#like what if my attempts actually worked man what if i never woke up

[saesins]

dude I am invincible I am immortal atp

[gio-cosmo]

I’m taking some community college courses soon and istg if someone doesn’t see the fandom related stickers on my laptop and immediately become my lifelong bff I’m dropping all classes idgaf

[bitchesuntitled]

Wrong Delivery

Summary: Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI go on get! No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv(don't do that, make smart choices), cream pie, Joel being a dork.

A/N: First time I've ever actually finished a Joel story I started working on! Many thanks to @strang3lov3 for the encouragement and taking a look at this, @jay-zzle as always for giving me ideas and making moodboards for me because I hate doing them myself! ❤️❤️❤️

🌹This is for @morallyinept’s flora & fauna challenge! 🌹

Divider provided by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist||AO3 Link

As you rush into the building, trying to avoid the construction team surrounding the place, a timid smile crosses your face when you spot Joel, the man responsible for why you’re running late this morning. Instead of getting ready for work like you were supposed to, Joel Miller decided he wanted to spend his morning coaxing another orgasm out of you, as if the three last night weren’t enough. It’s been a couple of months of this. 

It had never been your intention to start sleeping with the hot contractor who had been doing construction at your place of work, you both just happened to be at the same bar one night. One thing led to another and now it’s been this, whatever this is.

“Mornin’ guys,” you say passing the crew, each giving their own sort of greeting back, be it a grunt of acknowledgment or repeating the greeting.

“Mornin’ ma’am,” Joel says with a cheeky smile, “Runnin’ a little late?”

“Yeah, woke up late,” you shrugged, feeling your face heat up.

“There you are!” Becky shouts, making her way towards you, “Angie is up my ass right now about where you are with those reports you said you’d get done yesterday.”

“On it,” you sigh, “Nice talking to you Joel.”

“Oh!” Becky said with a smile, grabbing his bicep, “Hi Joel! You guys sure have been working hard on all of this.”

You try to keep your eyes from rolling at Becky’s consistent attempt at flirting with Joel. She has definitely tried her hardest to get his attention, made cookies “for the crew” but only handed some of them to Joel, tries to talk to him every chance she can, wearing lower cut tops so her cleavage is on full display, batting eyelashes and laughing at any dumb thing he says. It’s starting to get on your nerves, if you’re being honest. Making your way to your desk you open the drawer, shoving your purse inside before closing it and turning on your computer. You open the teams app, sending Angie a quick message to let her know you’ll put the file with the reports in the folder outside her door, grabbing the file and making your way to her office.

Becky is still talking Joel’s ear off and you have to stifle your laugh, watching his eyebrows scrunch together and his polite nod before excusing himself. She catches you as you're on your way back to your cubicle to start the work day.

“That Joel Miller is a man,” Becky sighs, walking beside you, “The things I would let him do to me.”

“Oh jeez,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk.

“I wonder what his dick is like,” she continues, “I bet it’s big.”

You turn to your computer hoping she can’t see the look on your face because then the jig would be up.

“Uhm,” you say, clearing your throat, “You better be careful. Don’t wanna get turned into HR.”

—

“Hello,” a frazzled delivery guy announces himself at the entrance to your cubicle. “I have a delivery for you, miss.”

“For me?!” Becky asks excitedly, seeing the bouquet of flowers. The delivery guy nodded, handing her the flowers. “Who are they from?!”

“Uh… Joel Miller?” The guy says, looking at his sheet. Your jaw drops upon hearing his words. Why on earth would Joel send Becky flowers?

“Oh my god!” Becky squeals with delight, grabbing the card, “Aw! Look! It says darlin’ on the envelope!”

Becky opens the card, reading it aloud:

“Figured a pretty lady like you should have some flowers to look at. Been havin’ the time of my life gettin’ to know ya and would love to take you out. He signed it off with a heart and J. Miller! How sweet is that?!”

Beside yourself on handling this, the only thing you could think of was finding the man himself. If this entire thing between you two was just for fun so be it, but you needed answers.

“Real sweet,” you mutter standing up, “I’m…  uh… I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Becky hums dreamily, staring at the flowers on her desk.

You make your way to the front of the building, spotting Gus, one of the construction guys.

“Can you tell Joel I need to talk to him?”

“Sorry ma’am, he had to leave earlier, something about Tommy.” Gus shrugs. 

“Uhm… okay.” You nod, deciding to make your way to the breakroom, sitting at one of the tables trying to collect your thoughts. Maybe it’s for the best that he left. That way the entire building wouldn’t see you blow up. Are you even still supposed to see each other tonight? That had been the plan when he left this morning. What the actual fuck, you think to yourself, give annoying ass Becky flowers to ask her out, and then fuck you? That two-timing son of a bitch!

“So fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

—

You make it through the workday, as best as you can, trying not to think of Joel and how mad you are all while Becky continues to talk about him all day. What should she wear, wondering where he’d take her, what they would do, should she sleep with him on the first date. Hopefully, the Excedrin will kick in soon to help with the teeth grinding headache you’ve had all day. Walking to your car Becky’s shrill voice rings out wishing you a good evening.

“Yeah, you too,” you grumble, pulling your car door open and throwing your purse inside. You’re still so mad, fuming, seeing red as you drive towards your place. Once getting home, you quickly change into comfy clothes, and see you have a text from Joel.

JMiller: Can’t wait to see you beautiful ;) Leavin’ Tommy’s

You scowl looking at the text. How do you even respond to that? Petty, that’s how.

You: K.

You see the text bubbles pop up, disappear then pop up again before his face shows on your screen with an incoming call.

“Hello,” you snap.

“Hey,” Joel says hesitatingly, “Bad day at work?”

“Well, Becky got some lovely flowers delivered at work.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” you say with a harsh pop at the end.

“And?” Joel asks, “Is that it?”

“Delivery guy and card said they were from you.”

“Fuck me,” Joel groans “Those were not for goddamn Becky!”

“Sure about that?”

“I got them for you.” Joel argues.

“Yeah, okay.” You huff into the receiver, rolling your eyes. “Look, I get it. It’s fine if you didn’t want this going anywhere but you could’ve been honest with me about it.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groans, “I do want this going somewhere! Like I said, the flowers were for you!”

“Sure,” you say, shaking your head, “Just be honest, Joel. This has just been fun, that’s it. You’re getting your dick wet, stringing me al—“

“God damn it! I am telling the truth!” Joel growls, cutting you off. “I even have proof!”

“What proof?!” You spit back, “The proof of the flowers you sent Becky? Yeah, I saw them, and the card too. Sweet touch signing it off with a heart and then your name.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door. You cock your head to the side, hearing the knock sound through the phone as well. Of fucking course, Tommy’s is a five minute drive to your place, making your way to the door you swing it open to see Joel standing there. His nostrils flared, phone held up to his ear, dropping it and angrily stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Just give me five minutes, I swear, they were meant for you and I have fuckin’ proof,” Joel says, holding up a piece of paper.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You groan, smacking your phone onto the entry table.  “Why are you here?”

“I was on my way home from Tommy’s. Figure I’d come here first,” Joel says, holding the paper out to you, “Go on, look at it.”

You grab it, glancing it over. Farrah’s Flowers printed at the top, with your name listed as the order’s recipient, eyes bulging out of your head as you look at him.

“Told you.”

“Wait, then how the fuck did they get to Becky then?”

