#and then he fell asleep on my chest and started saying my name in his sleep

[meownotgood]

AUUUUUTRRAAHAHAHHGGGGGHH!!!!!!!! WHYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x Hufflepuff fem!reader

Summary: Girls can be mean and your darling boyfriend isn't having any of it.

Prompt: Angsty hurt and comfort - "Oh shit. Are you crying?"

Warnings: slight bullying, insecurities

~ I hope you love this @livinginafantasysworld! i love YOU 💖 also this is much longer than my usual blurbs, i got carried away 🫶 ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

You've fallen asleep on your potions book, your hair sprawled messily across your arms as your chest rises and falls. James is too busy feverishly correcting and polishing your essay to realize you've dozed off.

"Hi, Potter," a girl's voice suddenly calls from behind him, a sharp giggling follows his name and James turns, ink stains peppering his hands as his tongue pokes out of his mouth. 

"Mhm?" 

It's Samantha—something—from Charms. She's also in Gryffindor and she sits behind him in class, constantly talking his ear off. Sirius tells him he's too nice to her and honestly, he's starting to believe him.

James peers back at you, just now realizing you're sound asleep, and he smiles fondly. 

"Are you busy?" Samantha asks, her eyes narrowing in your direction almost judgmentally.

James turns to her again, catching the look and he frowns. "I am, actually," he turns his attention back to your essay and dips his quill in the ink. He's only focused on you now, occasionally looking up from the essay to admire your sleeping form. Samantha huffs but eventually leaves you and James alone in the library. 

After another half-hour of his work and your soft breaths, James leans over, his arm sliding across the table as he rests his chin on his upper arm. He smoothes his hand over your hair, gently coaxing you awake again. He has a late evening Quidditch practice he can't miss. 

"Dovey," he whispers, his eyes loving as you slowly wake up and look at him. The pages from your potion book stick to your cheek and your boyfriend chuckles, pushing them away. "Hello, sleepy-head."

You sit up, wiping some drool from your lips and your cheeks burn. "I fell asleep?"

James hums and sits straighter, sliding over the parchment with your essay. You look down. 

"You finished?"

"Yup." James pops the 'p' and then smiles at you. "Wasn't a problem. I know potions like this like the back of my hand," he says with a wink and you can't help but smile at him. You glance at the clock and realize you've been asleep for more than an hour. 

"Sorry I fell asleep," you whisper. 

"It really wasn't a problem, lovie," James assures you with a chuckle and he stands. You stand as well as James folds your essay and puts it into your book, slipping the book into your bag and running his thumb under one of your bleary eyes. 

"I love doing things for you. What else am I here for?"

You smile, leaning into his hand. "Well, being my boyfriend doesn't mean you have any obligation to help with my assignments—especially since I feel asleep," you tell him, your tone soft and unsure.

James chuckles. "Well, good thing I don't do it because of obligation but because I want to." He kisses your forehead and swings his bag over his shoulder. "I'll see you at dinner, okay? Imma be late for practice."

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and then he disappears amongst the bookshelves. You stand there, his taste still lingering, and you've never felt luckier to have him. You touch your cheeks, checking their temperature and then you smile into your hand.

Your happiness is short-lived however because as you walk through the library, you overhear a group of girls talking about your boyfriend. 

"And James has never turned me down until now," one of the girls, a taller brunette with olive skin, says as she leans against one of the desks pressed up against a window, her friends surrounding her. She's a Gryffindor. You've seen her hanging around James and his friends a few times. You're pretty sure she's in his Charms class.

"And I knew the rumors—but I didn't think he'd actually be with her." Her friends laugh and you press yourself against a hidden bookshelf, listening in.

"Who is she anyways?"

The girl scoffs almost cruelly. "Some sixth-year Hufflepuff," she looks at her nails and then smirks, "I thought Puffs were supposed to be hard-working. Instead, he was doing all the work while she drooled all over her potion book." 

Your heart sinks and your hand tightens around the strap of your bag. 

"James deserves someone better. Someone like me—"

You hold in your tears, deciding there is no use in standing there and just listening to the rest of this girl's rant. You don't have the energy to confront her either. It isn't like you haven't thought the same things she has. 

You aren't enough for him.

He deserves someone so much better.

* * *

You're the only person on James's mind as he struts into the Great Hall. His hair is still wet from his shower but that only accentuates his curls. He's smiling happily, excited to have you in his arms again. He walks by where you usually sit with your friends at the Hufflepuff table, intending to persuade you to sit with him but he frowns slightly when he sees you already sitting with his friends. 

"Hey," he says and plops down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

You don't move. Your head is lowered and you're poking your fork into your chicken. James looks up at his friends, who only send him confused looks, and then Sirius mouths, "She hasn't said a word since she sat down."

When James sees your eyes, he panics. "Oh shit, are you crying?"

Your shoulders shake and James is quick. He stands and pulls you up with him, holding your wrist as he drags you along and outside into the mostly empty hall. He gently pushes you against the wall, his knee slotted in between yours just to keep you still as his hand cups your cheeks and he tries to calm your soft cries.

"Hey, hey, why are you crying, sweetheart? What happened?" 

James doesn't understand. He'd left you alone for barely three hours and now you're in tears?

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice small. James's thumb wipes at your tears instantly.

And now you're apologizing?!

"What are you sorry for, dovey?" James asks as he looks at your sad expression and his chest hurts. 

"I-I think we should break up," you whisper, your voice shaky. 

James's eyes widen and his chest tightens. "What?!"

You cry a little harder as you try to explain yourself. "I- just– you deserve some head-strong Gryffindor girl who doesn't fall asleep when you're helping her. Someone prettier, smarter, someone who isn't like me. Someone who is more like you."

James's eyes darken when he hears you. "What are you talking about?!" He looks genuinely furious as he pushes some hair behind your ear and continues to hold your cheeks in his hand.

"You're talking nonsense. Don't you dare say things like that? You are what I deserve and so much more, do you understand me?"

You blink at him. You open your mouth to protest but James shakes his head and presses his thumb against your lips, looking at you pointedly. "If you wanna break up with me, I'm gonna need a better excuse than that."

He sounds serious and then he adds, "For example, 'oh, Jamie, I lost my memory and I can't remember you,'" he pauses his very inaccurate and rather cute impression of you for a moment, "but I think even then you'll be stuck with me so you're shit out of luck, huh??"

You laugh at the humor in it all and he finally smiles. 

"There," James kisses your cheek to remove any lingering marks of your tears. "That's much better. Now, where did all this come from?"

You clutch his shirt and mumble something incomprehensible as James pulls you in and kisses your hairline, smiling against your hair. 

"Gonna have to say it louder, sunshine."

"I heard some girls talking about me, about you—about us. It just made me feel so awful." 

James's jaw tenses. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows which girls— or which girl. He has to remember to take Sirius's advice and tell Samantha to piss off when he sees her next.

It's one thing to annoy him, it's another to hurt his girl. No one hurts you and especially no one makes you feel like you don't deserve to be with him.

"Don't listen to anything they say," James says sternly, "They don't matter. I love you. I chose you a million times over." He pulls back and tilts your chin with his hand. You lean your head back on the wall and look at him, sensing the truth behind his words and finally, your heart relaxes. "I love you," he adds.

"I love you too, Jamie," you say quietly. 

"Good," he leans and kisses your lips. He pulls away again and grins, "Now, excuse me while I go make that a public announcement—" he turns to walk away, heading for the doors to the Great Hall and your eyes round.

Knowing your boyfriend, he has no trouble shouting out his love for you, you rush after him, feeling much better. 

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with very little plot), softdom!zayne, reader feels a little low, kissing and making out, heavy petting, grinding/dry humping, marking, cuddle sex, comfort sex, soft and slow sex, mention of belly bulge, holding hands, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, slight cockwarming, praise, use of pet names "darling" "sweetheart". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 3.1k

an : i've been so...... very much....... in my zayne feels..... i don't usually write zayne bc he's so difficult for me to write but omfg 😭 i needed this for me LMAO

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @theanbitchless @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Are you certain you can fall asleep like this?"

The question made you pause.

There was a slight shift in movement, the faint clicking sound of his glasses being set on his nightstand. And though you'd barely tilted your head back up to look at him, you felt an arm rest gently over your waist, subtly guiding you to cuddle closer against his chest. You knew, then, that the book he'd been reading had been set aside, as well.

You closed your eyes.

In this position, he held you securely against him, your ear pressed up against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"What d'you mean?" you murmured. Your voice was slightly muffled.  "I'm okay, I told you I just wanted to be comfy... Why? Are you done reading?"

He didn't answer immediately, and it made you glance up.

His gaze was fond.

He took a moment—his thumb caressed your cheek, a warm gesture he knew worked to soothe you. It did exactly as he'd hoped, of course; your head lulled to the side, a content sigh leaving your lips. It was this that made the corners of his mouth twist up into a little smile.

"...Mm, it's enough for today," a soft chuckle fell from his lips. "But... it just feels as if something's different tonight."

This time, you felt his other hand trail over your back, moving in a soft, soothing rub.

Your gaze fixed on his.

His words stirred up a puddle of guilt, but it wasn't something you wanted to talk about.

"Something's... different? Zayne, I can assure you that I—"

"Please."

The excuse died on your lips.

The way he said it—such a simple word—was soft. Softer than usual. Enough so to get you to notice the way his eyes would search yours, that shade of hazel you'd always loved so dearly... The concern in his eyes was genuine, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"I... want to know what's been on your mind today. And it feels like you've been... thinking, quite a lot."

When he spoke again, you found that it was you who couldn't answer right away. And for your silence, you were met with another little smile, a chaste kiss placed into the crown of your head.

Zayne always had a way of compelling you to be more honest than you usually were.

You shook your head.

"M'just.... Not been feeling myself today, that's all," you said quietly.

Your eyes closed again, and you rest your head back down on his chest, finding comfort in the way his hand would start slowly massaging circles into your back.

"I see," he murmured. And there was something about the timbre in his voice that had you vocalizing your contentment with a little hum.

He didn't really say anything else.

You knew he wanted to, but this was just how he was—somehow he knew when you wanted to leave things as they were, and that his presence was, in this moment, simply enough.

You shifted to curl into him a little bit more, allowing your eyes to meet yet again.

"I don't want you to worry," you started.

"I know," he nodded.

"It's really just something trivial. It'll pass."

"...I know."

You smiled again, a little bit.

"I just... It feels like one of those days, you know? There's no real reason I've been feeling like this, sometimes it just happens, and..."

"And you don't want to concern me over it."

He finished it for you.

And this time, it was his turn to smile, his eyes settling into a soft gaze.

"I was simply... making sure," he murmured. A finger found its way beneath your chin, tilting it up a little, until his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle that it sent butterflies flurrying into your stomach. "If we're to sleep, I don't want you to go to bed upset."

"M'not upset..."

He chuckled a little, and you had to give him another ppout

"Really, I'm not!"

