happy to reblog them whenever I get the chance. Just tag me and we all good. :)

"Are there any canon ships in this AU?" - Yes. Yes, there are. Well, only BunnyDoll (Jax x Ragatha) to be specific. HOWEVER, you are free to ship whoever you want here! Showtime (Caine x Pomni), ButtonBlossom (Pomni x Ragatha), it's all okay. The choice is yours, a romantic buffet! (Plus, depending on the quality of my writing, I'm not even planning to dwell too much into it for now, aside from the side comics that will.)

That's all for right now. Enjoy! :)

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charlottesbookclub · 2 months

Text

i'm here (ser gwayne hightower x reader) 💚💚

Summary: you have a nightmare, but gwayne is there to comfort you 💚

Warnings/Tags: spouse!reader; gn!reader; established relationship (marriage); nightmares; angst/anxiety brought on by the nightmares; absolutely catastrophic levels of tooth-rotting fluff; let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2870

Author’s Note: as I mentioned in this post, gwayne hightower has absolutely consumed my life and I am down sooooooo bad for him rn, so voilá, this fic has emerged as a result of that! 💕 as I also say in that linked post, I'm not super familiar with hotd, so I'm sorry if any of the terms I use aren't canon-accurate (I watched game of thrones a few years ago and I tried my best to make it feel authentic to the world of canon, but something may have slipped through 😅). and I hope this feels in-character to gwayne! I've rewatched the scenes of his that I have access to many times for...... uhh ~Research Purposes~ but I haven't seen all his scenes yet, so I apologize if it feels ooc at all – I did my best to make it feel like him! 🥰

oh and this is key: we've all seen the necklace, right?? we know about the necklace, right????? that fucking necklace makes me absolutely feral so I've given it a backstory, because it truly has me foaming at the fucking mouth 😌 (also, if you haven't seen the necklace, may I please direct you to this incredible gifset so we can descend into madness over it together?)

as always, I hope you enjoy!! 🥰🥰 (also please feel free to share any gwayne thoughts you have – I'd love to scream about the precious man with y'all! ☺️💕)

The memory was not yours, but in this moment, it felt like it was. Gwayne had only told you the story once, with hushed words and averted eyes. You had asked, and he could never find it in himself to keep anything from you, even if it made his chest seize with shame. He told you that the whole ordeal had been a result of foolishness on his part, something he would admit only to you. He said that he recalled the memory with great embarrassment now. But you felt nothing but terror.

You stood on a large, grassy plain ringed with trees, a few wispy clouds scuddling across the blue sky above you. This was a place you had never seen, never been – but one thing was familiar. As you struggled to gain your bearings in the strange location, you saw a group of men on horseback just a short distance ahead. You recognized your lord husband instantly: the delicate silver interlace of his steed’s armor and the auburn glow of his hair in the sunlight were as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

You called out to him, but he didn’t respond; he seemed to be in conversation with one of the other men. You ran toward the small group and cried his name again, but even at close range he appeared not to hear you. Panic grew in your chest by the moment as you hurried closer still, coming near enough that you could almost reach out and touch Gwayne’s mount. You stretched out your hand to do just that when your arm was stopped by some invisible force. There was nothing in front of you, just empty air that you should have been able to move through with no difficulty. But you were trapped mere feet from your beloved, unable to reach him.

Something was terribly wrong. You screamed his name this time, desperation compressing your lungs with the force of your yell. But it was clear that he could not hear you, since neither he nor any of the gathered men so much as turned toward the sound of your cries. Real fear gripped you now, shooting ice through your veins as you cast about you for something – anything – that you could do. And that was when a new kind of fear crept over you, one so old and visceral you could feel it down to your very bones. Shudders wracked your body as you turned your eyes toward the sky, suddenly certain that you were being watched. But not just watched – no, you were being hunted.

At a loss for what else you could do, you renewed your efforts to alert Gwayne to the danger that you could feel but not yet see. You screamed until your voice was hoarse, but you were forced to watch in horror as Gwayne continued his conversation as though nothing was wrong, even flashing that charming smile that you knew and loved so well. It was just then that the other man finally noticed that something was wrong. He cast his eyes toward the sky as you had mere moments before, saying something to the gathered men. A wave of fear seemed to run through the horses, as there was a flurry of shifting hooves and nervous snorts. You could only watch in terror as realization washed over Gwayne’s face, twisting his handsome features into a terrifying expression of horror.

You screamed at him to run just as everything burst into motion, the horses tearing off across the plain toward the cover of the trees. You found yourself moving along with them, though you had no mount of your own. Instead, it was the same terrible invisible force, dragging you along, forcing you to watch as the scene unfolded before you.