“Somebody fucked up, that’s all I know but that is my copy of the receipt for buyin’ them in the first place, and that is your name on it,” Joel smirks in triumph, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

Your shoulders relax as you open the door wider, motioning your head for him to come in. He gives a subtle nod, making his way into your home, you slump against the door once it’s closed.

“Joel,” you start, “What the fuck are we?”

He cages you against the door, pushing his lower half into you. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck, looking at those dark chocolate eyes.

“Well,” Joel says, kissing your cheek, “I want you,” placing a soft kiss against your lips, “More than just for sex,” he whispers, against your lips breathing in each other's air causing you to feel a dizzying arousal. Lips collide with him in a hungry kiss, tongues rolling against one another, gasping when his hands creep down to hook around your thighs lifting you, grabbing onto your ass before pulling you away from the door and carrying you to your bedroom.

Joel lays you down on your bed hovering over you, never breaking away from your lips, licking into your mouth with desperation like this might be his last chance. Arousal begins pool in your underwear. Hands gliding down his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him, lifting the bottom of his shirt until he finally lifts to fling it off.

“Don’t want anyone else,” Joel husks, lightly biting your neck, causing you to moan at the sensation of his teeth against your skin, “Just you.”

“Joel,” you whimper as his hand travels down the length of your shirt, pushing it up to expose your tits, ducking his head down. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before switching to give the other equal attention, kissing a trail down the soft flesh of your stomach until he reaches the top of your leggings.

“Can I?” He asks, looking at you, fingers hooking into your waistband. You give a firm nod and he pulls them off along with your underwear. He sighs once they are off, using his shoulders to spread your legs further apart, “So fucking pretty,” he hums, nipping and kissing along your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your center.

You can feel his breath against your folds, trembling with anticipation for his tongue and lips to make contact, letting out a soft moan Joel begins lapping at your folds, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth. Tongue massaging circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair and lightly tugging.

Joel’s hum reverberated into your core. His mouth opened and he began to fuck you with his tongue while firmly holding your gaze. You’re back arched at the sensation, letting out a gasp. You roll your hips against his face, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. He grunts, moving his thumbs to spread your lips, licking a stripe up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. Your legs begin to shake at the sensation.

“Oh my god, Joel!” You whine, arching your back, feeling the band tightening within your core, begging for release. Joel sinks two of his thick fingers into you causing you to cry out, moving them to massage that sweet spot against your walls, “Yes! Oh my god, fuck!” You could feel the smug smirk on his face, knowing you’re about to come.

“Come on,” he coos, firmly licking your bundle of nerves “Let me have it baby.”

You cry his name out over and over as you feel the waves of pleasure crashing through you. He continues lapping at your folds, wanting to make sure he gets every last drop before you push his head away. He crawls up the length of your body, the denim of his jeans scratching against your skin.

“Good?” He asks, you nod giggling and he smirks, grabbing the nape of his neck you pull him closer to your face, looking into your eyes he whispers a hi. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, surging forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into your mouth, grinding his bulge against your center, the rough denim providing friction against your core. His hand moves to his belt, swiftly unhooking it and unbuttoning his jeans. Hands sliding down to help him push the denim off his hips, boxers following suit. You grip his hard length, stroking it from tip to base. Palm spreading the precome over his long thick length. Joel lets out a soft moan at the touch.

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, rubbing his cock against your slick heat. “Please.”

He bats your hand away, grabbing his cock to tease your folds more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. You let out a moan when his tip catches against your entrance. Only for him to slide back up to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against you.

“Joel,” you begged, titling your pelvis, “Please, please fuck me.”

Joel smirks, sliding his cock back down to your entrance, feeding you his bulbous head. You writhe, feeling the stretch. He sinks into you slowly, filling you up until his tip kisses your cervix. Fingers gripping his back, each of you letting out a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel murmurs into your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse point, letting you adjust to his size, “Best pussy ever,” placing gentle kisses along your jaw.

“Joel, move,” you plead, hitching your legs up on his waist, “Need you to move.”

He pulls out slowly before snapping his length into you again, letting out a shaky breath at the harshness of his thrust. Your grip on his back tightens, sinking your nails into his skin. He lets out a hiss as he rocks his hips into you, trying to find that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, “Don’t want anyone else, darlin’.”

Breathy moans shared between kisses, sweat slicked skin gliding against each other. He pushes your thighs back further into a mating press, finding that sweet spot inside your walls.

“Oh my god,” you whine, back beginning to arch, “Right there!”

His cock massages that spot with every stroke, causing your muscles to tighten. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening, walls beginning to flutter around his shaft as he drills into that spot over and over.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel growls, feeling the heat of his skin slapping against yours, “I need you to come, baby. Ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You moan wantonly as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. Joel holding out to make sure you come first. The coil in your belly finally snaps, sending you over the edge, white hot electricity flowing through every limb. He thrusts into you harshly half a dozen more times before his hips stutter.

“Only you, darlin’, only want you,” he grunts, as he empties himself inside you, painting your walls with his sticky release, “only want you.”

Joel collapses, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head, nuzzling his nose against yours, placing soft kisses against your lips.

“Only want you,” he sighs.

—

You spent the next hour, in each other's arms, talking, snuggling and kissing.

“I can’t believe you would think I’d want Becky,” Joel booms with laughter, eyes crinkling around the edges. You smirk playfully, slapping his arm.

“Look,” you giggle, “I didn’t know if her flirting finally wore you down!”

“Hi Joel!” He says in an exaggerated high pitch, batting his eyelashes, “My, you sure have been working hard!” he adds with a girly giggle, lifting his pecs to create some sort of cleavage.

“Oh shut up!”

“Did you see the flowers though? Like actually look at ‘em?”

“Not really,” you sigh, playing with a loose thread on your blanket.

“Purple tulips for new beginnings and love,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your cheek, “Jasmine for devotion,” he continues, kissing your other cheek, “and pink roses for appreciation,” he smiles before kissing the tip of your nose.

“Really?”

“Yep, the florist helped me pick them out,” Joel says, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss, “Told ya they were for you.”

[simpjaes]

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry. 

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― DUB CON.  use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish,  reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering? 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something. 

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. 

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness. 

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you  hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently. 

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too. 

 Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week. 

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs. 

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce. 

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?” 

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone. 

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more. 

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off. 

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace. 

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you? 

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?” 

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. 

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end. 

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty. 

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut. 

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.” 

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father. 

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. 

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

 You really seem to be enjoying this. 

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are. 

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you. 

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat. 

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to. 

No one would even know. 

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. 

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect. 

“I knew it.” You giggle,  bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. 

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.” 

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.  At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down. 

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy. 

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?” 

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards. 

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not. 

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you. 

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now. 

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now. 

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth. 

Oh. Oh. 

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of. 

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying. 

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.” 

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it. 

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now. 

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him. 

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor. 

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh. 

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. 

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration. 

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

 You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it. 

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.” 

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it. 

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat. 

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well. 

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged. 

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath. 

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties. 

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly. 

You’ve gotten wetter. 

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.” 

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous. 

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better. 

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.  

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman. 

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it. 

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything? 

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat? 

No. 

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it. 

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand. 

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.” 

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press. 

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you. 

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk. 

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily. 

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before. 

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly. 

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't. 

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. 