"I know."

He reached over to hold your thigh, gently guiding it to rest over his leg, before leaning in to kiss your forehead. You blinked. Trying to search his gaze would prove fruitless, but there was a hint of a tease that you could recognize in his tone.

"I believe you," he hummed, "but... would it be alright to hold you like this for a moment, anyway?"

Your eyes widened.

There was nothing too... much, about how close you were to him, certainly. Yet the more you looked at him, the more you could feel yourself drawing closer. You could only watch as his eyes closed, and he sighed, nuzzling his nose against yours.

"I'm not good with words." A shiver ran through your body as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, hot breath pricking at your skin. "But... If you don't like the person that you are today... then I would like to show you that I like her very much."

His arm slid beneath you to lock you into a tight embrace, pressing himself more insistently against you. His head dipped, lips attaching to your shoulder.

"Zayne..." you sucked in a breath as his teeth nipped at your skin.

The only reply you received was a soothing lap of his tongue against the mark he'd just made, and it was enough to draw out a quiet whine from you, raising your leg to wrap around his waist. The skirt of your nightgown rode up—it was near-immediate the way he reacted, then, a hand gliding down your back to gently grip at your soft flesh.

He smiled at your skin and pushed you slightly upwards. The erection poking against you was unmistakable.

"Z-Zayne!" you gasped, yet your hips moved nearly involuntarily, and he let out  a slow breath at the instigated friction.

"Shhhh."

His lips ghosted over yours, hazel eyes peering into your own.

"Let me take care of you?"

It was a question, still. He would never do anything you weren't up for, and you knew that—there was something about it that made your heart flutter. Add to it the fact that there wasn't even a need for him to cater to you like this; you knew this was nothing but a temporary feeling of yours. It wasn't necessary for you to receive any more affection him than you'd gotten that day. Yet... here he was, willing to offer just that.

You felt him lean in forward for another kiss—still gentle, still soft, your eyes closing into the sensation.

It was nice, like this.

Truly, you didn't have any complaints—he was being so sweet with you, and now, of all times. How could you refuse?

"...M'kay," you murmured against him. Your arm wrapped around his neck, and you felt him smile.

"You know that I cherish you, sweetheart, right?" he sighed contentedly.

Again his lips found yours, his hand stroking the side of your arm in a comforting motion. And for a while, it continued just like that—having you pressed up against him, his hand slipping beneath your down to leave goosebumps across your skin. Just soft, light, gentle caresses, your lips moving in sync enough to bring your bodies into a slow rocking motion.

Otherwise quiet, it was the kisses and soft panting that echoed in the room, having your hands gliding up to thread through his hair. Zayne could only pull you close, closer than close, his own hand returning to rub circles into your skin before resting on the small of your back. Every so often he would give a light squeeze, allowing you to grind yourself onto him, eliciting soft gasps that he would only swallow back into his kisses.

When your eyes opened, hazy and half-lidded, you could faintly make out the glowing outline of his silhouette. His cheeks were flushed by this point—they no doubt mirrored yours. The dim lighting of the lamp on the nightstand did nothing less than paint a soothing, ethereal image before you.

"...I love you," you murmured.

You'd said it without thinking, but they weren't particularly words that felt foreign to you.

Zayne chuckled, and it seemed that your confession had earned you another kiss.

"I know. And I love you."

Quiet, shuffling motions had your gown and his robe both discarded, and you groaned as his lips trailed down over your body. His head dipped, tracing your every curve, peppering kisses wherever he went, his hand stroking lovingly at your skin.

You curled into him—wrapping your leg back over his waist, wanting to feel his warmth all over you. You could hear the soft moans emanating from his lips, so busy suckling at your skin and leaving proof of his love everywhere that he possibly could. The harsher nips blended soothingly with his gentle caresses, hands kneading at your flesh as if to distract you from the slight sting of his marking.

"Oh, Zayne..." you moaned, rutting your hips against his bulge once more in an attempt to bring the both of you back into that slow, rocking rhythm.

Gradually he trailed his lips back up your body, from the dip or your hips, to your navel, to the valley of your breasts. Another mark beneath your collarbone that had you gasping, before kissing up your neck to meet your lips once more.

You could feel it; the satisfied smile etched on his lips as he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you. He wasn't saying it with words, but you could feel it—every kiss meant I love you.

"Feel better?" he whispered. His breath tickled the side of your neck as he gripped your thigh and held you around him, rocking his hips into yours. But he didn't wait for you to reply before he reached over to push your panties to the side, running a finger through the wetness that had pooled.

"Mmnh..." Your eyes closed, your hips bucking at the direct contact.

A chuckle and a few more kisses peppering your face before he spoke, "Are we okay with this?"

His finger ran up over your slit another time, collecting your slick before circling your entrance patiently.

You bit your lip.

It was just like him to ask for your consent again, even though you'd already been grinding against each other like this, even if he could already feel how wet he had gotten you.

But...

"Can we just... Can I have you, instead?"

Your voice came out a little shy, but the directness of your request remained punctuated by the way your hand drifted down to palm him through his boxers.

There was a certain surge of pride you felt, knowing your actions had gotten him this hard, had caused the shaky breath that he released, unable to stop his hips from jerking against you. In response to you, again your lips were captured into a kiss—and though he was keen on keeping the gentle atmosphere, there was a hint of desperation in the way his lips moved against yours.

"Mmm," he moaned quietly into you, hands making quick motions to free himself from the confines of his boxers.

You couldn't see it, too lost in the kiss, hands sliding up his body to cup his face for more of it—the sounds of lips smacking together became louder, more insistent, more heated.

But you felt it.

A hand on your ass, rubbing motions to keep your folds parted for him as the tip of his cock dipped teasingly into you. His legs slid against yours with the shallow thrusts he would give you, allowing you to get used to the feeling. And it was a stretch, nonetheless—no matter how many times you'd felt him inside you, you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, patiently waiting for him to ease himself in.

Your hand moved down to grip his back, almost hoisting yourself over him to spread your legs a little wider. "Mmh, Z-Zayne..."

You were panting, eyes steady on his, mouth slightly open. And with every thrust he made, he slid further and further into you, causing your breath to hitch.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" He brushed a few strands away from your face, placing soft kisses all over your face yet again. "I love you. You feel wonderful, darling."

A quiet moan left your lips as he squeezed your ass up once more, allowing you to take him in.

And it was a moment before either of you moved.

Quiet, hushed huffs of breath as you clenched around him, eyes heedy with desire with how closely you focused on the feeling of being full again. And his own gaze remained fixed upon yours. A hand rest on your cheek, thumbing at your skin, eyes so fondly looking into yours that you could melt.

There was no other place you could feel so loved than with him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "Darling, you look wonderful."

Your heart swelled, enough to have you drawing in a sharp breath.

It was so silly to think that this all started on the slightest inkling he had that you weren't feeling your best. And yet, he would never fail to make you feel loved. Whether you asked for it, or you didn't—he had his way of making sure you didn't feel unloved.

And it meant so much to you.

With a smile, your hips began to rock, and you cherished the groan that fell from his lips.

"You look wonderful, too, Zayne," you whispered back.

His head buried into your neck as you cradled him, his own hips moving in time with yours. Every languid pump of his cock pushed him deeper into you, bodies pressed so impossibly close that you could feel the head radiating off of the both of you. Flushed and heedy, you rolled against each other in a sensual waltz—it was the lamp on your bedside table that had your shadows dancing across the wall.

Gasps and pants permeated the air.

Slow, and deep, and steady... the slick sounds of your sex would mix in with the hushed moans that would slip from your lips, your vision already blurry in the haze of how deep he would fuck into you. The burn of his length dragging inside you was elating. You could feel each throb of his pulse inside you, his hand sliding slowly over your thigh, massaging your flesh.

"Zayne..." you breathed, "Zayne."

It was all you could say.

"A-ah... Ah~ Zayne..."

Muffled against your skin, his lips had resumed its attack on your neck, littering bruises that you knew you'd have trouble covering up the next morning. He would leave your skin with red marks all over it, a line of love bites from your nape up to your jawline—

But he wasn't rushing.

It was tender; affectionate, the way he made love to you.

You felt it.

He kept up the pace. Just slow, easy fucking motions as his lips latched back into yours. And everytime he sunk into you, you could feel your eyes roll back into your head, every listless thrust a reminder of how you could feel every inch of him inside you.

"Sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, "you're so good for me..."

It was only then that he made the subtle shift, rolling you onto your back and pressing his body onto yours. Your legs wrapped fully around his waist, and you could feel his weight push down on you, allowing him to sink even deeper and causing your eyes to widen with a gasp.

"Zayne!"

This time his hand found yours, fingers intertwining. With another kiss to your forehead, you felt him slide your hand over your body, pressing lightly into your lower abdomen enough to have your body arching into him.

"I'm right there, sweetheart," he murmured.

You could feel the faint outline of his cock moving in and out of you. He was pressing so deep into you that your head threw back, lifting your hips into him for more. Moans swallowed into more of his kisses, the room echoed with that soft sound of skin slapping against skin with a quiet, rhythmic, pap, pap, pap.

Your hands clawed at his back, his pace stuttering almost immediately at the sting from your nails. You could have delighted at the muffled curse he moaned into you, hips pressing you deeper into the mattress.

He detached himself from your lips, already red and swollen, and his breath fanned over your face. With his forehead resting against yours, you could clearly see that mixture of lust, and desire, and adoration swimming in the depth of his eyes—it made your heart jump.

His thrusts began to pick up the pace slightly, eliciting soft, staccato pants from you. He reached over to take your hands into his, pressing them up against the pillows and curling his fingers into you.

"Going to cum..." he whispered, a word of warning that had you nodding your head.

"Okay," you breathed. "Inside."

His eyes widened.

It was easy for you to use that opportunity to lock your legs around his waist, paying back the marks he'd left on your body by dipping your head to latch onto his neck.

With a gutteral groan, you felt it—hot streams of his cum painting your insides, the pulse of his cock a delight that sent you trembling over your own high. Moans muffled against your skin, you clung to him tightly, hands gripping his until your knuckles nearly turned white.

"Haah... haah... D-darling, you're..."

He panted into your ear, pulling the both of you back onto your sides as he rode you through your orgasm.

Your chest heaved, your vision blurry. Again you found your hand resting on his cheek, pulling your gazes up to meet each other.

"Zayne..." you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

Slowly, he churned the juices inside you, the wet noises nearly turning your face even more flushed than it had been.

Another kiss... and another, and another.

"Tired?" he murmured.

Still his hils continued to rock gently against yours, lighter, shallower thrusts as if to soothe you.

Your eyes fluttered closed.

"...Mhm."

You felt an arm wrap around you, bringing you back into that embrace of his that you loved so dearly.

"Feel better?"

You smiled.

"Mhm."

This time, he placed a kiss onto the top of his head, hips stilling inside you as he held you close.