And then you saw it: the dragon. It swooped down from the sky as though it had erupted into existence from nothing, filling the empty air with huge grey wings that seemed to blot out the sun. You screamed again, but this time without the intention of forming any coherent words – the noise that escaped your throat was an expression of the fear that was buried deep in your bones upon the sight of the creature. Its lean body shot across the plain toward the fleeing men with a kind of focus and intention that proved what you had thought from the beginning: the dragon was hunting. And worse than that, it was hunting Gwayne.

Voice rubbed raw from screaming, and realizing your cries to him did nothing anyway, you watched in terrible silence as his steed thundered across the ground, its legs eating up the distance as fast as it could. And yet the dragon gained. If this was some cruel trick played by the gods, you couldn’t think what you could possibly have done to deserve this kind of torment. You could do nothing but watch, utterly powerless, as Gwayne – your Gwayne – fled for his life, his beautiful face contorted into an expression of fear that cut you to the core like a knife to the stomach. You held your breath, fearing each moment would be the one when you were forced to watch your love be consumed by dragonfire, ending both his life and yours in one swift blow of unimaginable anguish and heartbreak from which you knew you would never recover. Just as you had resolved to try calling to him one last time – if nothing else, to assure him of your love – the treeline broke around you and the horses cantered to a stop beneath the cover of the forest.

The world was still again, but the fear lingered. You could sense the dragon above you, even hear its thin, unearthly cries as it searched for its hidden quarry. Your eyes instantly found Gwayne, needing to make sure he had survived the ordeal. Indeed, he still sat upon his steed, and you watched his chest heave as he attempted to steady his breathing. The fear that still permeated the forest remained etched on his face as well, changing his features from those of the man you had courted and married to those of a young boy, trembling and horror-struck and so helpless and small.

You longed with every fiber of your being to run up to him and pull him into your arms, to feel his warm breath on your neck as he folded into your embrace. You ached to hold his face in your hands and wipe away the single lingering tear he likely didn’t even know was still glistening on his cheek. You yearned to kiss the terror away from his brow and his nose and his lips, to tell him he was safe – to tell him that you were here.

But you were trapped just feet from him, all these longings locked into your body as you pressed toward him as far as the strange invisible barrier would allow. You watched as the fear slowly faded from his face, his features once again becoming warm and familiar. You couldn’t help but smile as he seemed to return to himself somewhat. Turning to one of his companions, he opened his mouth to say something when both of their eyes snapped up to the sky, reacting to some sound you must not have heard. You followed their gaze, and didn’t even have a chance to scream as a column of fire descended from above, ready to devour you all.

You woke with a gasp. Your heart was pounding loudly enough that you could hear it in your ears, and you pushed yourself up into a sitting position as you struggled to calm your ragged breathing. The darkness in the room was soft, and your eyes adjusted slowly to your surroundings, only to find them all comforting and familiar – this was your room, your home. Instantly, you turned to your side, and let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Gwayne sleeping peacefully next to you. He was here, he was home, he was safe – you both were.

When your breathing had calmed back to a normal rate, you eased yourself back down under the covers, burrowing into his arms as he sleepily adjusted his position to accommodate you.

“Hmmm—is everything… alright?” he muttered, blinking his eyes open.

“Everything’s fine,” you assured him, “I just had a nightmare.”

He seemed to waken a little more at your words, propping himself up slightly on one arm as he reached the other hand out to stroke your cheek.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?” his voice was still thick with sleep, but you knew the questions were genuine.

“It was about you,” you reached up to cup his hand that still rested on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And the dragon,” you added, your words barely above a whisper. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, you were certain he was reliving the memory himself, and instantly regretted your words.

“But it was nothing,” you hurried to assure him, “I just—I just wish I had been there. Or that I could have helped or—” you were distinctly aware that your jumbled words made very little sense, even to you. “I just felt so helpless,” you ended with a sigh. Gwayne watched you with soft eyes, his fingers squeezing yours in reassurance.

“You were there, though,” he responded, smiling gently, “and you did help.” You just stared at him incredulously, wondering if he was the one who was dreaming now. He read the question in your eyes with a small chuckle and disentangled his hand from yours, pushing himself up to sit.

Pressing a hand to his chest, his fingers found the chain of the necklace that he always wore. The charm was a delicate circle of beaten metal hanging from a simple coppery chain. You had bought it in the market one day when the two of you were still courting. The rich auburn sheen of the metal had reminded you of Gwayne’s hair, and you were determined to have it. The seller assured you that the little ring symbolized unending love and devotion – a never-ending cycle, an unbroken vow. You were doubtful that had been the original intention of the maker, but rather a ploy on the seller’s part to drive up the price after he realized you intended it as a gift for your beloved. Had it been that obvious how love-struck you were?