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk. 

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

 You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head. 

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.” 

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.” 

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it. 

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty. 

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” 

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.” 

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit. 

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now. 

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

 He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself. 

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?” 

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.  

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you. 

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

 But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. 

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him. 

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts. 

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good. 

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him. 

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe. 

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence. 

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. 

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it. 

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear. 

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. 

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father. 

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before. 

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into. 

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand. 

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?” 

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness. 

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.  

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed. 

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?” 

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

[flowercrowngods]

Steve startles awake, disoriented and filled with a slight bout of panic — as always when he takes a nap that turns into five hours of deep sleep and catapults him right into the next dimension for a while there.

Heart racing, he blinks his dark bedroom into existence, and it takes him a while to realise where he is and what woke him up.

And then the landline phone on his nightstand rings again, and he exhales deeply before reaching for it with clumsy, sluggish movements.

“‘Ello?”

“Steve,” comes Eddie’s sing-song voice from the other end, washing over Steve in a soothing way that leaves him falling back into the pillows. He clutches the phone to his ear as he closes his eyes, the smile already forming at how happy Eddie sounds. He rarely sings Steve’s name like that. He should do it more often.

“Hi there.” His voice sounds like shit. Like he just took a — Jesus Christ, has it really been four hours? Well. He sounds exactly like someone who took a four-hour nap after a shit day at work would sound like.

There’s fumbling on the other end, but it stops suddenly. “Did I wake you? Shit man, I thought it was past nap time.”

“I don’t have nap time,” Steve grumbles, actually pouting at Eddie’s words and realising only a second too late how ridiculous he sounds.

“Sure, man, whatever you say. We all know you’re actually just a life-sized toddler.”

Steve sputters, sitting up against his headboard as he gradually wakes up. “Hey! Also, I don’t think you actually understand what life-sized means.”

“Yes, I do.”

Steve shakes his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man. “What exactly do you think a non-life-sized toddler looks like, Eduardissimo?”

“Like Dustin.”

The answer is so quick and deadpan, Steve cannot contain the laugh that bursts out of him, waking him up quicker and gentler than anything else in the world could have, and he revels in the sound of Eddie joining him. He must look so smug right now, and so damn proud of himself. Steve wants to see him. Wants to kiss that smile right from his lips and replace it with something a lot more genuine.

“You’re an asshole,” he says instead, pulling his blanket further around him as he lifts his knees to sit more comfortably.

Eddie hums, still teasing somehow with just that noise, and Steve just can’t stop smiling. “You like me so much, Harrington.”

“Hmm,” he mirrors Eddie’s hum, but even he can hear the smile on his face. “Jury’s still out on that one, actually.”

“Any tendencies yet on the verdict?”

“Nope, they can’t decide.”

Eddie snorts at that, and Steve has no idea how that can sound so sweet. But it does. He buries his smile in his knees for a bit, the blanket hot around his burning cheeks. He’s hopeless.

“Well, let me know as soon as they do, yeah?”

“Will do,” he laughs, ruining all his attempts to sound solemn. “So what’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Oh!” And suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped and Eddie doesn’t sound teasing and smug anymore, but instead just fucking giddy! “I have a bed now!”

Steve smiles at it. At that voice, that tone, that infectious emotion. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” More fumbling on the other end, and Steve can only imagine that Eddie is rolling around in his newly acquired bed.

Who’s the life-sized toddler now, hm?

“No more sleeping on the floor for this Munson boy, nuh-uh, my good sir! We are in possession of a bed now. A wooden bed, no fancy headboard or anything, just…”

“Just a bed,” Steve says, feeling like he’s about to burst into a million little particles of fondness and affection and the never-ending need to kiss Eddie. To hold him. To touch him in any way he can. “That’s great, Edsie.”

“It is, Stevesie.”

“Man, I hate you so much,” Steve squints at the ceiling and laughs, actually kicking his feet, the minute breeze providing a little relief for the heat in his face.

And Eddie has no business to sound so smug when he says, “Yeah, you do.”

A pause then, and it feels loaded even through the phone. Steve clutches it closer to his face, hoping stupidly that Eddie can feel it.

“You should come hate me in my new bed.”

Steve’s breath hitches, and his brain shuts off for a hot second there. Before he can overthink this, he decides to just… play along. And listen to what his heart has been telling him for months now.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, breathless still, but his whole body tingles with just these two words. With the possibility they bring. The offer that they are. The question. The everything that’s stored in them.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds just as breathless. “I mean, if— If you want to?”

“I do.” Steve swallows. “Right, uh— Right now?”

“Whenever.” And it sounds more like an As soon as possible.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, scrambling out of bed as quickly as possible, pulling off his shirt with the phone still pressed to his ear, letting out an embarrassing noise as it gets tangled in a mess of cord and fabric. He scrambles to free it, almost dropping it in the process. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“To come look at my new bed?”

“Sure.”

On the other end, Eddie laughs again, but he still sounds just as breathless as Steve does. Just as excited. As fragile. Just as many fucking things.

“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, though Steve can still hear the smile. “I’ll see you then.”

And then he hangs up before either of them can get lost in their own heads about this sudden certainty of change. Steve is grateful for the steady noise of the dial tone reminding him that this is happening. But that nothing has to happen.

It’s a nice bed, he finds hours later, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair who’s cuddling him half asleep. It’s the best fucking bed he’s ever seen, if only because it led to this.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 (lmk if you want on or off)

[shunsuiken]

HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK

pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader

genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)

wc. 400-800 for each character

an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg

kaeya alberich

after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.

but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.

he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.

your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.

you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).

kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”

you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.

kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.

“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.

kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.

“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.

diluc ragnvindr

he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.

“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”

after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.

“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.

they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.

you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.

“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-

“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.

“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.

you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).

diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”

your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.

(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)

diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.

zhongli

zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.

the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.

zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”

your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you. 

“oh—!”

zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.

looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.

“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—” 

“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.

you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”

“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.

“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.

this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.

for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.

childe

he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.

childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.

childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.

childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.

scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ‘borrow your attention’ for a moment.

you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).

“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.

childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.

“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.

“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.

you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.

childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”

kamisato ayato

by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.

it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.

“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.

ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.

“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.

he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.” 

“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.

you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.

ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!

the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…

“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.

“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.

your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.

thoma

thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.

when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.

there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.

his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.

“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.

“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.

“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.

the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).

you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.

“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.

after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.

above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.

as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”

tighnari

a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).

“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.

a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.

“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”

tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.

you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.

a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”

“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out! 

he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?

he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.

“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”

“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”

“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”

tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.

he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.

it appears that all his worries were meaningless.

kaveh

the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.

“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!

“went to… birthday party… drinks…”

that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?

kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.” 

when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.

“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.

after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.

“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.

“you don’t understand.”

“what don’t i understand?”

what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!

kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”

“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!

“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”

“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.

why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.

you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.

“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap. 

“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”

kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!

“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.

his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.

the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…

“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.

a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.

he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”

wanderer

wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.

you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.

that’s alright. wanderer can wait.

the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.

the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.

he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.

“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.

“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.

you’re fucking drunk.

“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.

“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.

“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”

talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”

wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.

you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.

“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.