"Good," he nuzzled into you. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll clean you up after a moment."

His soft strokes of your hair were enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing, then, you heard, was a small, quiet mumble:

"I love you."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[lyrefromthesea]

Could I ask for the hashira reaction waking up from anesthesia after needing surgery from a mission? I had seen a video of a guy still dizzy and goofy from the anesthesia after surgery... Like, the guy did not recognize his wife and said, when she touch him, that his wife would get mad seeing a pretty girl touching his chest, he was shocked and flirty after she said SHE was his wife.

Male Hashira x reader - anasthesia

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

when the nurse told you to bring your husband home as soon as possible, you were skeptical. what if he was hurt? did they hope he would be at home when he collapsed so the hospital could say it wasn't their fault?

you scoffed, not leaving until the nurse told you what was going on. you didn't expect to hear that your husband had been tormenting everyone entering his assigned room.

"some sunny day!~" his voice was ringing through the hallway, forcing you to quickly enter and close the door. it would be embarrassing to disturb the other patients, especially when the reason was a singing husband.

"Tengen, tone it down please!" you scolded him, but the man only looked at you with lazy eyes. hoping that he still followed your words, you looked at him with a glimmer of relaxation in your eyes.

only to hear him start again.

"we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when."

you couldn't decide whether the feeling of embarrassment or the charm he possessed in this weird situation took over your mind, but it certainly got your face heating up.

Obanai:

"what.. are you sure..?" the way his heterochromic eyes stared at you in confusion and adoration made you chuckle. he was completely out of it after waking up.

"yes, i'm sure. you're my boyfriend, remember?" he could only stare in utter disbelief, his eyes wandering over your body and then back to your face.

after a minute of silence, he let his head plop against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"and you're sure this is not a dream..?" he assured himself, opening his eyes to give you a testing glance. when you chuckled and nodded in response, he looked at the ceiling.

"this is the best day of my life.." he mumbled, his eyes falling shut. you laughed into the silence, hearing the man quietly snore.

he was awake a moment later, looking even more confused than before.

"[name].. are you laughing at me..?"

you spend the next five minutes explaining the situation to him. and he fell asleep right after.

Rengoku:

now how did this happen?

you couldn't move closer to your husband without worrying that he drops dead. he looked tired, not in the state to realize what was happening around him, nor could he answer.

yet he still managed to realize your exact location and showed a nonverbal response to it. everytime you came closer his heartbeat would pick up.

it basically skyrocketed when you touched his arm, the machine next to his bed sending out high sounds to signal raising heartbeat.

when you went to find a doctor, telling him exactly what happened, you were met with a laughing face.

"don't worry about it, your husband must be quite excited to see you."

you were dumbfounded by the doctors words. of course the thought of Rengoku growing flustered was cute, but not like this! you couldn't step closer without risking his heartbeat increase tenfold.

the whole story made him feel embarrassed whenever he heard it again.

Sanemi:

"have you ever thought of getting.. babies?" you spit out your drink, looking at him with shock, confusion and embarrassment.

did he really just say that?

"Sanemi, you can't be serious. I'm not able to-" you were quickly interrupted by a hand on yours. he had slid his scarred fingers over, gently placing them on your hands.

"i know, i know.."

thinking he had let go of the topic, you slowly avert your gaze. sitting next to his be had been proven quite difficult. who thought a gentle Sanemi was almost more exhausting than a normal Sanemi? just almost.

"what about adopting little rascals?" he checked, as if not birthing the children yourself made it any better. there were obvious reasons why you wouldn't get a child.

"what is it with you today?"

"..'m sorry, but ya would look so good carrying a small one around." the thought made your face warm up, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

"you should try getting some sleep now." you told him, watching the man groan, but close his eyes. it didn't take him long to fall asleep, softly snoring beside you.

that was just the medicine speaking out of him, he will have forgotten everything once he's awake again. right?

Giyuu:

"so pretty.." Giyuu said, hand still attached to your arm. when you entered the room earlier, he had immediately grabbed it and not let go since.

"love.." he mumbled, a curious hum left your lips. he was behaving different than before, but you wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything dangerous.

besides, you found his more open side to be quite cute. he was a good lover, but often found himself having problems with wording his feelings. and after he woke up, all of it slipped out, leaving his lips like a river.

"you're so pretty, so smart.." he uttered, taking in a deep breath, "so breathtaking."

your cheeks were starting to heat up, not used to the many compliments you were receiving. "you think so?"

"absolutely, you consume my every thought.."

who knew Giyuu could be such a charmer? you would certainly tease him about it once he was back to normal.

Gyomei:

"Gyomei, I'm coming in.."

your voice was soft, slowly opening the door to his room and stepping inside. he didn't react, not even when you closed the door again, making your way to his bed.

you have never seen the gentle giant quite like this. sure, he was always a kind soul, but there was something more peaceful about him. the turn of his head was slow, acknowledging your presence with a small nod.

"are you feeling okay, i heard they needed to use more than usual.." you worried, he was bigger and taller than most, of course the treatment would be different for him. placing your hand on his cheeky you gently rubbed your thumb against his skin, watching the man close his eyes and lean into your touch.

he looked tired, exhaustion written over his features. with a small hum, you pulled back. "you should rest some more, the doctors said that you need a lot of sleep."

his hand moved to cradle your fingers into his palm, letting himself relax into his bed again. you understood, he wanted you to stay by his side, even while sleeping.

letting your hands stay in his hold, you made yourself comfortable on the chair next to him. this would be a long night, but it would all be worth it.

[bloodrvvvsh]

I Have No Shame. | Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer joins the Mile High Club with your help.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Warnings: Handjobs, semi-public sex, they get caught (sort of?), soft sub!Spencer, soft dom!Reader, Spencer being a whimpering whining mess, facials, cum eating, established relationship, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, honey, good boy), literally so much praise, a little bit of crying from Spencer, like one (1) use of Y/N, slight dumbification, begging

Word count: 1.5K

Notes: My first Spencer fic wow!!!! It’s been so long since I’ve written an actual fic, I missed it so much. Anyways I hope you all enjoy! For this I imagined like s1-s4 Spence but could technically be interpreted as any season

Cross-posted on A03.

Spencer Reid was not a bold man.

In fact, he would go as far to say he was the total opposite. At least, in his personal life he certainly was. He never made the first move, always waiting for that perfect time that never came.

He didn’t like taking risks. Even calculated ones were too much for him sometimes. So he stayed in his little bubble of comfort and safety. He liked it there. Sure, it might make him the subject of a bit of teasing and he missed out on a few things, but at the end of the day he still liked it there.

Until he met you.

You were everything he wasn’t. Outgoing, daring, bold. In some ways, you could even be described as a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It’s actually partly what led you to joining the FBI. You liked the thrill, the high stakes, the way it got your blood pumping when you had to chase down a criminal on the loose. 

You lived for taking risks. The idea of never truly knowing what might happen made your spine tingle, every one of your hairs stand on. There wasn’t a better feeling than feeling a little sick to your stomach with nerves and excitement for you.

It's an interesting dynamic you and Spencer had - he was all for playing it safe and keeping to himself, while you could be a wildcard. Spencer learned that very quickly after you two started dating. And while it wasn’t that you were trying to change him (you would never!), you were simply opening him up to things he wouldn’t have thought twice about.

Everyone else on the jet was fast asleep. Slumped over and curled up in positions that would certainly give them a knot in their neck later. Spencer had his head laid over your lap, curls sprawled across your thighs while you mindlessly twirled the strands around your fingers. 

You were still wide awake. The rush of the case just closed still ran hot through your veins. You’d most definitely crash later once in the sanctity of your apartment, but for now you were full of energy. You tried to distract yourself by staring out the jet window, watching the world go by, but it wasn’t working.

You glanced down at the pretty boy sprawled across you like a sleeping angel and a little thought popped into your head. You shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter, before you gently threaded your fingers into Spencer’s hair. Your nails scraped across his scalp and you almost swore you could have heard a little purr rumble in his chest.

You leaned over him, breathing slowly in vain attempt to settle your already racing heart. “Spence,” you crooned softly. “Spencer, wake up, baby.” Once Spencer actually fell asleep, he was a fairly light sleeper. It didn’t take much before he was stirring awake with a quiet groan.

“What is it?” he asked, voice thick with sleep. His hands raised to rub at his eyes and you could only smile. “Did we land?”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, “No, I just..” You trailed off a little as your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip. “I had an idea.” You stood to your feet and offered your hand out to him. He quirked an eyebrow, glancing between your face and outstretched hand, before slowly placing his in your grasp.

There was a little bit of a bounce in your steps as you led him in the direction of the bathroom and in that moment, Spencer regretted agreeing to whatever you were about to do. He squeezed your hand and you tossed  him a smile that reeked of mischief over your shoulder.

It was a tight squeeze once inside. Because, like most airplane bathrooms, it was meant to only fit one person at a time. That didn’t stop a lot of people, though. And you were one of them.

You crashed your lips against his the minute the door locked behind the two of you. It was hot, full of passion and lust as your hands roamed over his body. He whimpered softly against your lips before relaxing into the kiss. His hands were warm and broad against your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You didn’t waste time when you wanted something, and you wanted him right here and now. Your hands drifted until they hit their target - his belt. You broke for air, panting heavy and hard, as you tried to make quick work of shedding the layers between you and his dick.

“Y/N-” he gasped. “Wait, wait-” He took hold of your wrists, halting your movements. His eyebrows pinched together and his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. “What if we get caught?”

You grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to be quiet so we won’t.” You knew just how much of a struggle it was for Spencer to keep himself under control when he was feeling good. The noise complaints from your neighbors were proof enough. 

Your hand dipped into his pants and underwear and you tried to suppress the smirk that threatened to spread over your face when you wrapped your fingers for his half-hard cock. He gasped, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth when you shot him a look.

His eyes rolled back as you began to stroke along his length. Your thumb brushed over the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering and Spencer’s knees buckled. Your pace was slow, almost languid, teasing.

“Please,” Spencer whined. You grinned once more.

“Please what?” you murmured. You leaned even closer to him, somehow, hovering over his lips. You were both breathing heavily and practically sharing breaths. You took a moment to look over his adorably flushed face. “You’re so pretty, Spence..”

“Please.” He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, pleasure clouding his usually bright mind. “Please, please, pl-ease.” His voice cracked when you sped up, his head lulling back. “F-feels so good, oh god.”

You cooed at the state of him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Faux pity coated your words, making Spencer whine again. “Come on, use your words, honey. I can’t read minds.” You snickered.

His hand jumped to grab your wrist, not to stop you, no. He was too far gone to stop you now. He simply held it there, keeping a tight grip on you as you jerked his cock. 

He looked like a total mess. An absolutely stunning mess, but a mess nonetheless. Curls sticking to his forehead and cheeks, plush lips parted in soft moans, eyes squeezed tight, face flushed shades of red. His hips arched into your touch, cock twitching in your hold.