Regardless of whether it was intended or not, you liked the idea of the simple circle as a token of promise and loyalty, as well as a celebration of one of Gwayne’s most striking features. You had given it to him wrapped in a carefully-embroidered handkerchief when he had gallantly asked for your favor before a tourney. You cherished the memory of him asking you to help him put it on, and the fleeting touch of his skin and flaming hair you were able to steal as you clasped it around his neck. He won the tourney, and insisted that his victory was due at least in part to the precious charm you had given him, imbued with your affection and devotion. To your knowledge, he had never taken it off since.

Now, in the dim light of your shared chambers, he held the little ring out for you to see. It was slightly more battered now than it had been, and though its original shine was gone, it still seemed to glow with a warm coppery light. Reaching out, you took the small circle in your fingers, feeling all the tiny knicks and ridges it had acquired over time, each one of them proof of Gwayne’s promise to always return to you – an unbroken vow.

“See, you’re always with me, right here,” he gestured to the charm in your fingers. The feeling of the metal against your skin and the sweet memories that swirled through your mind caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes, chasing away the lingering cobwebs of fear that the nightmare had spun. Gently, you released the ring and Gwayne’s fingers replaced yours on the circle, guiding it back to where it always sat on his chest, just above his heart. He pressed it there, emphasizing his words: “right here, right where you always have been – and always will be.”

Ducking your head away, you tried to hide the tears that were now threatening to slide down your cheeks as his words. But before you could wipe them on the sheets, Gwayne’s hand caught your chin, gently pulling him back to you, the rough pad of his thumb banishing the tears from your face. His eyes sparkled with affection and mirth, and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from echoing his smile.

“Hmmm… it’s more serious than I thought,” he said with mock-concern, tilting your face as though he was examining it, “you appear to be desperately and madly in love with me – a very serious condition indeed.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out of your mouth as you nudged him playfully, causing him to break into bright chuckles of his own. Your chest, which just moments ago had been compressed with terror, was now so full of love and happiness you were certain it might burst.

“And tell me, Ser Gwayne, what is the cure for this most dire of conditions?” you matched his tone of feigned worry as your laughter subsided.

“Hmmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, unable to hide to hide the dimples forming on his cheeks, proof of his barely-suppressed smile, “perhaps marriage? I have heard many esteemed lords claim that the institution of matrimony is bound to cure an ailment such as yours.”

“Oh, but I fear I’ve tried that,” you exclaimed, “and it has only made my condition worse.”

“Then this is indeed one of the most serious cases I’ve ever seen.” He pondered for a moment, then his eyes lit up: “There is one more cure, but it’s risky. You could try true love’s kiss. One does read about those sorts of things working miracles after all.”

“What’s the risk?”

“The risk is that the kiss renders your condition utterly uncurable by any other means.” Gwayne’s lips tilted up into your favorite lopsided smile as he grinned at you, dimples glowing like twin suns, sending the delicate freckles on his face colliding into each other like falling stars.

“That’s a risk I’m more than willing to take,” you breathed as he reached out to cup your face and bring it close to his. You closed your eyes as your lips met in a burst of warm sunlight that seemed to fill your whole body with its radiance. You weren’t sure how long you remined pressed against him, feeling his heartbeat against your skin, his auburn locks twisted in your fingers, his necklace hanging between your entwined forms.

“Did it work?” he whispered when he finally pulled away, his forehead still resting against yours.

“No,” you responded happily, your fingers once again finding the thin metal of the little circular charm, “I fear I’m even more madly and desperately in love with you than before.” You met his eyes, finding them bright and soft and just as madly and desperately in love as you were certain yours were.

“Well, I like to think of myself as chivalrous, but I don’t think I can find it in myself to regret your condition,” he whispered, a teasing smile on his face as he reached a hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Nor can I,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He pulled you fully into his grasp then, maneuvering you both back under the covers without relinquishing his hold on you. You rested on his chest, head tucked under his chin as he wrapped both arms around you. Your fingers found his necklace, and you clasped it in your hand. He echoed your motion until both of your hands were intertwined around the metal circle, resting just above his heart. You could feel it beating against your skin, and you snuggled yourself even closer to him.

“This is what I imagine,” Gwayne said softly to the darkness, “when I’m on the road without you, and all I have is this small charm to remind me of what it feels like to rest in your embrace. This is what I dream of.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and squeezed your hand where it entwined with his on the necklace. “You’re always right here.”

“I’m always right here,” you echo, your words a promise, a vow.

“But thank the gods I don’t have to imagine right now,” you felt his words as his lips moved against your forehead, “because I am right here.” Gwayne wrapped his arms even more tightly around you, and you gladly tucked yourself further into his warm embrace. You felt yourself drifting back into a pleasant sleep in the comfort and safety of his arms. You heard his words echo softly in the gentle quiet of the room:

“I’m right here.”