[vampiric-hunger]

𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕖

pair: Ascended!Astarion x female!reader

tags: no y/n is used, rating - E, smut, improper use of charm spell (sorta), vampiric charming, dub-con I guess?, PiV, fingering, blood drinking, creampie, breeding kink, waiter there's a tiny bit of plot in my porn

summary: only a stupid rogue would try to rob a suspected Vampire Lord but here you are, doing exactly that. well, right until you get caught with your greedy fingers picking a lock. surprisingly enough, Lord Astarion is not mad when he finds a thief in his chambers. how (un)fortunate you are that he thinks you're beautiful. and his punishment might yet become a reward instead.

word count: 4,257

a/n: Astarion breeding kink this, breeding kink that, well, here i am trying my own hand at it for the very first time ever. i don't know how good it is but i had fun writing it! this one shot started as something else, but well, here we are, being horny. enjoy! <3

p.s. in regards of "improper use of charm spell" tag - Astarion is using his vampiric charm on reader, she is completely under his control for most of the fic and thus i marked this as dubcon but she only truly consents towards the end of it. so if you're not into this type of thing click out.

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You’re stupid, oh yes you are.

You suspected so even before you broke into the palace.

Like last night, when at the Blushing Mermaid your thieving buddies dared you to break into this grand home and steal an item two of them have been hired to steal. By whom? That never matters in your line of work. But you were drunk and too proud of your own skill in thievery. You boasted that you could do it the next night and so they dared you. You took their dare but when you woke up this morning you realized how badly this could end.

Breaking into the palace of a suspected Vampire Lord is something you never attempted nor have many others. But here you are now, attempting the stupidest heist of your life and only now you’re realizing just how stupid indeed you have been the night before and even more so tonight, for coming here, for breaking in and making it this far. Shit, you don’t even remember what consequences of failing this dare are anymore, you were too arrogant in your drunken haze and you might actually get killed.

So now you’re here, in a small, windowless, positively secret room, adjacent to Lord’s bedroom, your focus on the pedestal in front of you.

“A pretty little thing, aren’t you?” a smooth, almost silky voice comes from behind you and yet it feels like an assault.

You freeze, your fingers extended over a small metal chest that you were picking a lock of just a moment ago. You knew the risks coming here, or at least you hoped you did. And now it looks like you got caught in the act.

As you straighten your back and turn around you are met with crimson eyes, a toothy smirk and relaxed body language of a man who you came here to steal from. Astarion, the newest Lord of Baldur’s Gate, latest patriarch of Szarr palace, a charming man that you heard rumors about of being an actual vampire. Undesirable creatures tend to know of one another’s existence. Him – possibly a dangerous monster and you – a thief and a dagger for hire. For a moment you wonder what will happen if this confrontation comes to fighting. You doubt you could win. Even without confirmation of his possible immortality Lord Astarion has a certain aura about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You eye him slowly, carefully, examining smallest details. His demeanor doesn’t seem threatening but you see those fangs in his mouth and you know what they can do, you know the power he must possess. Yes, it’s no rumor after all, he is a vampire. And if the same rumors are correct – a very powerful one. He doesn’t need a dagger in his hand to be extremely dangerous and you’re not enough of a fool to pick a fight with a Vampire Lord unless you have to.

“Can I assume you’re not here to give me a key?” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re not going to be intimidated by him.

You have one more trick up your sleeve if things go murderously bad, a ring of teleportation that you rarely use because it tends to trigger magical defenses but since Astarion already caught you there’s no reason to avoid using it if you can’t talk your way out of the situation. And you will try to talk your way out of it because you have too much pride to scuttle away like a spooked rat.

Vampire’s eyes slide down your body smoothly like a viper, then back up again. Another glance to the metal box behind you and then back to your eyes. He tilts his face to an angle, giving you a curious look.

“I could. But I do wonder what are you doing here. And more so, I am dying to hear how you got inside without being noticed, how have you made it this far as to end up in my personal chambers.” his tone is still smooth like velvet and it gives you chills.

“Let’s say I’m good at what I do.” you smirk at him, despite your unease and tension in your body you are not going to show even a sliver of it to him.

“Indeed you are.” Astarion now steps closer and you move to the side when he approaches the box, placing his long, nimble fingers on it. You recognize a hand of a man who has picked many such locks himself in the past and you wonder about his history for a moment before he looks at you again, his eyes always on yours, almost never leaving.

“Do you know what’s in there, darling?” vampire asks and you cross your arms on your chest, shifting your weight on the other foot. Your goal is also to appear non-threatening but your muscles are tight as a spring.

“I was hoping it’s the Amulet of Weeping.” you say straightforwardly. You see no reason to lie because unless Astarion keeps something more in the box he knows perfectly well what you were trying to get.

Vampire chuckles lightly and taps his fingertips on the lid of the box.

“Indeed. Do you know what it does, you precious little thief?” the smirk on his lips and his eyes, forever locked on yours, it’s almost all you can see.

Yet his question makes you lose your cool. You look at the metal box and clear your throat, stalling for time but then look back at him.

“Well, actually I don’t. You see-“ a sudden finger on your lips, silencing you. If he’s a vampire, why his touch is so warm? And how in the Nine Hells he’s so fast? You didn’t even see him move, it was like a flash, it happened in a blink of an eye.

Oh yes, he’s even more dangerous than the tales you’ve heard.

“Shh. Don’t speak.” Astarion’s voice is soothing, alluring.

What is this… Why you feel so relaxed, so… warm? Your alertness starts to blunt, your caution begins to turn into curiosity and are you flushing? Your face feels hot and this change you feel somehow does not feel strange or unwelcome. It’s like being embraced, it’s like being caressed, you belong.

And all you can see is the crimson of his eyes.

“There we go. I’m sure you’re feeling better. Don’t resist, my dear, just relax, I’m not going to harm you. Maybe I will even reward you for being so brave.” Astarion croons with a voice like silk.

“Reward?” you ask, feeling like you’re in a dream. A voice in the back of your head tells you you’re being charmed but that voice is quickly snuffed out. It’s gone like a whisp of smoke from a candle that just got blown out. One moment it’s there and then not even a memory of it lingers.

“Yes, a reward, darling. Wouldn’t you like to be rewarded?” vampire’s fingers now grip your chin softly, lifting your face to his, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“What… kind of reward?” even your own voice sounds distant now but you couldn’t care less. Those eyes… Those red eyes that bore into yours… They are everything.

“Ah, now what kind of reward we will have to see for ourselves.” Astarion smirks but his fangs don’t bother you anymore, if anything they look attractive, lighting a fire in your belly. “Let’s go, I’ll let you pick your reward, you little thief.”

With that he moves his fingers from your chin and wraps his arm around your shoulders, now leading you out of this small room. You follow without question or hesitation, but glance back at the box just once, trying to remember what was so special about it and why did you even come here. No, you don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter, not anymore.

When you look in front of you the door opens and a view of a lavish bedroom greets you. A big, luxurious bed with bedposts and parted drapes, all in black or red or gold. Simple glance around the room reveals several paintings, some bookshelves and cabinets, closets and a table, some comfortable looking armchairs. The carpet even under your boots feels soft, you almost want to lay down on it. But Astarion’s arm around your shoulders makes you walk further, towards the bed, and you barely register the door behind you closing.

Why are you here? Oh yes, the reward. When Astarion stops you just in front of the bed, his arm leaves you and he turns you to him by your shoulders. When your eyes land on his you smile. He’s so beautiful, so handsome, he’s the prettiest being you have ever seen. He sees your smile, your glazed over eyes and smiles in return.