“Are you gonna cum?” you asked and he nodded frantically. His lips twitched into a soft frown as tears began to well in his big brown eyes. God, he always the prettiest he was all dumb and fucked out. “Good boy,” you crooned at him.

You dropped down to your knees. You finally freed his dick from the confines of his underwear and he hissed at the feeling of the cold air. You didn’t waste a moment to resume your ministrations.

“Look at me, Spencer,” you commanded and he immediately followed the order. He nearly lost it at the sight of you on your knees before him. “Good boy, that’s it..” You picked up the pace even further, hand almost a blur stroking him.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” he stumbled over his words, unable to even form proper words as the pleasure grew. You shook your head.

“Do it, Spence,” you commanded again. “You can do it. Cum all over my face, pretty boy.” And that’s all it took for Spencer to tumble right over the edge. He tightened his grip on your wrist, back arching as he spilled over your face in thick spurts.

You worked him through his orgasm, stroking slow and gently, until he began to whine from overstimulation. You slowly rose to your feet and Spencer was already offering you paper towels to clean yourself. You ran a finger through one of the streaks of cum on your face and brought it to your lips, eyes fluttering shut and soft groans escaping you as you tasted him.

When you opened your eyes again, he was beet-red and looking oh-so shy and cute. You giggled. You gladly took the paper towels and began to wipe away the remnants of his cum.

You connected your lips in a chaste kiss when you were finished, making him blush even more. “You did such a good job, angel,” you praised before pressing another kiss to his lips. He tucked himself back into his jeans and buckled them back up. You entangled your fingers together, leading him out of the bathroom.

You made your way back to your seats, a sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. “Reid?” The call of your boyfriend’s name had you both glancing back to see Hotch awake in one of the jet chairs. “Don’t do that again”

Heat washed over both of your cheeks and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the growing smile on your lips. “Yes, sir,” Spencer said with a nod of his head.

At least you had fun.

[angelltheninth]

The status said "requests open" & TWST is currently the hyperfixation ravaging my autistic brain, so I propose the following!!

(If this is too many characters tho; I mainly just want Leona, Malleus, Azul & Jamil.)

The Overblot boys accidentally blurting out will you marry me? to the Reader who is doing something completely benign but it warms his heart as he realizes he's head over heels.

You're just so kind & warm, but not that sickeningly sweet naivete that makes them scowl. No, you're aware of the bad in the world— but in spite of it, you show him that kindness. Sure, he's lost his temper or just been rude to you out of frustration, but you don't take it lying down nor do you shut him out. You're understanding without being condescending. You make him feel wanted & seen & sincerely appreciated, even with all his flaws and bad habits.

(Bonus: he backtracks out of embarassment, but Reader gently teases him about that mushy response, subtly implying they're open if he manages to get the nerve to go for it.)

Cute as hell oh my god!

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Jamil Viper, Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, accidental marriage proposal, kiss, being flustered, date night, cuddles

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I wouldn't hesitate to marry them. All four of them.

Leona was half asleep when he asked you to marry him, you would have missed it entirely if you weren't cuddling up against his chest when it happened. He tried to convince you this was just a dream, he would never be tied down and you can't make him. This is all very redundant given that he was the one who proposed to you, so in actuality he wants to be called yours doesn't he? He does, he can't deny it now, and before he tries to backtrack, your answer is a yes.

Azul asked that on a contract as a joke asking you if you would sign a contract like that. The last thing he expected was for you to sign it in a heartbeat and ask him where's he's putting his name. For a man who makes as many deals and contracts as he does he is rarely rendered speechless and stunned by someone else, he stared at the paper, blinking rapidly. He couldn't believe you were so ready to marry him, you must love him more than you let on.

Jamil always teases you with fake marriage proposals so you begin saying no every time just to see what he'd do next. Of course he takes this as a challenge to try to get you to say yes, which becomes sort of a contest between the two of you, to see who will fold first. To get an edge up on you when he asks you he kisses you to stop you from saying no, little did he know that you were about to say yes. When you tell him that he asks you again, excited, but you say no again.

Malleus blurted it out while you were running your hands through his hair and massaging the base of his horns. It felt so good, he was so relaxed and completely lovestruck by you so the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. Immediately he starts apologizing, panicking, he doesn't know what he was thinking or if he was even thinking. His cheeks grew a bright pink, his pointy ears too but instead of laughing you kissed him, you would love to be his bride.

[satelitis]

꒰ NECK KISSES ꒱ . . . p. jackson !

pairing(s) : percy jackson x reader.

in which your boyfriend percy becomes super clingy when tired.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : kissing,flirting,use of cute pet names, toothrotting fluff.

robin chirps : thank you to @spaceagebachelormann for encouraging my thoughts of the love of my life percy and for giving me the breakthrough idea for this cute little blurb. ily zigma 🫶🏼.

you felt a dip in the spot next you. well, more like an earthquake, because your boyfriend percy had flung himself on the bed beside you, a soft and muffled group escaping his lips in doing so.

you smiled softly at the mop of curls laying face down next to you as you continued reading. percy looked up at you as your eyes scanned the pages of the novel.

“baby…” percy chimed. you looked up from your task once again. you hummed softly, indicating he should continue with whatever he had to say. he didn’t say anything, he just layed his head of curls on your book as it was in your lap. you laughed softly as you moved your book over, placing a bookmark between the pages and setting it on your nightstand.

you subconsciously started playing with percy’s hair, running your fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

as you two adjusted and he was now laying on your chest as you two lay in the dark, he placed soft angel like kisses on your neck, one after the other. his hair tickling your collarbone and jawline as well. you giggled.

”i love you.” he mumbled quietly in the crook of your neck. “so so so much.” he continued tracing small shapes on your collarbone area.

“i love you too.” you replied. “more than anything.” you told him tracing the freckles on his upper arm.

he smiled, and you smiled. a chaste kiss was shared between the two of you. your soft pink lips and percy’s slightly chapped but sweet lips connected for a brief couple of seconds before breaking apart.

there was a serene silence, until percy spoke up. “did y’know you’re really pretty?” he asked, looking up at you with those eyes. you rolled your eyes softly as you blushed and couldn’t conceal the cheesy smile on your face.

“what? it’s true. you’re the prettiest, best, most amazing, sweetest person i have ever met.” he spoke. you shook your head with that goofy grin on your face, you couldn’t seem to wipe off.

the next hour was filled with kisses. all over, on the temple, on the forehead, on the cheek but especially on the neck.

as you continued moving your fingers through percy’s hair softly, he fell asleep in your arms. soft snores came from his slightly parted lips. you kissed his temple softly, as you cherished the moment and fell asleep as well.

[birdiewriteslit]

Omg I love Persassy LOL. I was thinking maybe you could do an imagine where Percy knows about Luke and Reader but doesn’t like it and sasses them all the time but so basically Luke and Reader are kind of having a “date night” but in Luke’s cabin and they’re just like laying in his bed and stuff but the morning after, Percy is wondering the Reader is because the Reader is his half sister and like he goes the Luke’s cabin to ask him where Reader is and he finds them asleep in the same bed and he gets mad and sassy and starts lecturing Reader and Luke while they’re all confused because they just woke up🤣🤣

omg yes i can totally do this

luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: persassy (do i even have to say it?), fluff, general show plot ignorance

Percy was staring at you with an unpleasant look on his face as you stole glances at Luke from the Poseidon table.

“Can you not do that in front of my dinner?”

Luke met your eyes from across the room. He grinned at you and you smiled dreamily back at him. “Do what?”

“Ogle him,” Percy said as though it was obvious.

You snapped your gaze to Percy’s. “I’m not ogling him.”

“You so are. Please refrain,” he persisted.

“How about you refrain from having an attitude?” you countered.

“This attitude is your fault,” he sassed, flicking a pea at you.

You caught it before as it rolled off the table and flung it back at his face. He flinched as it hit him and it fell on the floor. “You’re impossible.”

Percy shrugged. “You love me.”

You didn’t say anything. You would be lying if you denied it. Percy seemed to understand anyway, as he held back from sharing any thoughts about Luke for the rest of the meal.

If there was one thing you knew about your half-brother, it was that he was a little menace. He was always telling off your boyfriend for random things. These things mostly consisted of Luke’s actions in hypothetical situations Percy had made up.

He was also always telling you that you were too good for Luke. You were sure he would say that about any guy you dated though, because Luke was probably the best guy around.

He was always nice to Percy, and he easily combatted his sass, which you honestly thought Percy secretly enjoyed.

Deep down, you knew Percy actually liked Luke and looked up to him a lot, not that he would ever admit it.

After campfire that night, Luke was at your cabin, swinging the door open and calling your name.

“What do you want?” Percy responded rudely.

“Take a guess,” Luke said, unbothered.

“Percy, watch your attitude,” you said, walking toward the door and giving Luke a quick kiss.

“Bleh. Stop being nasty in here,” Percy objected.

“Lucky for you, we’re leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer him and let the door swing shut behind you as you left the cabin.

“Y/n?” he called from inside.

Luke held your hand as you walked together to his cabin. Some of his siblings were asleep when you entered, and some of them let out a few teasing comments, but all of them were used to you sleeping there every once in a while.

“Lights out,” Luke said, flipping the light switch. A few campers groaned in protest before collapsing onto their beds.

You climbed into Luke’s bunk after him and he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. You relaxed into his touch, falling asleep quickly.

The next morning you were not awoken by the sun, but by your brother. “Well, well, well,” he said, standing over the bunk with his arms folded.

“Perce?” you said, sleep evident in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in the cabin when I woke up, so I used my critical thinking skills, and here we are,” he explained.

Luke stirred next to you, taking his hand off of your hip to rub his eyes. “Baby? Has the conch blown yet?”

“Yeah, thirty minutes ago. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. How irresponsible,” Percy scoffed.

“Next time, we’ll sleep in our cabin, so you can wake us up at the right time,” you suggested.

Percy scrunched up his face in disgust. “Absolutely not. I don’t need to hear whatever weird stuff you freaks get up to. I need my beauty sleep, but you probably wouldn’t understand that, Luke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, offended.

“Hurry up and get dressed. I hate sitting alone,” Percy demanded and left you and Luke alone in the cabin again.

You turned back into his warmth, refusing to get out of bed. Luke got the message, pulling the blanket up over you. Percy could survive one day without you at the table.

[dixons-sunshine]

“Claire?”

“No, I don't really like that.”

“Mhm. Blaire, then?”

“Maybe. But I'm not so sure.”

“Trixie?”

“God, no. I'm not giving our child a hooker's name.”

“Jesus, woman. M'runnin' outta names 'ere. Everythin' I say is either “no” or “maybe”. Wha's a guy gotta do to get a “yeah” 'round 'ere?”

You laughed and placed a tender kiss to the top of Daryl's head, your fingers gently working through his hair. “I just don't know. Besides, what makes you so certain our baby will be a girl?”