#charlotte writes #ser gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #ser gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne hightower fanfiction #gwayne hightower imagine

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mayhemories · 2 years

Note

Pregnancy baby trope baby daddy Neteyam x reader please

TELLING NETEYAM YOURE PREGNANT 😩😩😩😩😩😩

Tsahik Always Knows

Oh my god!! Daddy Neyetam would be so sweet! Also, I'm sorry for the lack of posts, I've been studying overseas and this course is an intensive fieldwork unit so I have had like no time to think. Additionally, some of my tags are working and some are not - I'm so sorry if I miss out on tagging you!

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: none. Vomit? Fluff?

Words: 1.8k

Author’s Notes:

Neteyam is 24, reader is 23, established relationship. AU where they never left the forest and Jake is still Olo’eyktan, Neteyam will take that mantle eventually,, happy-happy can’t read or write any more angst for real.

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Tag List: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila

Read Below Cut:

You stared at the remnants of last night’s dinner on the floor. You had vomited, again. This had been happening in the mornings, on and off for the last few weeks. You did not feel sick, so why were you sick?

Normally the vomit happened at home. Normally Neteyam had already left to tend to his duties. Normally you could clean it up and pretend like it never happened.

The heat of your embarrassment swarmed over your neck and shoulders, sweeping up into your cheeks and ears. You knelt, frozen in place over the bile you had just produced.

On Mo’at’s tent floor.

She was practically, and legally, your grandmother, and had been since you were nineteen-years-old. But you never thought of her like that. She was your Tsahik, your teacher, your elder, your spiritual guide, healer of the Omaticaya.

And you had vomited on her floor.

Mo’at cleared her throat, sitting across from you, your shameful vomit between you. Tears welled in your eyes. This was the worst day of your life.

“Well, luckily it was just you and me here, hm,” Mo’at said with an unusual lightness, a sweetness that was enough to spin you out of your own thoughts.

“My Tsahik, I am so sorry I do not know-”

“Don’t be stupid, how can you not know?” The typical biting Mo’at that you were familiar with came back, quickly. The woman leaned forward with a cloth, mopping up your watery bile like a dealdly secret to be kept between the Tsahik and her assistant.

Now, you really did not know what she meant. You sat up taller, finding a cloth to wipe your mouth clean, something tangible to hold onto.

“My Tsahik, I promise you, I do not know what you think I know.” You whispered into the cloth at your mouth. Mo’at discarded her cloth that blotted your vomit into a wooden bowl. Some poor trainee will deal with it later. She squinted at you, taking you in. Harshly, she grabbed at your wrists, inspecting your palms, and your shaking, delicate fingers.

She huffed as she held your wrist tightly in her left, her right hand poking at your cheek, breasts and thighs. “Hey!” you had enough of her prodding, as you pulled your wrist from her vice-like grip.

“Lay down. Now.” The Tsahik made moves to push you back onto the woven mats on the floor. You were scared and confused and honestly, getting rather emotional. You were still reeling over the embarrassment the vomit caused you. More and more these days you found yourself crying over nothing, or getting easily embarsassed.

You laid still, scared of Mo’at, and, scared of vomiting again. Flat on your back, you stared at the keen weavings of Mo’at’s medical tent. You hissed, looking down, Mo’at has placed a cold hollowed stone on your lower stomach, her ear pressed against it, she furrowed her brow bone.

The elder woman jerked up once she was satisfied, discarding her stone instrument, she settled back into her seated position on the floor, you mirroring her.

“Tsahik-”

“You are with child, quite obviously.” Mo’at had cut you off, while simultaneously giving you news that ripped all the air from your lungs.

Your mind was spinning. You were happy, you were sad, you were excited, you were embarrassed. How could you not see the signs within yourself? Obviously you and Neteyam mated often-

Oh, Eywa.

Neteyam.

You were going to have to tell him.

It was not like you both hadn’t spoken on the topic before, you knew you both wanted kids, a family. Additionally, children were expected, a future Olo'eyktan must be secured.

But the two of you had not planned for it to happen so soon. You had been so careful, tonics and teas. God, Neteyam pulled out most of the time.

Subconsciously one hand laid across your abdomen, the other covering your mouth. You felt your eyes struggling to focus on Mo’at, on anything really. You felt like a shell. A shell with a small shell inside.

“How far along?” You whispered, normally you would scold yourself for your informality towards Mo’at, but you would give yourself a break just this once.

“A month, maybe two. Nothing more, nothing less. You are not physically showing yet but you cannot be far away.” The rare gentleness from Mo’at rose its head once again. You were grateful for it. “Now, my lovely girl, go. Go collect yourself and tell my grandbaby that you’re having my great-grandbaby.” Mo’at said softly, helping you to your feet.