“Not afraid of me, are you?” he asks and you slowly shake your head. “Very good. I must say, you are very very pretty, darling. What’s your name?”

Your name… Your name? What’s your name?

Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes scan his chest and noses of your boots as if the answer is written somewhere in his noble’s attire or in the leather of your shoes. You look up at him again and Vampire Lord chuckles.

“Well, that matters not. You will remember soon enough.” Astarion uses both hands to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears and you smile at him again. His touch is soft, warm and wanted. “But, to get back to my point, you are beautiful.” he leans closer to your face, his smile and his eyes become your whole world. “And I like to collect beautiful things.”

“Things?” you echo and something once more tugs at your mind but then disappears again. You’re perfectly in his control. Under his gaze you can’t resist him.

Astarion does not bother to reply, his gaze sweeps down your body, analyzing every piece of clothing you’re wearing, then his nimble fingers begin unclasping your leather armor, taking it off piece by piece, dropping one item after another to the side of his feet. At first you don’t realize what’s going on, you just watch his face but when vampire slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders you finally blink in confusion.

When you look down at yourself you see yourself half naked, your nipples perk up at the contrast between the air of the room and the warmth of your clothing that just got removed. You rise your eyes to Astarion and see his smile once more. You don’t recognize the gentle malice in his expression but even if you did you wouldn’t care, not until the fog is lifted from your mind.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Vampire Lord whispers and his face is so close you can smell wine on his breath and… something else. Something metallic, coppery, you can’t put your finger on it.

Your face scrunches at the thought, your eyes move to his lips and his smile, you see the fangs.

Ah yes, that’s right, he’s a vampire.

Wait, what are you doing here?

You gasp, your thoughts get interrupted by Astarion pinching both your nipples at the same time. Again you feel the fire in your abdomen, you recognize it as desire and you look into his eyes, the crimson of them drowning you like a lake of blood. And you give in.

“I want something from you.” Vampire Lord’s whisper replaces your thoughts and you just stand there with your face flushed and your body reacting with a shiver because he’s still teasing your nipples. “Something you can give me with ease.” a pause, a moment passes, then you feel his palm press against the small of your back and push you towards him, against his chest. Your hands grasp his waist and your lips part. “Just give in, darling. And I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

You see his grin and it would look dangerous to you if you weren’t completely in his control. Instead of fear you feel overwhelming lust and you close your eyes, turning your face up and inviting him for a kiss.

And Astarion does kiss you. His lips clash against yours in a hurry and passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, past your teeth, it tastes you and you taste him back. Yes, you recognize what it was that you smelled before – blood. You taste it on his lips, you taste it on his tongue and you don’t care. Your heart beats fast in your chest, your fingers now move to his clothing, trying to find clasps, buttons and laces. You manage to open his doublet, slip it off his shoulders. You don’t hear it falling to the floor, because only thing you’re hearing is your own heartbeat beating fast in your ears.

But then the kiss stops. You don’t know how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, a year? Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough, you don’t want it to stop and you barely open your eyes before you immediately try to kiss him again, eliciting a chuckle out of the Vampire Lord.

“How eager.” he comments but you don’t care. Your arms find his neck and you try to pull his head lower, to your level, your lips seek his with urgency, but with ease Astarion pushes you away. “Patience, my pet. I’ll reward you soon enough.”

You exhale in dizzy frustration but lower your hands, obeying. It’s easy to listen to him, you realize. What a pleasant feeling, you could do this forever.

“Stand still, darling.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you return to the present.

You now watch him undo laces of your pants and slide them down your hips and thighs, together with your underwear, exposing you fully. You don’t know what shame is and you don’t remember how embarrassment feels like. You only know one thing – you want this man, you want him to take you and it’s hard not to start begging.

Astarion guides you while he takes off your pants and shoes, helping you step out of last bits of your clothing and when he raises again he puts one arm around your hips, leading you to the bed. It looks so soft, inviting. You want to spend forever in it with him. So when you feel vampire pat you on the ass, urging you to climb in, you do so without hesitation.

When you turn around and lay on your back, you have a moment to watch Astarion shed his own clothing in full. He takes his time, his eyes roaming up and down your nude body, his eyes would tell you of possessiveness and even a hint of cruelness if you could think straight, but right now you only see that he wants you. After he pulls his pants down and his eager erection is revealed, you swallow hardly. You want it in you, you want to taste it, you want to please him. You want to serve.

“Do you like what you see?” Astarion taunts and you nod without any shame, your lips part and you lick them, your gaze focused on his cock, so ready to make you his, maybe forever.

Vampire Lord kicks off his shoes at last, then removes his pants completely and after he straightens his back, you watch his hand grasp his shaft and give it a few slow strokes. After the third or fourth you notice precum glistening at the top of his cock.

“Ah…” is only thing you manage to say, your desire coiling and moving in you like a hungry snake. Your reaction makes Astarion chuckle and the sound of it forces yours eyes back on his once more.

He gets closer and climbs into bed slowly with a grace of a predator, his body moves on top of yours and you part your legs widely for him, welcoming him. You lean your head back, relaxing in the bed and Astarion once more sweeps your body with his gaze, stopping at your breasts.

“Touch yourself.” he commands and you immediately do so. Your hands raise, cup your breasts, your fingertips graze your nipples and then pinch them, roll them, tug at them gently while you do as instructed. You see how intensively Astarion is watching you, his smirk widens when you let out a soft moan, then another. You were ready for him already, this is just making it worse.

Finally he looks down, between your legs, and with one hand pressed against the bed for support with other he traces the inner side of your thigh up and then higher. When he touches your entrance, feels how wet you are for him, he exhales slowly. His fingers explore every inch of your sex, making you gasp and moan louder, then his thumb brushes against your clit, sending a shiver through your body.

“You’re so ready for me, pet.” Astarion’s voice is husky, it’s obvious he’s getting worked up too as his eyes dart between his own fingers exploring you and you playing with your nipples.

That dreamy feeling you’ve been feeling up until now lessens, maybe it’s because Astarion is less concentrated, maybe your own desire is making your mind begin to break free but you now realize that you’ve got seduced into this man’s bed. Yet you’re too aroused, too impassioned to stop here. And your body still screams to be taken, to be conquered and to be claimed.

And he’s just so beautiful. No, you’re not free from his charm and allure, not even close, and your mind focuses on his silver locks falling gracefully around his face, you see his eyes, now filled with lust and desire, examining every inch of your body. You feel his fingers making you moan with a practiced touch and you want more. So much more.

“Take me.” you hear yourself say with a gasp and your hips buck against his fingers as if your own body is out of your control, not only your thoughts.

Astarion now looks into your eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to do so much more, my dearest pet. I’m going to claim you, I’m going to fill your tight holes and then I’ll have you beg for more.” his words send a shiver down your body that pools between your thighs, his fingers tease your cunt and he immediately notices that you got even wetter, it makes him smirk. “I’ll make you mine, I’ll claim you, and I will keep filling you with my seed every night. And who knows, maybe you’ll give me an heir eventually.”

Silence falls while your face gets redder with his every word.

An heir? He wants you to do what? Yet his eyes are still your entire world and your body moves, your hips moving again, your cunt pressing against his fingers in need.

Yes, you will give him an heir. As long as you can be his.