Daryl hummed and nuzzled his face deeper into your chest. “M'not certain,” he began, his fingers lightly tapping against your bump to a rhythm you didn't know. “Jus' still ponderin' over boy names. None of 'em seem righ', y'know? If s'a boy, I want him to have a badass name.”

“DJ.”

Daryl slightly raised his head to look at you, his eyebrows quirked in interest. “DJ?”

“Yup,” you told him. “Daryl Junior.”

Daryl scoffed and laid his head back down on your chest. “Nah, we ain't namin' our kid after me. S'where I put my foot down.”

You chuckled in amusement. “What? I think it's cute. Having a little you is a nice thing to think about.”

“Nah.” Despite his protest, Daryl couldn't help the small smile that spread over his face at the suggestion. He would never give in, but he appreciated the thought. A little him. It was both thrilling and terrifying to think about. “How 'bout Adam?”

It was your turn to scoff this time. “I thought you wanted our kid to have a badass name, not an I'm-about-to-do-your-taxes name.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “I like it. S'not my fault yer so picky.”

You faked an offended gasp, lightly hitting him on the arm. “I'm not picky. I just don't wanna give our kid a name that we'll end up regretting.”

Daryl chuckled again. “Yeah, I know.” Daryl placed a soft kiss to your cheek before settling back into your chest again. “'Sides, ya wouldn't be the woman I fell in love with if ya weren't jus' the slightest bit picky.”

You smiled at him fondly. “I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, Sunshine.” A few minutes of silence passed between the two of you, and you had started to think that he had fallen asleep, until he spoke up again. “How 'bout Leonard?” The sound of your groan had Daryl full-on laughing, a rare thing for the archer. “Wha'? S'a good name.”

“Sure, if you say so.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[fragilefable]

nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller. 

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman. 

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking. 

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins. 

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl." 

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird." 

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?" 

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair. 

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you. 

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck. 

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first. 

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay." 

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately. 

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel." 

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army." 

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway. 

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck. 

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!" 

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise." 

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."  

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance. 

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone." 

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-" 

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within. 

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front. 

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive. 

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!" 

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?" 

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?" 

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?" 

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home." 

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young. 

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice. 

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still... 

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.  

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know." 

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house. 

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through. 

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand." 

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse. 

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."  

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know. 

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you? 

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?" 

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault. 

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him. 

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail. 

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart. 

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams. 

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her. 

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think." 

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy. 

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen. 

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere. 

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street. 

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer. 

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades. 

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me." 

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'." 

© 2023 fragilefable do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

divider by @saradika

[6okuto]

AN INCH BETWEEN US

osamu x gn!reader | ~800 words, he calls you hon once, you're getting married! :3

“you don’t usually get nervous.”

“well,”—osamu fiddles with his cufflink, eyes trained on the metal around his finger—“today’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

make sure you don’t see each other before you get out there, atsumu warned as he pat your fiancé’s back. bad luck or somethin’.

doesn’t make sense if we’re doin’ a first look, idiot.

oh, shut up. don’t look at each other ’til then, then!

your back rests against the door, his on the other side keeping it from closing. maybe it’s just a silly superstition, but it cements today as something real, reminds you that it’s happening.

you reach your hand around to search for his own. “at least we’ll be together the whole time. and then we can say goodbye, and go home, and get out of these clothes, and sleep—”

osamu groans and rests his head against the wood—you don’t think he’s slept properly in two weeks, head scrambled and busy with preparations and the same nervous buzz as yours; the fact that he fell asleep before 1am last night was a miracle.

his hand finds yours, engagement ring resting cool against your skin, palm warm and a little rough. he mumbles, “thank god i closed the shop for a few days, if you told me to wake up any earlier than 9 tomorrow i think i’d die.”

“why are you- we haven’t even gotten to the actual wedding, ’samu.”

“okay? i’m tired and ’m gonna get even more tired. i just wanna cuddle at home. can a man not dream?” he defends, and all but whines. you snort but relent, letting him pull your hand closer and settle into a quiet.

“what if i fall?” he blurts out.

“...what?” a laugh escapes you. “you won’t fall.”

“i could trip down the aisle.”

“you won't.”

he squeezes your fingers. “didn’t realize i was marrying someone who could see the future?”

“’samu. you won’t fall, but if you get in my head and i fall, i’m blaming you,” you warn with a teasing lilt.

a beat passes, and you can tell he’s smiling as you stare at the couch ahead of you.

sitting on a wooden hotel floor, wedding attire on and hair not done, bed covered in supplies and friends’ outfits, the buzz of the air conditioner making it a little too cold in your room—you think you’re content like this, because at least you’re here with him.

shuffling a little closer, he says your name.

“hm?”

the inch between you feels a little bigger as osamu lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, lingering on your ring finger a second longer than the others—“i’m glad i get to marry you.”

your grip tightens, and if osamu listened carefully, you think he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest in search of his.

the elevator dings somewhere down the hall.

“i’m glad i get to marry you, too.”

“samu!” his twin’s voice rings out. “are you done cryin’, or do i haveta drag y’back to get your hair done?”

“god, ’tsumu, yeah, i’m comin’, stop yellin’!” he chides with a huff.

atsumu scoffs before replying—something about his twin being ungrateful for all he does—then walks back to the elevator. you hear a sigh. “guess i should go, huh?”

a thumb rubs the back of your hand, and you almost tell him to stay, but there isn’t much time, and it won’t be long before you’re pushing it. taking a deep breath, you let go to stand up first. “mhm.”

the door squeaks at the weight now gone as you both stretch.

you turn to say goodbye, the open door and shadow in the hall taunting you, but freeze when a familiar hand starts to push the door open.

“wh- samu!” your hand flies up to push his grey bangs out of view.

“woah- what- shit- sorry, sorry. habit, was gonna kiss ya,” he apologizes with a stumble.

panic evaded, your heart rate comes down and he huffs. “my- seriously, hon, you’re lucky my hair isn’t done yet.”

“...sorry, i—” you try to hide a laugh. “i’m sorry, i panicked.”

“no, really?”

“’samu,” you whine, embarrassment painted across your face, though he can’t see. he laughs outside, and you try to ignore the heat in your face.

“...at least you’ll kiss me later, right?” you ask quietly.

“....yeah.” there’s a smile in his voice, a pause, a rustling of fabric as he pats down his suit once more. “see you out there?”

you place your hand on the doorknob. “see you out there.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @sleepyxxhead @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @akari-fujikawa @chocopuchino @hearts4itoshi @ur-local-simp @tnshjfk

[dira333]

Nightmare remedies - Bakugo x Reader

For @satorisoup because some BNHA episodes can be triggering

Katsuki is dead.

You’ve forgotten how to breathe, your heart beating so hard against your ribcage you fear the bones might break. 

Not far from you, bleeding out on the ground, is your lover, eyes open and empty.

You can’t even scream as your lungs fight for just a little bit more oxygen-

“Baby?!” Your whole body shakes and then your back, blinking into the bright lights of your living room. “Baby, breathe!” 

Katsuki’s holding you now, your body pressed so tightly against his you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. But it helps as you breathe in tune with him. In and out. In and out.

“What happened?” You manage to mumble, voice hoarse, mouth dry.

“You fell asleep on the couch. I was just in the bathroom brushing my teeth, getting ready when I heard a weird noise. Were you even breathing? You went really still!”

He sounds worried. You sink further into his touch, press your mouth against his collarbone where his shirt slipped down. It tastes like him, feels like him. He’s real. Alive and real.

“You died, Katsuki,” you whimper, digging your nails into your shoulders. “You died.”

“Shh, no, it was a bad dream.” He rocks you back and forth, gentle, gentle. “I’m here. I’m here.”

You don’t want to talk about your dream. Katsuki’s not forcing you to. He’s not a stranger to nightmares, knows how persistent they can be. 

You don’t have to explain. He lifts you with ease, carries you like one does a child, legs folded over his hip, your head resting on his beating heart. 

He’s okay. He’s alive. He’s real.

“Want something to eat?” He asks, walking through the brightly lit apartment with you tied to him. “An apple, maybe? Here, drink some water.”

“Can we take a bath?” You ask instead. He sighs, but relents, dropping almost a whole bottle of bath oil into the tub. The good one, that he bought you for when you have trouble sleeping. The water turns a deep, sparkling purple and you sink into it’s warmth only to lean back into him, his arms crossing in front of you.

“Tell me something funny,” you ask, rubbing his knees that are now on either side of you, popping out of the water like pale islands. 

“Something funny,” he drawls, resting his chin on the top of your head as he thinks. “Ah. Do you remember the dog that Shoto found? The one he thinks looks like me?”

“The pomeranian?” You giggle. “Of course, I remember him. I wanted him so bad.”

Katsuki scoffs. “Of course you do. Well, apparently the dog needs to be fostered and Shoto volunteered. He named him Kacchan.”

You gasp. “Can we get him? It would be so cute!”

“No.” Katsuki splashes you with water. “One Kacchan in this house is enough.”

“But-” He bites your ear, gently, but hard enough to make a point.

“A cat then?” You ask, leaning back far enough to grin up at him. “I saw one that looked a little like Deku.”

“I don’t want some furrspawn watch me make out with you.”

“Katsuki,” you whine, half-laughing. “They don’t do that.”

“That’s what you’re saying.” He huffs, his big hands rubbing your legs. “But I know better.”

You snuggle into him, let the warm water and the soothing scents do their thing.

A yawn works itself out of you.

“But-” you start again, only to stop. You forgot the rest of your argument.

Katsuki kisses the top of your head.

“Relax,” he mutters, “I’ve got you.”

You wake up in your bed, the sunlight kissing your face.

Katsuki’s snoring softly next to you, one arm curled around you, keeping you safe.

The nightmare has lost its bite, but your hand still moves to his chest, your fingertips searching for the rise and fall, the beat of his heart. 

Katsuki grumbles low in his throat and pulls you closer.

He’s real. He’s alive. He’s yours.

[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

taglist: @chericherrybaby, @fratbrochrisgf, @sturncakez <33

author’s note: so... funny story, girls... i got home from work last night and started writing but fell asleep with my phone on my face. hope you can forgive me, though. anyways, enjoyyy! xo 💋💋💋

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟸/𝟸)

friday night, 9pm. 

you smile excitedly as you are getting ready to a party at the triplets house, eyes and hands are focused on the eyeliner, red lipstick already highlighting the lips and a black short dress moulding your curves. on top of that, underneath it, you were wearing orange lingerie. chris favorite colour, was it a little petty? yes, but you’re not about to lose this dare. absolutely no fucking way.

when you finished recording the video with them, nick had the idea of throwing a party the next day, he wanted to see chaos between you and chris for his own entertainment and so did matt. chris, on the other hand, has already been sending you risky texts and some pictures of his covered hard dick and other parts of the body he knew you were attracted to with captions like “give up already.” and “can’t wait to hear you beg and moan my name.”

you ignored all of it just to give him the impression you were threatened and shy when in reality, there was a whole plan ready to be put in action since he opened his mouth.

finally, you’re done. everything looked impeccable: hair falling over your chest that was mostly exposed by the dress cleavage, a pair of black tights that were connected to the lingerie and black leather boots that went to your knees, not to mention you smell incredible.

after checking yourself one more time in the mirror, a smirk painted in your lips, chris was not ready for that. 

it was 10:30pm when you arrived at their house, loud music playing and people everywhere dancing, drinking and even throwing up.

you calmly go through the crowd of people when a pair of hands suddenly grab your hips pressing both bodies and you feel lips into your ear. the person didn’t even need to say anything, you could tell who it was by their scent.