You couldn’t remember the short walk from Mo’at’s tent to the home you shared with Neteyam. You felt as if you were on auto-pilot, blacking out and teleporting from place to place. You quickly sat on the side of your shared bed. Furs and gossamer blankets providing comfort to your shaking legs. Laying back, you stared at the gossamer canopy Neteyam had only recently erected above your bed, dangling your legs off the side.

You rested your hands on your stomach, trying to etch into your memory what it felt like now, knowing that it will eventually swell with the growth of your baby.

Neteyam’s baby.

Realistically, you knew that Neteyam won’t be angry. Shocked? Maybe. But angry? Neteyam had never, ever been angry with you before. Emotionally? It was a different story, you imagined Neteyam being frustrated and screaming at you. You imagined him being disappointed. You imagined him packing his things and leaving. The passing thoughts alone were enough to put you on edge.

Sighing aloud, you had a look at the water clock resting on the other side of the room, you still had a few hours before Neteyam was to return. You still had a few hours to pull yourself together and work out how you were going to spit it out.

Neteyam ran his hands over his face, pulling up his ionar onto his forehead. His whole body burned from that flight. He had missed you today, not usually staying out on patrol this late, but the young recruits needed training, and Neteyam was always eager to please. But, he was a domestic man at heart, he loved being at home with you, loved pulling you to his chest, loved making whatever new thing you asked for.

He loved nesting, he realised. Loved doing it with you.

Striding from the Ikran keeper, Neteyam wanted nothing more than to see you.

The warm lights of your home welcomed him, though when he peered through the gap in the curtain flap, all he saw was your anxious figure, pacing back and forth, muttering to yourself. The air was wrong, Neteyam had never really seen you like this. He watched quietly, confused as to how you had not scent him already, something was wrong with you and he would be damned if he did not find out what.

“Oh Eywa, what am I supposed to say?” You prayed silently, wringing your wrists. You thought the pacing would bring you clarity, as it often provided your father-in-law. Yet you felt empty. And so unbearably full at the same time. In the few hours you had to wait for your mate you had come to love the little life growing in your womb.

You were so excited. You could hardly contain yourself. Neteyam would be the most perfect father. But as the night grew closer your brain started to pick itself apart.

It was all too much. You fell to your knees in the middle of your home, letting the tears flow freely now.

Neteyam did not let that stand for long. He quickly rushed in, picking you up and placing you in his lap. His strong arms snaking around your sobbing form. Your head quickly found is chest. He felt your hot tears streaming down your beautiful face and onto his skin. Neteyam hushed you, like he watched his mother do with his siblings, gently rocking you back and forth. It was so silent, save from your sobbing hiccups. Neteyam did not dare speak until you had stopped.

“My love, what has happened?” He asked gently, pulling away to cup your delicate face in his large, calloused hands. His eyes found yours, and he could see something was creating great turmoil in the labyrinth of your complicated, intelligent mind.

You sighed in response, shaking your head. Trying to find any courage at all. Knowing you have news that will change the course of someone’s life was not something you dealt with well. Maybe you were not cut out to be the clan’s spiritual leader as Tsahik. But that was a different problem for a different day.

Neteyam placed a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheeks, under your eyes, the tip of your nose, your forehead. You were loved, he said through the gesture. You are safe here.

“Neteyam,” You started, softly. You were always softspoken. Something of which drove Neteyam crazy in love with you. So gentile, so docile, so calm. “I have something to tell you.” Neteyam’s stomach started to flip at your words, anxiety settling in, but like any good soldier, he willed his face into a blank expression. Giving nothing away.

And, in turn, giving you nothing.

“Continue my little love.” He said, putting your baby hairs behind your ears, smoothing your loose hair down as you spoke.

“Neteyam,” You cleared your throat, forcing that invisible, metaphysical bubble away. “I am with child.” The words hung in the air between you, and all you could do was wait for your mate to respond.

Neteyam felt like he was dreaming. Of all the things he prepared for you to say, you being pregnant was not one of them.

His tail betrayed him before his mouth did. Rapidly going side to side, the smile that erupted on Neteyam’s face threatened to split his jaw apart.

You were carrying a baby. His baby. Your baby, together, with him.

You melted into Neteyam’s searing kiss as he held you flush to his body. Pulling apart, Neteyam’s hands rested on your stomach, bright eyed and smily. He kissed your stomach over and over and over again. Peppering the whole area with his hot lips. You giggled at him. He was perfect.

“Oh (y/n), I am so happy.” Neteyam kissed you again, your giggles erupting between kisses as he could not decide on what he wanted to look at, your face or your stomach. “How long have you known, sweetheart?” He rested his forehead on yours, his hands resting on your still flat stomach.

“I found out earlier today.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Your grandmother knew.”

Neteyam laughed, his shoulders shaking, beads of his braids clinking together.

“She knows everything.”