Your hands leave your breasts and you put your palms on the back of his head, your fingers threading in his hair.

“Yes, I will.” you whisper and that reply rewards you with a passionate kiss.

Astarion’s fingers now leave your drenched seam and roughly pull your knee up, making you hook your leg around his waist. His chest presses against yours and you sigh against his lips.

And then he enters you. One swift thrust and he’s fully inside, stretching you almost to a point of uncomfortable fullness and you moan at that, your mouth remains open with the gasp but his lips are also parted, he’s enjoying the feeling of you around his cock. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and your fingers clench in his hair.

“Take me. Make me yours.” you whisper and a guttural growl escapes Astarion’s throat at your words. He doesn’t wait, he begins thrusting.

You close your eyes and moan, feeling his cock pierce you again and again. You’re so aroused his shaft is moving with satisfying ease, his hips snapping against you with increasing pace.

“Fuck, you’re going to look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” Astarion grunts and lowers his head to your neck, kissing it first, then nibbling the skin with his teeth. His hand grips your thigh strongly, keeping it up.

Only response you can give him is your moans, loud and unashamed. You hold onto his neck and hair while he rocks himself against you, filling you deeply with his cock, his thrusts unrelenting. It feels like he’s been going at it for hours and every second is better than the last.

Your mind swims from sensations. His sweaty skin against yours, his shaft buried deep inside your cunt, his teeth on your neck, his fangs-

“Ouch!” you exclaim when he bites down, sinking his canines into your flesh, but when you react you hear a rumble of a laugh coming from him. Astarion lifts his head at you, his lips are painted in redness of your blood.

“Get used to it, my pet. You’re mine now.”

Vampire Lord bites you again and this time you just sigh. Somehow his first bite was painful, second one sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers leave his hair, you place your palms on his back, feeling something there like scars, but you don’t know, you’re far away, consumed by your passion. It’s just his lithe body claiming yours, making you writhe and arch your back, making you moan.

Then Astarion slows, he moves his hips now lower, his pelvis brushes against yours, then an angle changes and he begins rubbing himself against your swollen clit, sending jolts down your spine. You open your eyes, more in surprise than anything and see Astarion’s smug smile.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?” he lifts his head with a smug smile, confident because he knows he’s good at this and he’s correct. You whimper and nod eagerly, your face still flushed. “Good.”

Astarion’s thrusts ease into a steady pace. How his skin is rubbing against you is beginning to drive you crazy. You look at him, not able to control your moans that are growing louder by the second. What is he doing to you? You never felt pleasure like this before. You can’t stop, you don’t want to stop.

“Come for me.” you hear a whisper in your ear and then he looks at your face again, enjoying the view.

Everything up until this point felt like a dream, but not this.

You feel your orgasm with every inch of your body. You cry out and dig your nails into Astarion’s back, your body tenses and your cunt clenches around him, your sweaty form spasms and you feel yourself clinging to him.

“Good girl, very good girl.”

You are barely able to comprehend Astarion’s words, because the world melts around you, this moment is intense, most intense thing you experienced in your life. But Vampire Lord doesn’t stop thrusting. When your bliss begins to fade, when you come down from your high, you look at him again and Astarion leans away from you. He straightens his back as much as he can, his palms pressed on the bed by your sides and his now messy hair drapes over his eyes but you see him watching his cock plunge into you with increasing fervor.

“Watch me fill you, my pet.” vampire’s grunt is laced with strain as he keeps fucking you while you’re trying to recover from your orgasm. You’re out of breath but this is not over, not until he says it is.

And you listen, you look down, seeing your bodies connect with every pump of his hips and you grasp at the sheets. Something about this, the anticipation, the knowledge of what he’s about to do and the desire to be used by him, it’s making the edges of your world blurry.

Astarion is grunting now, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. Even his face is flushed, but then he moans loudly just before he clenches his teeth. His thrusts become erratic, his eyes locked on the motion of him thrusting into you, his groans are barely passing his teeth. You know he’s spending himself entirely inside of you and it’s a delicious thought. And then after few more pumps he stops, panting when his face relaxes. You keep your eyes where your bodies are still connected, your thighs are quivering, and Astarion glances up at you with a smirk.

He says nothing as he moves one hand and grips the base of his cock, slowly pulling out of you now. You mewl gently at that, the feeling of him leaving your body is an unwelcome one. But Astarion is not done yet. He kneels between your thighs and pats your inner thigh with his cock that is now losing its hardness. With a satisfied grin he lets go of it and presses a thumb to your fold, teasing it, watching his cum seep out of you. You blush heavily at that even though you can’t see what he’s seeing.

“Beautiful.” Vampire Lord comments more to himself than to you and remains still for a long moment, just appreciating the view. Then his eyes raise to your face. “Rest for a bit. When I said I’m going to fill your holes, I meant all of them.”

You nod eagerly despite your face burning.

You cannot wait.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The World Ended

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Joel Miller is hella manipulative, power imbalance, non descriptive age gap, Dub Con, smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, rough sex, P in V, Dom!Joel Miller, breeding kink adjacent if you squint and read between the lines, mentions of death of child, mentions of suicidal ideation (no more so than the show discusses), mentions of trauma, inspired by '10 Cloverfield Lane'

Word Count: 5,852

Summary: You wake up in an entirely new world, but you find comfort and love in an ally. He saved your life after all. Why wouldn't you trust him? Haunted Hoedown prompt: Stranded AU/Cult AU + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

[a/n: my contribution for haunted hoedown b/c i was inspired and couldn't resist (def cheated and ignored the days tho i just picked my fav parts of different prompts lol). 10/10 would recommend surfing that tag b/c people are making WORKS OF ART. This is just my toss it together addition lol]

"manipulation and control can sometimes be disguised as love." -abegail turingan

It was odd to wake up with no memory of going to bed. Disorienting was probably the more accurate word. Enough so that for a brief moment all you could do was stare up at the concrete ceiling above you. There was a headache lingering behind your eyes that no amount of blinking would clear away. Where were the stars? The thought drifted through your foggy mind. Your bedroom had glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling. A design choice that a nine year old you chose at the store, and one that your parents were never able to peel away no matter how many years had passed⏤ they were nostalgic in that sense. You must have been just like them considering you admired those cheap, plastic stars while staying in your parents’ home during this visit.

But the stars were gone.

Everything was gone, and the sharp smell of antiseptic and bleach replaced the floral scent of your mother’s detergent. You turned your head into your pillow in hopes that the comfort of your bed would ease the headache that seemed to worsen the longer you were awake. You found no comfort though because the pillow you laid on was not your own. 

Slowly, you began to sit up and you weren’t sure what was more distracting: the unexplained aching pain of all your muscles or the unfamiliar strange room you found yourself sitting in. The walls were like the ceiling, undecorated concrete, and the only bit of furniture was the metal framed cot you were now lying on. A hospital gown covered your otherwise bare body. 

The clarity that settled in your mind was stark and startling. Any of the fog you initially woke with vanished in a snap, and your breaths came in quick, hyperventilated gasps. Oh, God. Oh, God. You threw your sore legs over the edge of the bed to rise. Your feet only brushed against the cold tile of the ground before you found yourself sprawled on the floor. 

“Help…” The word left your lips in a breathless whisper as you tried to move your weak legs. You could only manage to sit up. “Help.” With every attempt, your voice grew stronger until you were screaming. “Help me! Help!”