“ready to be my little slut?” you feel the hot breath caressing your skin and the deep voice with a stupid cocky chuckle.

“not even in your dreams, christopher.” you reply, turning to him. matt and nick behind him laughing, that’s definitely the most fun they’ve been having in a while.

he smirks and you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing his body, he has a black tank top that was complimenting his collar bones, shoulders and abdomen. 

and chris would notice you savouring him, but he was too busy staring at your boobs. his mind racing with the thoughts of cumming all over them.

“it feels like i’m watching a porn without the sex part, just the eyes.” matt says and you both break glances at each other laughing.

“is no one gonna grab me a drink?” you ask, rolling your eyes and nick give you a “excuse me?” look.

“you’ve been here more than our parents, go get it yourself.” he replies and you just shrug.

“fucking worst host ever.” you murmur making sure he heard before going to the kitchen and opening the fridge, all you could think of was chris.

he looked so hot wearing that damn black tank top, why didn’t you notice how attractive he was before the bet? it’s like a blindfold was taken away from your eyes, you imagined him on his knees, pleading and whimpering in front of you. things got even more interesting now.

you grab a drink and take a huge sip, ignoring the burning feeling in your throat and walking again through the people, some you knew, some not. you danced either way, a few guys eyeing you from afar and then one came behind you, dancing.

“you alone?” he whispered into your ear and you smiled, turning to him and grabbing his hands to dance.

“always.” he smiles back at you, rolling you around and grabbing your hips. you started dancing, he was cute and really hot.

that didn’t last much, though. 

someone abruptly grabbed your hand, making you look behind you with an angry expression. 

“today you’re not.” 

it was chris.

the guy just stared at chris and vanished away not wanting any trouble, you glance at the blue eyed boy, giving him the dirtiest look.

“what?” he shrugs, smiling. “i’m not sharing you with anyone today, whether you like it or not.”

you give him an eye roll but you’re not mad, it’s not like that guy was hotter than chris anyway.

“don’t ever grab my hand like that again.” you tell him with a serious face and he just nods, looking apologetic. “only if i allow you to.”

you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and rocking your body to the music. chris instantly smiles, his hands pressing hard on your hips. your fingers running to his hair, and you can’t help but push them back making him gasp.

“you’re such a menace.” he whispers, a hand sliding to your ass and turning you around.

you could feel everything, his hips crushing into yours and his dick getting harder everytime you brushed your ass while dancing. part of your plan was working and you didn’t even get started yet.

you turn to chris and place your hand around his neck, nails scratching it slightly causing him goosebumps.

he couldn’t resist the temptation, grasping your back and leaning in for a kiss, but you stopped him with a finger on his lips.

“not yet.” you smirk at him and he stares at you confused. “just shut your mouth and just follow me, or you won’t be having any fun tonight.” he thinks for a while and nods, not saying anything, the finger drawing a straight line down from his lips to his collar, dragging him upstairs.

when you both get to his room, he closes the door and throws you on the bed, getting on top of your body and pressing his torso against you.

you smirk, just watching him trying his best to be dominant, suddenly, his hand slid underneath your dress, touching slightly your inner thigh. you let out a small sigh, his hand was so warm and it felt so good.

“look at ya.” he mumbled into your ear, moving his hand closer to your pussy. “i’m not doing anything yet and you’re already gasping.”

you don’t say anything, just letting him play his game before yours starts. chris chuckles, amused by your unusual reaction, that motivated him to keep going.

his face close to yours, eyes staring at your lips before shutting them down and brushing both slightly against each other.

you wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his hair and he finally kisses you. not a gentle kiss, an obscene one. tongues fighting and wet sounds, chris can’t help but moan when he feels your nails digging on his back. 

his hand finally touches your pussy covered by the lingerie and you moan biting his bottom lip. he laughs, breaking the contact and looks at you, usually that would be the perfect moment for a cocky comment, but he couldn’t fight the urge to tear apart your black tights and pull the dress to your waist, revealing the orange lingerie.

he’s stunned by a second, moving away from your body to take a better look.

“you fucking bitch.” he says, grabbing your chin and bringing you close to his face agresseviely. “you did this on purpose, didn’t you? to tease me.” he asks while using the other hand to undress you completely. “you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he throws you again on the bed, an expression on his face you’ve never seen before.

you smile, opening your legs in front of him and looking beneath lashes, still not saying anything. too bad for chris, but you knew him more than himself. he loves to talk shit and act all nonchalant, but he hates when people don’t engage or ignore it.

chris frowned, staring between your legs and to drive him even more mad, you placed a hand on your inner thigh, slowly going up until it got to your pussy, your fingers teasing it over the lingerie and moaning and making faces while staring intensely at his eyes.

the boy is speechless, he never got so hard and never felt this urgent need to fuck someone before. the sound of your voice moaning and the way you touched yourself, he was mesmerised by everything.

“chris…” you finally use one of your cards, biting your lips and moaning his name.

he can’t hold himself anymore, chris takes off his shirt and pants, still wearing boxes and walks towards you, the smirk on his face vanished a long time ago, all you could see was pure lust.

“you’re driving me crazy by doing that.” he leans against you, using one knee to support himself over the bed, making sure to rub your wet pussy with it. “that’s a dangerous game, i’m warning you.”

you can’t help but laugh, lifting one leg up to reach his dick and rubbing it slowly, his lips parted into a loud moan, tilting his head to the back.

“it seems to me you’re the one about to beg, chris.” for the first time in minutes, you spoke. he immediately looks at you, not liking your comment one bit but feeling his dick twitch.

“that’s rich coming from someone who just moaned my name like a slut.” he replies, grabbing you leg and dragging you to him, now you are completely laid down on the bed, he bends over to reach your waist and slides your panties till your ankle.

“i’m keeping this.” he smirks and throws the orange lingerie on his nightstand. “alright, i’m gonna eat you out till you cum all over my face.” he gets on his knees, leaning closer to your dripping wet pussy. you could feel his breath hitting the sensitive area and that made you shiver. 

“thought you were gonna make me beg.” you say, watching every single move he makes. chris licks your clit without warning, causing loud moans from you. “fuck.”

he laughs, staring at you between your legs, hands spreading them as much as he can.

“no silly, i’m gonna make you beg me to fuck you.” he groaned, finally eating you out deliciously, his tongue alternating between flexing the muscles while inside you and letting it loose when sucking and licking all of it.

you grab his hair violently, pushing it hard while rolling your hips into his mouth. 

chris was getting harder by second, to the point his dick started to hurt a little. he was moaning and eating you out at the same time, the vibrations causing you an insane amount of pleasure.

“fuck, chris.” you whisper, biting your lips to hide how much you were enjoying it. no guy has ever eaten you out like that before.

so much so that you were about to cum into his mouth, your legs started shaking and the grip on his hair got tighter. he notices your body reactions and smirk, licking and sucking even more faster and intensely.

your moans get louder, you feel contractions through your whole body, soon releasing all the pleasure and cumming into chris mouth.

he licks everything, letting your pussy clean and gets on the bed, crawling on top of you. you smiled at him and he could sense something coming but decided to ignore, all he wanted was to hear the magic words from your pretty mouth.

“i bet i’m the first guy to make you cum that fast, huh?” he says finally being face to face with you, his hard covered dick brushing against your bare pussy and both arms on each side of your head, you were so close that you could feel his heartbeats pressed over your chest, he reach your neck, kissing and sucking on it making soft gasps come out of your lips. 

“beg me.” he murmured in your ear, one hand grabbing your boob and squeezing it hard. the pain felt so good, but you’re not about to lose. “beg me to fuck your little pussy.”

he stares at you, his hand going lower until it reaches your core, sliding one finger inside. your back curves, but you smile at him not showing signs of redemption.

and that’s when you decided it’s time.

with a quick move, you revert the positions, thanks to all the self defence classes you took a long time ago, getting a man off top of you wasn’t hard. 

chris was shocked, his eyes widened and his lips suddenly opened like he was about to say something but couldn’t.

“you’ve failed.” you tell him, smirking. both of his hands were on top of his head, held by yours. with an evil expression, you press your ass against his dick and he melts under you. “it’s my turn now.”

you go for his lips first, and even though his ego was bruised by the fact that you could easily turn the situation to your favour, he’s too horny to care.

both lips were crashing hard while tongues enlaced, the grip of your hand holding his writs got even tighter when he started to move them, the other one was slowly creeping to his abdomen, chris moaned and gasp onto your lips and when you finally reached his dick, removing his boxers to expose his hard cock.

and then something slaps your back, making you look behind.

“holy shit.” you opened your mouth, turning yourself completely to make sure you saw correctly. “you’re fucking huge, chris.”

he laughs, finding your reaction cute and sitting on the bed when you let his hands go.

“think you can take it?” he asks and you stare back at him, smiling.

“only if you beg me first.” you reply, grabbing his dick and teasing the tip of it with your finger, chris closes his eyes and moans a curse word. “c’mon..” you whisper, slowly pumping him and his back curves. “beg me.”

“please…” he murmured, avoiding your gaze.

you smirk, feeling your pussy dripping. he looked so fucking hot doing that. 

since chris was sitting, you easily extended your arm to his hair, pulling it hard to make him stare at you.

“say it again.” you order him spreading all the pre cum over the base of his dick and pulling harder his hair, chris was losing his mind at this point.

“please, let me fuck you.” he asks almost politely with his eyes glued on yours, his cheeks were a slight shade of pink and his red glossy lips parted, letting out shaken breaths. 

you don’t answer, just push his shoulders to the bed making him fall and lifting yourself up to get on top of him again, the gaze between both of you was so intense and sexual.

you positioned his cock on your entry, teasing him a little by rolling your hips and chris bite his lip, you didn’t wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him.

and so you did, sliding his dick slowly inside you with a frown expression and eyes closed.

“does it hurt?” he asks worriedly, grabbing your hips with both hands and fighting the urge to make you jump hard on him.

“yes.” you reply opening your eyes, starting to bounce at a slow pace. “that’s how i like it.”

you feel his dick twitch inside you with your comment, he slaps one of your ass cheeks hard, and you moan loudly.