That night as the two of you laid in bed, Neteyam spooning you, you rose out of your slumber briefly. Neteyam’s tail had wrapped itself around your thigh, your own tail sat under your abdomen of its own accord. Neteyam’s fingers splayed over your stomach. He was so protective already. So in love with you and your unborn baby.

You smiled. Shutting your eyes you thanked Eywa for gifting you with something so precious.

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cherubfae · 1 month

Note

May I request cock warming with the final fantasy boys? Specifically cloud, Zack, and noctis please!!

"soft & warm" || {final fantasy x reader}

ft. Cloud, Zack, Sephiroth, Reno, Ignis, Gladio, Noctis, & Prompto

tags: smut, nsfw, gn!afab!reader (afab anatomy described), established relationships, comfort/gentle sex, descriptive injuries, injured!reader and injured!protective!boys, dirty talk, breeding kink, Reno is a yapper, slight dom!reader in some

a/n: some of these got really long oop!! Also I refuse to leave my BELOVED prompto out of anything so hi, hello, I've added him too! ☺️ Fun fact, I haven't played any FF games other than the og FF7 demo! I'm hoping that'll change soon and I've watched some playthroughs, know the lore decent enough, but I hope to continue writing FF content for you guys! It is one of my fave worlds that I wish to explore properly!

Cloud

Your bedroom would be the only place he would feel comfortable doing this in. Comforted by the scent of you, of your blankets and pillows, the small collection of stuffed animals. Your scent caresses his troubled mind, filling him with longing; for the home he found in you.

Pretty Mako eyes glitter in the dark, shining like the night sky, as you and Cloud are drenched in pale moonlight. His gaze solely focused on your never wavered, even when had shimmied out of your sleep shorts and underwear. The second you climb back onto the bed, he's reaching for you, pulling into his lap and sealing your mouth in a soft kiss. His cock already lined up against your silken folds.

"Thought I lost you today." Came Cloud's soft admittance. "Scared the hell outta me. Need to.. I need to feel that you're real. That you're here. Please." Your warm palms cup his cheek, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Grounding him to reality. Eagerly, he leans into your touch, embracing you tightly.

"I'm here, Cloud. I'm safe. I love you." You remind, repeating the mantra the two of you came up with when he'd get a little too lost within himself. Cloud kisses you again, cupping your jaw gently. He quietly repeats those last three words to you, barely above a whisper.

A tiny whimper leaves both of you as you sink down onto Cloud. His arms wrap around you tightly, burying his face into the side of your neck. The panicked rose and fall of his chest slowly subsided as the minutes wore on. Gently shifting your position, Cloud lays the two of you down. Your leg tossed over his hip. His protective hold remains on your ass and across your back, his fingers lightly pressed into the skin of your shoulder blades. It's only after you fall asleep in his loving embrace that he allows himself a little cry. Spending the night holding you, unable to fall asleep until the first songbird begins its morning tune.

Zack

"Are you sure this is okay, baby?" Zack's pink cheeks are bright in the dark bedroom. Though, you can't see his expression, you can, however, feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. With his face hidden in the crook of your neck, you can feel how they burn against your tepid skin. Ever so grateful that your boyfriend runs hot like a furnace. At your nod, he carefully lifts up your bandaged thigh with one strong, warm hand.

His other arm, previously wrapped around your tummy and slightly pinned beneath your body, is able to reach down between your legs and rub slowly, gentle circles around your clit until the nub becomes erect. Pushing your wet underwear to the side, you shiver at the contract between his warm fingers and the leather that conceals the rest of his hand. Spreading your folds open, you let out a pleased moan as his weeping cock rubs at your hole.

"Oh, fuck, honey. Such a pretty noise." Zack's eyelashes flutter. Slowly pushing himself inside of you, mouth dropping open into a fucked out expression. He places a pillow under your injured thigh, letting it rest against his own leg. "Fuck, baby. You're sucking me in so sweetly." He fidgets. "I promised not to move, but I can still make you cum on my cock." Lowly, he growls; his warm fingers return to your aching clit.

Sephiroth

"Are you sure you want to warm my cock, dearest?"Sephiroth frowns, deeply. "I am certainly not opposed but I worry about your health. You took a rather nasty spill today. That vile creature breaking into our home and harming you," Sephiroth bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Are you certain? Hmm, come here then, my love." Undoing his trousers, he frees himself just enough for his tall, heavy cock to stand proud between his parted thighs.

Wrapping a protective arm around your waist, he lifts you. Rubbing his slit against your folds, collecting your juices. He smiles at your cute moan when his cockhead swipes against your clit, repeating the motion several more times. "I will go slow, my angel. Hold onto me." His grip is firm as he slowly pushes his head past your outer lips, easing his thick girth into your hole. A satisfied growl rumbles from his lips once he's fully seated inside of you. Stroking your hair, he pushes your head to rest on his shoulder. "Rest, dearest."