A heavy, metal door, one across the room that you hadn’t even noticed in your panicked state, began to creak open. You sucked in a sharp breath, fear palpable, as an unfamiliar man stood in the doorway. He was older than you. Gray littered his brown, messy hair and facial hair, but it suited him. The man wore a dark green flannel that accented his broad shoulders. Everything about his figure exuded strength and intimidation from his build to the large hands that held a box of some kind. However, the moment his dark brown eyes landed on yours they softened. His shoulders hunched marginally, as if he were trying to look smaller than he actually was, and a line of worry formed between his furrowed brow.

“Hey! I need someone in ‘ere!” He barked over his shoulder, never breaking eye contact, in a deeply southern drawl. The man rushed into the room toward you, but when you flinched at his approach he slowed his pace. He took one hand off the box to hold in your direction, palm stretched outward, “It’s alright. You’re safe. Promise.” Coming from a stranger, and in this scenario, his words did nothing to calm your racing heart. You crawled backwards until your back hit the cot. Your name suddenly left his lips. “I’m⏤ My name is Joel.”

“How⏤ How do you know my name?” You gasped.

“Your license. It was in your bag. Didn’ mean to pry but…” Joel said slowly. “Are you⏤”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you blurted out, “Where the hell am I? Why am I here? What is going on? I⏤”

“Whoa, whoa.” Joel knelt down in front of you but kept his distance which you appreciated. “One thing at a time, darlin’.” He shook his head. “You were in a car accident… ‘bout two days ago now.”

“A car accident?” As the words left your own lips, there was a flicker of some forgotten memory playing in your head. The sound of a car horn, blinding headlights, the crunch of metal on metal, and the taste of blood. You flinched, “I… Oh, God.” You held your head with a trembling hand but winced as your hand brushed against a tender spot on the left side of your face. “Is this… Is this a hospital then?” The room resembled a prison more than it did a hospital room. Plus, it made no sense to you that your parents weren’t here. The man saw your license which meant they’d know who to contact. “Where is my family?”

Joel hesitated and you saw a look of what almost looked like regret in his eyes. You repeated your question more firmly this time. He sighed, “That’s… tougher to answer.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

A second later, a man and a woman dressed in bright orange HAZMAT suits came storming into the room. It was a blur of yelling and chaos and they descended upon you. Joel argued loudly with them and your head was spinning enough that it was difficult to follow what was happening. Gloved hands wrapped around your arm, ripping you up from the ground, but it was short lived. The man who had grabbed you was shoved away by Joel who gently sat you on the side of the cot before standing in front of you as a barrier.

“Don’ you fuckin’ grab her like that.” Joel snarled. The soft kindness that had been in his tone only moments ago was gone now. “You hear me??”

“Sir, you are not supposed to be in here.” The woman snapped. “Her wounds⏤”

“Her wounds are from the accident. I already told you.”

“We still need to test her⏤”

“Fine, but you don’ jus’ fuckin’ grab ‘er like that!”

There was nothing about this moment that could be called peaceful, but Joel’s defensive stance and his deep voice somehow managed to calm your racing heart. You didn’t know why the man was so protective over you, but you’d take any ally you could in this moment. The argument continued long enough for only a few more verbal jabs at one another. It settled on Joel sitting by your side glaring at the man in the HAZMAT suit as he used two separate swabs on you. One against the wound on your forehead and the other in your mouth.

“By entering without precautionary measures, you have bought yourself another 24 hours of quarantine, Mr. Miller.” The woman announced.

Joel didn’t respond but just glared at the woman instead. The second the two of them disappeared out of the room, Joel’s features softened again. You hugged yourself, trying to keep from shaking, and swallowed the lump that now sat in the middle of your throat. “Thank you. For that.”

“Least I can do.” Joel murmured as his eyes traced your face⏤ examining your wound, you assumed. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, but Joel didn’t elaborate. Sitting this close to him, there was something familiar about. You weren’t sure why because you were positive you had never spoken to him before. You’d remember a face this handsome. A voice that distinct and hypnotizing. “How do you feel?”

“Um. Sore. Confused.” You admitted. Recalling how the woman addressed him, you cleared your throat. “Mr. Miller⏤”

“Joel, darlin’. Jus’ Joel.”

“Joel…” You tested the name out. “Please⏤ Please tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Where is my family? Why⏤ Why were they in HAZMAT suits?”

The stranger you were finding comfort in let out a slow sigh. He rose from the bed to pick up the box he had brought with him. You had forgotten about that entirely. Joel sat back down after opening it and offered it to you. There was a simple set of men’s clothes in the box along with a water bottle and bag of chips. He shook his head. 

“All I had were a few of my spare things.” Joel said. “Figured you might be thirsty or⏤ or hungry.”

You appreciated the gesture, but it wasn’t what you wanted right now, “Joel. What happened?”

He let out another long sigh before meeting your gaze with a look of mourning, “The world ended, darlin’.”

The bunker was large enough to fit thirty or so people. It was an underground, concrete community made by a survivalist who went by the name of Ezra. You had yet to meet this mysterious man which felt odd since the community wasn’t that large, but it wasn’t too shocking since you didn’t do much exploring since your arrival. 

The world had ended. That’s what Joel told you. Hell, that’s what everyone kept telling you, but none of them could tell you concretely how. Every time the discussion came up, there was a new story involved. Aliens had invaded. Zombies had overtaken. A virus wiped out humanity. The theories were endless and since you couldn’t remember your last moments above ground you had no opinion on the matter. The last thing you could recall was leaving the house to meet some old friends who stayed local to your hometown for drinks. You got into the car, and the next thing you remembered was waking up in a concrete room.

You hoped your memory would come back gradually, but two weeks had passed and nothing was any more clear. You mourned a muddled memory. Families and friends ripped away from you in uncertain measures, and it left you reeling. The only pillar you had right now was Joel Miller. He had saved you in more ways than one. When the world went to shit, Joel was on his way to the bunker. All the people here were either friends or they knew this Ezra character in some way and that’s how they bought themselves a ticket into this sanctuary. Joel had been the survivalist’s contractor. Helped build this place and even mocked the man when first given the job. 

But, when the world did end, Joel was offered safety and on his way there he came across your wreck on the side of the road. He scooped you up and fought for your place here with him.

You owed him your life.

The sound of a door opening snapped you out of the daze you had fallen into. Joel stepped into the shared bunk space looking worn out. While your simple duty in this community was currently food prep, Joel’s was more labored. He helped with any repairs and upkeep to ensure everything was working as it should. He dropped his tool belt by the door with a groan.

“Long day?” You asked with a small smile. Joel grunted an affirmative. He crossed the small room to drop down onto the couch. Since you were technically an add on rather than one of the invited, you were forced to share the room with Joel. Though ‘forced’ wasn’t quite the right word. You honestly didn’t mind it at all. Having a familiar face, even if it were one you only just met, brought you comfort. Though you kind of felt bad he was now stuck with you. There was no way he could’ve known saving your life off the side of the street was going to chain your existence to him.

The room was decent though. There was a simple bed in one corner, a couch pushed up against the wall, a table with two chairs, and a mostly empty drawer. Over the last two weeks, you and Joel had collected or traded objects to make the room your own. You traded a set of spare socks that had come with the room for a small, blue vase that you set in the middle of the table. Joel had even managed to find a few books and magazines that he gifted you.