“you like that, huh?” one more slap, this time harder. you were already bouncing crazy on his dick and both of you were moaning so much that if the loud music wasn’t playing downstairs, everyone would hear. and honestly, none of you cared.

“shit.” chris growns, digging his short nails on your waist. you leaned a little to wrap your finger around his throat and he closes his eyes, gasping. 

“so much for a dom.” you say with a shaky voice from the bouncing, tightening the grip around his neck.

he doesn’t say anything, his mind was fuzzy and raced. all he could do was moan and whimper loudly. 

the twitches got stronger and you could tell he was about to cum.

“gonna cum?” you ask him and he nods desperately, but then you stop moving. he looks at you, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure. “say you’re my little slut, chris.” you incline over, rolling your hips in slow motion and biting his bottom lip. “say it.”

he lets out a huge sigh with the painful feeling of holding an orgasm, his eyes locked into yours, a few hair strands falling over them and sweat dripping from his forehead.

“i’m your little slut.” he whispers, pressing his hands hard on your waist.

you smile at him, finally moving faster. chris feels the lack of oxygen with the combination of an insane amount of pleasure get to his head. he looks at you like he’s about to say something and you notice his hesitation.

“what?” 

“can i please cum on your boobs?” he avoids your gaze again and you feel like squeezing his cheeks, finally you nod. bouncing a couple more times and when he finally starts shaking, you get off of his lap, sitting on your knees.

chris gets up, he tries to grab his own dick, but you slap his hand.

“who the fuck said you could touch yourself?” you smirk, leading a hand wrap around his cock and begins to leisurely pump, chris tilts his head back, coming all over your boobs while you could capture every detail, his husky voice and his dick twitching uncontrollably while lots of cum shower your boobs, you made sure to get it all to your fingers and lick until there’s nothing left there.

slowly, his moans got quieter and he finishes cumming. he looks down at you, smiling and lending you a hand to get up, you smile back and grab his hand getting up.

“i fucking hate you.” he groans, pushing you closer to him by the hand and you laugh.

“that’s what someone who just lost a bet would say.” you reply and give him a little peck, he just rolls his eyes and laughs too.

“i’m doomed.” he slapped himself while you were putting back your dress, making you chuckle.

“don’t worry, my little slut.” you say calmly while putting back your boots. “you’re safe with me.” you say, giving him a wink and grabbing his tank top, throwing it at him. “you should use this more often though.”

chris squinted his eyes and a grin formed on his lips.

“will i fuck you everytime i wear this again?” he asks and you get up, turning to him.

“no, i’m the one who’s gonna fuck you.” 

when you both were properly dressed, chris opens the door so you two could go downstairs, but something was waiting for him right outside.

“i believe you have something to say, chris.” nick and matt were leaned against the wall, arms crossed and lips pressed trying hard not to laugh.

but you can’t control yourself, letting a loud laugh come out of your lips, making them unable to control themselves as well. the only one serious was chris, who rolled his eyes and stared at the three of you, sighing loudly.

“fine…” he groans and turn to you, at least he got the best fuck of his life, so he wasn’t that mad. “i was wrong.”

you, nick and matt burst out laughing again and chris holds in for a while, but soon enough he’s laughing too. 

[findafight]

Steve shows up to work one day with a baby bjorn complete with sleeping baby on his chest and Robin is like Steve....what the fuck?

And Steve says "I would've called you last night but she'd only stop crying when I held her and my parents were fighting, obviously, and I had to figure out how to make her bottle then I fell asleep with her on top of me and I think my dad legitimately forgot about us even though this is his fault, and there's no one to take care of her so I had to bring her. Sorry."

That is a lot and answers very few of Robin's questions.

"who...is she?"

Steve brightens and smiles down at the baby who's tiny baby fist is scrunched up in his work vest. "Oh! My half sister. Her mom works for one of my dad's business partners and brought her to my parents while they were away last week so they came home, mostly to dump her off on a nanny they forgot to hire--hence my baby holder here--and fight. Turns out dad cheating is easier to ignore when there isn't actual proof of it."

"oh. Woah."

"yeah. Anyways, ready to rewind some tapes?"

So they start work Steve logging returns into the computer and cupping the baby whose name I don't know yet's head. Then the little baby wakes up, making little baby noises, and Robin is not one for babies really, but Steve coos and picks her hand off his chest and waves it at Robin.

"see, that's your auntie Robin! Say hiii auntie Robin!"

The baby chews her tongue at Robin and blows a spit bubble.

And how is Robin supposed to not be charmed by that?

"awww," she says, letting the baby grab her finger, "yeah, I'm your auntie Robin. Your big brother's gonna take care of you so good huh? You'll know your way around retail in no time."

Steve giggles.

It is then that The Gremlins decide to show up and Cause Noise. Baby sister starts to cry and Steve takes her to the back to get her to calm down and change her, comes out (ignores the party's questions. Giving them Ultimate Mom Pose with Bonus Effect of Baby) hands her to Robin who is a little nervous but she will not let her new niece (?) Down, and goes back to find and heat up a bottle.

Eddie, who drove the gremlins and was looking for something in his van comes in, sees Robin holding the baby and is like huh? What's this?

And then Steve comes out with a bottle and a baby blanket over his shoulder, reaches for the baby from Robin and tries to get her to latch on the bottle with quiet words and gentle hands and Eddie is not okay he's not fine he's having a melt down because Steve with the kids is one thing but Steve with a Baby is something very different and he should not be expected to keep it together seeing this

Part 2.

Part 3

[pumpkinologists]

Sweet Dreams

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: Spencer wakes up from a dream and tells you all about it

Warnings: Smut, face sitting, hickies, corny fluff

Notes: The fluff parts of this are actually so corny.

Crossposted on AO3

Enjoy!

It was no secret that Spencer talks in his sleep. He said names, locations, unintelligible words, and the occasional fun fact. You learned a lot about him from what he said in his sleep; he would always tell you about his dreams when he would wake up.

The talking never bothered you. Really, it was oddly comforting, lulling you to sleep when he would murmur things and squeeze you tighter to him. 

A whisper of your name was heard throughout the dimly lit and silent room. Being able to tell it was his unconscious mind talking, you opted for a small smile, snuggling into the mattress. It wasn't uncommon for him to say your name. Although the first time he did it, it scared you shitless. 

Just as you were about to fall asleep again, you heard a full, strung-together sentence fall out of the warm body next to you. Turning curiously, you listened for anything else. The small night light that was plugged into the wall by Spencer's nightstand illuminated the sleeping man's face. He looked so perfect. 

"So beautiful." A murmur left his parted lips, and his eyebrows seemed to quirk up slightly. He spoke your name: "Yes, of course." He seemed to be having a conversation with someone in his dream. 

Spencer's body moved, his hands reaching towards you. Your name again. His hand fell on your waist, and a sigh of relief was drawn from him. He weakly tried to pull your body towards him, humming when he was successful. His face pressed into your chest, and his arms hugged you tightly against him.

Unheard words were said lowly into your skin; he seemed to be having a very good dream. Spencer may not seem like it, but he really did enjoy close physical contact, as long as he was comfortable with the person he was engaging in it with. When you first met, he was scared to even hold your hand; now he tries to touch you in any way he can when you're both alone.

Smiling fondly at the memory, you feel Spencer stir against you. "Mm," he whispered your name, his voice awake. You moved a hand up to stroke his hair, reminding him you were there. 

He still held onto you; you were almost sure he was pouting to himself about waking up. "I won't be able to fall asleep again," he whined into your neck. You chuckled and scratched his scalp lightly. 

"Tell me about your dream." Slowly, you moved your hand from his hair down to his back, rubbing it lightly. You could feel Spencer blush as he nuzzled into you. "It's a little embarrassing," he said, but that didn't stop him from picking up his head and recalling what he had imagined. 

"I was in a field," he paused pensively, "A field full of wildflowers; there were mountains in the distance." He started to fidget with the fabric of your shirt.

"It was really peaceful." He smiled softly and said, "I especially liked the part where you showed up." His fingers still fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "You looked so beautiful." A flush came over you at his words. "Did I?" He nodded, a bashful half-smile falling on his lips.

"You’re always beautiful." He was soft with his words; he made eye contact with you, your noses touching. "The most gorgeous human being I’ve ever had the blessing to lay my eyes on."

You're full-on blushing now, the heat carrying throughout your face. He swallowed and opened his mouth to finish his vision. "You were in a white dress. There was a soft breeze." His hand moved to your hip and squeezed gently. 

"You looked like an angel. I swear I saw a halo," he said, laughing softly at the thought. "I was running towards you, and just as we were about to touch, I woke up." You could see the frown on his lips even in the dim light. "Well, I’m holding you right now. Is that not good enough?" you teased, kissing the tip of his nose. 

He scrunched his nose and pinched the skin underneath your shirt. You gasped and pouted, "Hey!" Spencer only chuckled and stroked the skin he had pinched with his thumb. "I guess the real thing is better." He laughed, rolling his eyes. You frowned and lightly smacked his back.

"Seriously," he was genuine now, his voice gentle. "The real thing really is better." His lips maneuvered over to yours, kissing you softly. His hand that was on your hip moved up to hold your cheek, deepening the kiss. It was still gentle, your lips moving together perfectly.

Spencer caressed your cheek and creased his eyebrows. A noise leaving his throat. That noise set something off in you. You pushed him onto his back, not forcefully, but just enough so that he’d get the memo to move himself. You straddled his lap, not breaking the kiss.

Heavy breaths left both of your noses lingering together. You ran your hands down his chest; he still gripped the sides of your face. The noises still came from him. You broke the kiss, panting for breath. Spencer groaned as you ran your hands down his body, stopping at his lower stomach. 

You moved to give his lips a small peck before going to his neck. As you set your lips to kiss gently just behind Spencer’s earlobe, you earned a small whine from the man below you. He squirmed slightly as you continued to plant kisses on his neck. 

Felling Spencer’s growing erection against your ass, you grinned into the kisses you trailed down to his chest. Knowing his chest was sensitive, you tenderly sucked and licked his skin. You created red marks that trailed over his chest, knowing that they would soon turn purple.

Spencer was gripping your hips tightly. His face was scrunched up in pleasure, while whines and whimpers fell melodically from his soft lips. He whined your name as you went lower, his hips writhing underneath you, itching to get some sort of friction.

Now working spots into his stomach, you gripped onto his waist, watching his body twist. A particularly loud whine came from Spencer when you sucked into a sensitive spot right under his ribs.

"Shh, I know. I know," you crooned up at him, moving to take one of the hands that had fallen from your hip. He let out a soft plea, squeezing your hand and thrusting his hips upward.

His v-line came next. His prominent pelvic bone and veins are the most sensitive. You purposely avoided those placed first. Kissing around them. Spencer’s was desperate; the hand that held yours was squeezing so tightly that you felt like he’d crush your bones. 