Reno

"Fuck! How are you still this tight...?" Reno gasps, unable to make up his mind on where to touch you first. His hands scramble from gripping your hips, to wrapping around your upper body to cradle you to him, to your breasts, to back to your hips. "You're killin' me, doll. I'm injured, take pity on me?" The redhead pouts, his lower lip jutting out. He looked more like a puppy begging for its owner's food at dinnertime rather than an supposed injured warrior. He was playing with a cool dagger and cut his finger, please take pity on him.

Seeing you glower down at him, Reno stilled, a cheeky smile reaching his face. He had disturbed you while you were working on a thick stack of paperwork, again. He can be quite the yapper when he's around you. Snapping your hips down, he gasped, bucking himself wildly into your warm cunt. Look, he's not above whining if he's in your presence.

"You're really not gonna let me move? :(" He groans at your stern stare. "I know, I know. I was a tad reckless on this last mission, I'm sorry, honey. I'll make it up to you."

"You can make it up to me by being quiet and let me work. If you're good, maybe I'll deem you worthy enough to cum inside my cunt." Holy shit. Reno has never been so fucking turned on in his life.

Ignis

While he appreciates the practice in improving his healing techniques, Ignis isn't quite fond that you have become his primary companion in building said techniques. This time it was particularly gnarly and you were left with several gashes across your body from a fierce daemon attack. He had been ridiculously worried for your safety the moment he saw the creature send you flying back into the cliff side with a swipe of its beastly claws. He will be forever thankful to Noctis for being the first and closest to rush to your aid, allowing Gladio to slay the foul beast; cleaving its head from its miserable shoulders.

Helping you remove the last of your bloodied clothing, the chef clicked his tongue at your ruined, bloodied bandages already haphazardly unsticking from your chest and abdomen. Thank the gods the wounds were shallow enough to not need many stitches. Sitting at the edge of a hidden hot spring, Ignis was determined to help wash away the grime of the day now that your wounds had healed a bit more thanks to his delicious cooking.

"You worried me today, darling." Ignis spoke softly into the cool night, naked as the day he was born, barely audible above the roar of the waterfall. Not too far away, the rest of the group sleeps soundly around a warm, roaring campfire. Your pained expression made his heart ache and with a sigh, pulls you into his warm embrace. You press your nose against his neck and let out a shaky sigh. Ignis holds you a little tighter.

Easing into the pleasant warm water, Ignis wades into the shallow depths with your legs wrapped around his waist. There's a long stone, closest to the waterfall, smoothed into the vague shape of a bench over hundreds of years thanks to the minerals and magical properties of the water. Situated in his lap, your palms rest flat upon his shoulders leaning back to give him a look. Ignis smiles knowingly, unable to fight the adoring chuckle that leaves him.

"Even whilst injured you're so eager for my cock to fill you, hmm? What a tempter you are, darling. A little minx. Come here, I shall indulge a little." Always the one to treat you like glass, he softly slides his tip between your folds, pretty eyes slipping shut into a moan. He looked so pretty like this, biting his lip, and doing his best to stay quiet despite knowing that the prince loved a good show. "We are here to relax, not to fuck like rabbits--" Your slam yourself down onto his lap impatiently, cutting his monologue short. Ignis chokes out a scratchy moan, his hands shooting out to grip your hips. "No, you can't fuck me tonight, oh gods. Be good and sit still. I promise when you are healed, I'll breed you until all you can remember is my name." Ignis nipped at your earlobe in warning.

Gladiolus

Thunder rippled across the sky, dancing in tune with flashes of white-purple lightning. Heavy rain drizzled down the windows, only allowing for blurry glimpses of the outside world beyond the glass. It was chilly. Cold enough to dive deep into your closet to bring your heavier, thicker clothing out from hiding.

Gladio stoked low flames burning in the hearth to life, still choosing to be mostly bare-chested like a sociopath in this cold weather. Still nursing a wound on his lower abdomen, he took his movements slowly. But even when injured, Gladiolus craved physical contact with you. And if you're so cold, how about you come over here and he'll help warm you up a little? ;D

"Shit, dove. Can't believe I'm already all the way in," his deep voice grumbled, partially in disbelief. His cock is impossibly thick, stretching out your cunt wide. The sight alone makes him throb and if he wasn't injured, he'd be fuckin' jackhammering you into the sofa, insatiable, like a bear that found honey.

"Usually ya need more prep to take me. Have you been thinking about little ol' me this whole time?" The playful smack you give his shoulder makes him erupt into laughter, before instant regret makes itself known, and Gladio clutches his side with a wince. "Alright, alright. Don't make me laugh, cutie. M' sorry. C'mere, I'll keep you nice and warm from this frigid weather." Pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa, Gladiolus wraps it around your shoulders and pulls you against his warm chest.