Giving him some of the satisfaction he craved, you licked the veins that climbed his pelvic area. He gasped, his eyes flying open at the sensation. "So good." Spencer groaned and turned in your grip. You continued to lap at his skin until you reached the waist pant of his purple boxer briefs.   

Just as the hand that still rested on his waist moved to pull down the soft cotton that rested low on his hips, he stopped you. You were confused, removing your mouth from his skin. "Spencer?" you questioned, and he let his panting breath slow down before he spoke.

"Sit on my face. Please." 

It was the most desperate thing you had heard him say. Your mouth was agape, and your motions paused. "I— Spencer?" He shook his head, looked deeply into your eyes, and said, "Please. Please, I need to taste you." 

You were still taken aback by his sudden request, but you nodded slowly. Moving your hands from his body, you moved off him, taking off your panties and throwing them onto the ground. 

Spencer watched the way the soft yellow light illuminated your thighs and lower body. He groaned, his cock somehow growing impossibly harder. "God, you’re so perfect." He rasped, his head falling against the pillow. 

You smiled and moved to straddle him just below his face. "Ready?" you asked softly, reaching down and scratching his scalp. He nodded vigorously. His hands came up to grip your hips as you lowered yourself down onto his mouth. 

Spencer wasted no time as he started to lap at your folds, the sensation causing you to lose your balance. You placed your hands against the headboard and let out a squeak of surprise when he languidly licked at you.

His hands held your squirming hips in place, completely contradicting the way his own pelvis twisted against nothing. The noises that he made sent vibrations straight through your core. You were making noises yourself, with moans and whimpers filling the room. 

The grip you had on the head board intensified, as did the volume of your moans, when Spencer thrust his tongue into your dripping core. The wetness from your pussy was spread all over Spencer’s face. From his nose to his chin, he was covered.

A hand trailed up from your hip to underneath your shirt, gripping your breast. The feeling of his hand fondling you made an impossible amount of wetness gush from your core.

Your hips moved back and forth rhythmically against his face. Your clit hitting his nose perfectly with every movement. He seemed to be enjoying himself; his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he tasted you. His breaths were short, and he was panting. Hips still pushing up into the air. 

Spencer was in heaven, and you were his own personal angel. 

As your arousal continued to grow tenfold, you felt the impending sensation of your orgasm. Your hips sped up, your moans following close by. Spencer must have noticed the way your pussy clenched around his tongue and your moans became more frequent because he started to help you rock your hips back and forth.

He whined into you. His hand that was under your shirt returned to your hip, helping the other hand push you against him. He was close too; the thought of you making a mess on his face was enough for him to be on the brink of coming undone. 

Suddenly, Spencer stopped moving your hips. His mouth just in the right position to suck harshly on your clit. You had no time to process what was going on before you felt the warmth overwhelm you. As you came, you clenched around nothing, your wetness gushing all over Spencer’s face. 

"Oh my god," you panted, sliding off of Spencer’s face and flopping unceremoniously beside him on the bed. "You’re so good," you gulped, and turned to see the man beside you panting, his face glistening with your arousal.

Your eyes trailed down his body; there was a dark spot on his boxers, signifying that he came too. "Spencer?" You called out his name, making sure he still had cognitive function. He hummed and looked over at you, his eyelids heavy and his cheeks glowing bright red. 

"Did you cum just from that?" you whispered in surprise. He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "How could I not?" He turned over and held your hand. His eyes scanned your face before he took it into his hands, kissing you gently. 

When he pulled back, his lips lifted into a loving smile. "You’re right. The real thing really is better."

[cookiewrites]

daddy'll take care of you

wc: 1.6k

cw: softdom!chan x afab sub!reader, somnophilia, prior consent given/established relationship, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), daddy kink, praise, dirty talk, tiny bit of degredation, reader is called a cocksleeve, pet names for reader (princess, little one, baby girl, love), breeding kink, creampie, blindfolding, little bit of aftercare, tiny bit of size kink? kind of?, subspace

sleepy sex with chan has always been your favourite, but not that morning just barely light needy 'don't get out of bed yet' sex - but the 'i came home and you're already asleep and i'm sorry but i need you' sex. the 'i've had the worst day ever and i'm too tired of everything but please do something' sex. the 'we fell asleep still connected and i can't help it' sex.

boundaries had been clearly discussed when the two of you started having sex, but it was not soon after that you found yourself in the position of having that needy half-asleep sex. you stepped through the door to your apartment, barely closing the door before dropping your bag, coat, and shoes. cleaning up in the bathroom was exhausting and slow, but somehow you did it, making your way to the bedroom you and chan shared.

you had only just tucked yourself in when he followed, still energised from a good studio session. 'how's my baby doing then?' he asks, stripping himself, slowly exposing more and more skin - you found yourself wishing you had the energy to do something about it. instead, using the energy you did have to give him a run down on your day.

your voice drifting off as he gets closer to you, stopping entirely as his hand comes up to hold your face; his skin warm against yours. soon lips are on yours but you barely have the energy to respond to them, even though they are plush and perfect and attached to your boyfriend.

'oh is my baby tired?' he asks, stroking your hair as one hand around your waist pulls you closer to him. his smile is loving and soft, patient as you nod and try to apologise. 'there's no need to say sorry princess, let's get you some sleep'.

you cut that idea off with a whine, burying your head into his neck, letting yourself be surrounded by his scent, your hands grabbing at whatever parts of him they're near.

'oh?' you nod and whine again, trying to pull him closer again.

'oh. my love is needy, i get it baby, do you want daddy to help you get some rest?' you nod, whispering a please as he guides you onto your back - hands gently touching and caressing you, taking their time to hold and adore you.

'daddy'll just be a sec, little one, okay?' you go to respond but by the time you find the response through the fog in your brain he's back in bed with you, holding something.

'lift your head up for me, princess.'. your body follows before you even think to, and a blindfold is neatly tied around your eyes. a soft kiss on your lips follows. the darkness only adds to how heavy every part of your body feels, and heightens the way his fingers trace their way down your arms, and back up under the t-shirt you've slipped on.

'pretty little baby, so well behaved for me' he muses as he lifts the top high enough to have access to your chest. leaning down to plant kisses across the new found skin, the only warning you have being the brush of his hair as it falls against you.

there's kisses and small bites and that sinful tongue tracing a line down from the center of your chest to above your underwear. he lets his teeth find the band of the panties you'd left on in your rush to sleep before pulling back and scolding himself for not being gentle.

'beautiful, such a good girl for me' he praises, lips against your stomach. he reaches one hand up to your face, and as you feel them brush against your lower lip, you immediately try to follow them. he laughs to himself before helping you guide his thumb into your mouth; wet warmth surrounding it. he feels himself get harder. 'so good, daddy'll help i promise little one.'

with his other hand he begins to pull your underwear off, your hips raising slightly to help, but you're clearly distracted by the weight on your tongue. sucking around it, losing yourself in how good it feels to be surrounded by him; the love of it, the warmth, the care.

'god you're so fucking pliable baby' he comments, as you realise your legs are being spread apart, just enough for a somehow now naked chan to rest himself between. the heat of his thighs making you feel warm all over, you whine, mouth opening a moment. your whine just gets louder as he takes his soaked thumb away from you. you try to follow it.

'you know i'd call you pathetic if you weren't so cute babygirl?' he whispers in your ear. he's somehow everywhere and it's making your foggy brain dizzy. that disorientation is not helped by the thumb that was once in your mouth in now finding it's own lazy pace on your clit, rubbing these patient patterns. well it felt patient until he moved it down slightly to test exactly how much prep you'll need to take what you actually want.

'p-please da-daddy'

'god you're... i should prep you baby'

chan was always so cautious with you, even at his roughest he wanted you stretched and ready before even attempting to fit himself inside you. it was that love and care that made you feel safe, safe enough to feel so out of it and still want to be so full of him.

'it's o-okay, you can m-make it fit daddy, please'

'you can take it baby? can you?' he laughs, clearly not expecting an answer as you feel the feeling of his fingers replaced by something much harder. 'it's a good job you're making a pretty puddle on our sheets'

you didn't think he could ever feel bigger than he already is but when you feel so small and delicate, you weren't even sure it would fit. yet he finds a way, his tip slowly slipping into you. the stretch delicious and dizzying; marred only by the words whispered in your ear;

'god, you're made for me little one'

'it's okay, daddy will take such good care of you'

'so tight around me, you're just so little, princess'

you don't notice you're moaning until you hear how much louder you get as his hips meet yours. your knee in one of his hands, lifting the near dead weight just so he can nestle himself deeper in you. his other arm, fist clenched, is holding is weight next to your head. you can feel the warmth radiate of his bicep - you know the way it bulges and the veins and you wish you could see it now but-

'letting me do whatever i want baby, so good to me'

his thrusts are such delicious rolls of his hips, no hard snaps, no sudden empty or full feelings - just this constant massage of your walls and beautiful presses of his head against the squishy part inside you.

'pretty little thing for me to use, such a good cocksleeve'

every new praise is said somewhere new. some so close to your ear you're not sure if it's in your head; your sleep filled brain replaying all the dirty things chan has said to you. some are with lips pressed to new skin, as if he's trying to consume you whole.

'daddy'll make your bad day go away, i know you're happiest all full.'.

'do you feel that baby? feel how deep i am? just relax love'

every new move is a surprise, you don't have enough energy to try and picture what he plans to do and that's why this works so well. you've had enough sense to hook the leg he previously held over his hip; you think he put it there.

'my little play thing, so perfect for me'

the delicate touches that appear on your clit surprise you, they make you notice the knot in your stomach.

'you're so easy to use baby, just made for me, so good, good girl'

the pinches on your nipple make you cry out, how did his hand get there? how didn't you notice.

'you're so good to me, letting me have you like this, letting daddy take care of his needy little girl'

the sudden bite at your neck, the sucking you know will bruise bring you so close and you can't even really warn him. it's so dark and warm and you feel so safe and good and-

'oh baby, cumming so quickly for me, fuck'

'there you are, aw baby, making such a mess'

'you feel so good cumming around me, babygirl, daddy loves you'

'd-daddy loves me?'

'y-yes he does, and you love daddy, so it's okay if he uses you a little longer, right?'

you nod, or at least you think you do, as you feel chan speed up. his thrusts getting a little harsher as he chases his own high.

'daddy's gonna b-breed his perfect little girl, yeah?'

'i know how much you love when daddy fills you up like that, stay still in and take it, yeah?'

'shhh it's okay d-daddy's close baby'

all his praise turns to groans as he fills you up, placing kisses over your neck and cheek, thanking you over and over again for it all. you don't remember much after that, some familiar feelings of his hands helping clean you up, him pulling you into him as you spoon. him telling you over and over just how good you've been.

the mornings after nights like this are some of your favourites. they're the kind of mornings that make you slip up and call chan your husband; he smiles so big every time. it's all breakfast in bed, not letting you walk anywhere, giving you his card so you can buy yourself those shoes you've been looking at, so many kisses your lips are sore. it's love.