Noctis

"Easy does it, you're still hurt from the fight-- I'm still hurt, too, just be- oh fuck," Noctis whined, bordering on a whimper, "--Careful--," The gasp he let out is sinful. His head falls back against his mass of soft, plush pillows supporting his head and upper body. Your walls pulse and throb around his weeping length, a deliciously slick noise echoing through his room as you sink down completely on his length.

Fighting through every instinct to buck himself into you, Noctis's hands find purchase on your hips. He breathes in deep, shallow gasps, stuttering and with a bit of drool. The sight alone is a heavenly gift from the Six. You throb deliciously around his cock, already collecting slick at the base. Sticky strings drip down your folds, clinging to his pubic bone as he not so subtly sleepily grinds himself into you.

Prompto

What could be more poetic and a clear sign that you and your boyfriend are soulmates than both of you getting bucked off of chocobos and suffering several semi-serious injuries of varied assortment? The tumble was enough to whiplash you two and were then forced by Ignis to stay at the hotel while he, Gladio, and Noctis were to go retrieve supplies in town for dinner tonight. Ignis already planned to have a stern talk with the vendors they'd rented the chocobos from.

To say the chef was perturbed was an understatement. Giving you what he called 'faulty skittish birds'. You and Prompto hadn't done anything to warrant getting tossed off your mounts. It had been a chain reaction. His had been startled first, kicking him off and yours, who had been directly behind his, followed suit. You hadn't noticed much at first until the pain burning beneath your skin grew and spread like wildfire from your wrist up to your shoulder. A broken wrist. Asphalt burned your palms and knees, completely scraped up and throbbing. The small pinpricks of red blood that surfaced from your abrasions were the only thing cooling down the heated, throbbing flesh of your new layer of skin now exposed. Your right knee had been scraped and banged up pretty good, with your ankle most likely twisted.

Prompto had fully broken his arm, being confined to a flimsy cloth brace while his arm remained in his cast-- he was just relieved it wasn't his dominant hand. So he could still take pictures without worry. His pretty freckled skin was also littered with scrapes and bruises.

"Just give me your list of what you need. I shall purchase them if I see them. We'll buy you two some desserts if we come across something especially delicious." Ignis promised, leaving with the boys not long after, Gladio giving a teasing wave as they left. They would definitely be gone for at least a couple hours.

Turning to look at Prompto, he gives you a bright smile managing a tiny thumbs up with his broken arm. The small scratches marring his freckled face make your heart ache. Today could've gone much worse than it did. You were thankful the worst was only broken bones.

"I know something I'd like for dessert." Prompto spoke aloud. His purple-blue eyes squinted into slivers as he grinned cheekily; a tiny flush of pink crossing his face. "We've got a bit of time. Think I could tempt you to hop on a different mount?" He giggled at his own joke, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What if I want to say yes to that ride?" You smirk at him, Prompto immediately going silent with flushed cheeks. He was good at fishing out flirtatious comments when it came to you, even after all these years together, but still wasn't able to handle them being given right back to him. Instantly he's scooting himself to rest his back against the headboard. He struggles with his belt buckle, wiggling down his jeans far enough to pull his cock out. Already dripping precum down his shaft.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, with the both of you dealing with broken limbs, each one on the opposite side. Prompto steadies you to the best of his ability, pushing your hips down onto his cock fully. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, held tilting back as you cover his neck in little kisses.

"Missed how warm you are, pretty. It feels like it's been forever." Prompto pants, half-lidded and oh so smiley. "Guys are always getting in the way, not lettin' me have any alone time with you. Wrap your arms around my shoulders. Need'ta touch you." He groaned.

Doing your best to avoid any bruises, you do as he says. Pressing his thumb to your clit, you gasp loudly. Prompto is quick to pull you into a firm kiss, stroking your clit with messy circles. Very thankful to have the shoddy motel room to yourselves.

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#final fantasy x reader #final fantasy smut #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy xv x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife smut #sephiroth x reader #zack fair x reader #ignis scientia x reader #gladiolus amicitia x reader #gladio x reader #noctis lucis caelum x reader #noctis x reader #prompto argentum x reader #prompto x reader #reno sinclair x reader #cherubfae 2024

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d6volution · 11 months

Text

Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now.

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead—

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest.

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now.

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go.

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways.

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way."

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form.

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration.

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!" His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?"

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—"

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original."

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him.

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again.

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration.

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.."

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high.

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently.

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward.

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable.

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear.

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing.

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now.

"Jax..please..please just put it in.."

"Mmn. Don't worryy.. I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt.

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.."

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt.

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him.

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little.

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath,"

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?"

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled.

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?"

#the amazing digital circus #jax tadc #jax x reader #jaxsmut #minors dni #jax the amazing digital circus

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