You pushed up from the bed to sit on the couch beside him. You pulled your legs in to tuck under yourself. The shirt you wore was one of his flannels, you still had limited clothing options, but you had managed to scourge up a pair of yoga pants that fit you well enough. 

“You?” Joel asked as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

“Food prep was exciting as always.” You joked. Joel breathed out a small, tired chuckle. You nodded toward the bed. “Lay down. Sleep.” Joel shot you a light glare. From the beginning, Joel was adamant about sleeping on the couch so you could have the bed. Even when you told him it made more sense for him to have the bed since you were smaller. Joel wouldn’t even listen to the suggestion of swapping turns. “Joel.”

“Couch is fine.” Joel replied gruffly and closed his eyes.

“If it’s fine then I should have no issues sleeping on it, right?”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

You set your hand on his arm and felt him slightly stiffen at your touch. Joel cracked open his eyes to peek at you. “Please take the bed tonight. Please.” He furrowed his brow and you gave his arm a squeeze. “Nothing would make me happier right now. I’m serious.”

Joel didn’t say anything to begin with. He just held your gaze and under the weight of his stare you felt the back of your neck warm. The man was painfully attractive, it couldn’t be argued, but that wasn’t what made your heart skip a beat or your core secretly ache. It was the way Joel looked at you and spoke to you. The way he treated you. If his gaze were to be believed, you must have been a work of art. Joel stared at you like a dying man watching his last sunset. His voice was always deep and honeyed when he spoke to you. The words he chose put the respect and care he had for you on clear display. 

The world ended and everything in your life felt cold, but not Joel. Joel was warmth.

Joel’s other hand settled on top of your smaller one. His thumb traced your knuckles and your throat felt tight at the contact. He gave your hand a quick squeeze and then stood up with a groan. You heard his knees crack, but he made no comment on it. Joel just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Thank you, baby.”

You watched him kick off his boots and drop into bed. A soft groan left his lips and he fell asleep before the lights were even off.

 The sky was blue. Your head rested on Joel’s shoulder as the two of you sat on the ground leaning back against the wall. A total of a month had passed now, and you confided in Joel that you missed the sky. In response, he brought you here. It was a restricted space that he only had access to because he would come up here to do repairs on the electrical system. In the entire bunker, it was the closest to above ground that you could be. Only one staircase and a thick, metal door separated you from the world outside. On the door was a small window and from where you sat you could see a patch of sky.

“Do you think the world really ended?” You asked softly.

Joel glanced at you without jostling your position too much, “What’dya mean?”

“The sky is too pretty for the world to have ended, don’t you think?” You mumbled. It wasn’t just the sky that created your doubt. There was a woman who worked with the mysterious Ezra. She said she would type out anything he dictated to her. She didn’t think the world had ended. She thought it was all some conspiracy or ploy. You weren’t sure how much weight you put into her words, but it left the question in your mind. “What if the world is completely normal up there and we’re just rotting away in a tomb?”

Joel shook his head. “You hear the sirens an’ gunfire. The SOS broadcasts on the radio.”

“Couldn’t that be faked?” You asked. Joel hummed in a noncommittal fashion. You shrugged, “You never told me how the world ended. Everyone else has given me their two cents, but you never talk about it.”

“Cause it doesn’ matter.”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Joel was silent for a few moments, but you waited patiently for him to speak. He shifted and with your head still on his shoulder, his hand found yours. “It doesn’ matter ‘cause… my world ended two years ago.” You lifted your head so you could face him, but Joel kept his eyes on the patch of blue sky. “I… I lost my daughter. Sarah.” You squeezed his hand as your heart ached for him. “Wasn’t fair. Should’ve been me. But… But nothin’ has made much sense since.”

“Joel, I am… I am so sorry.” You whispered.

“I lied.” Joel said and your eyebrows furrowed. He swallowed nervously and finally turned to look at you. “When I found ya, I wasn’ headin’ to the bunker.”

“Where… Where were you going then?”

“Home.” Joel shrugged. “The sirens were goin’ off, people were in a frenzy, Ezra texted me some freakish invite, but… I planned on headin’ home to jus’ wait for the end.” It was devastating to hear someone you had come to care so much for admit that truth. Your heart broke for him. Not a single shred of you could ever imagine the pain or horror of losing a child. “On my way, I ran into you. Saw your car flipped on the side of the road. Once I got ya out, it’s not like I could take ya to the hospital with the way all of it was so…”

Joel motioned to the bunker around the both of you. The rest was history. In the silence, you could hear the whirring noise of the motors working the fans and the pounding of your heart in your ears. You let the hand not in his lift to rake your fingertips through the scruff on his jaw as your thumb rubbed back and forth over his cheek. Joel’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch and a soft breath left his lips. He leaned into your hand.

“I… Joel, I don’t know what to say…”

“This is ‘nough.” Joel murmured. There was a tension that had formed the second you caressed Joel’s face and it only built the longer you were in contact with him. It was a long time coming and was only coming to a head just now. You could control yourself, you were sure of it, but when Joel’s sad eyes opened once more the breath was knocked out of your lungs. His lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re the first thing I’ve cared ‘bout in a very long time, baby.”

The world had ended, supposedly. What was the use of wasted time?

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was soft and hesitant. A brush of you against him as Joel breathed in a strangled gasp. He pulled back and your heart dropped. Embarrassment filled your very soul as you let your hand fall away from him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I just thought, every moment might be our last, we should make the most of it. Or⏤”

“It’s not that, baby girl.” Joel immediately cupped your face and you felt yourself melt between his warm, coarse hands. “You don’ owe me this. You know that, right? I don’ expect…”

You gave a small shake of your head, your eyes glued to his lips, “I know, Joel. I know. I… This is my choice. I want you.”

Joel took in a slow breath through his nose as his jaw locked. His hands tightened around your face, caressing the skin along your face and neck, and one hand slipped to cup the back of your head as his forehead leaned against yours. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, “Say it again.”

“I want you, Joel.”

Joel initiated the kiss this time, and it was far from hesitant. At your consent, it was like he dropped all semblance of his self control. His lips were bruising against yours and Joel was desperate in getting you closer. He dragged you over so you were straddling his lap. His hands roamed down your body until they found your hips. Joel’s tongue slipped past your parted lips just as he dragged your aching core against his half hard cock⏤ thrusting up against you while swallowing the moan that left your throat.

He wrapped an arm around your middle and suddenly you found yourself on your back. The cool concrete floor was jarring to how hot you felt. Hands sunk into the waistband and with one firm pull both your tights and underwear were down to your ankles. You gasped in surprise, but Joel didn’t pause. 

“Jesus Christ, what a pretty fuckin’ pussy, baby.” Joel groaned and tugged a foot out from your clothes so both articles wrapped around only one of your legs. He roughly grabbed your thighs and dragged you closer so when he dropped to the ground his mouth was immediately buried into your warmth. You yelped at the contact but it was followed by a wanton groan as his tongue ravished you. It was messy and rushed. Joel ate you out like you were his last meal, and the groans and slurping sounds he made were downright sinful.

“Joel! I⏤ Oh, God.” You gasped and your hands buried in his hair. Your hips lifted to chase after his mouth, but Joel dropped his arm across your waist and pinned you to the floor with a chuckle. 

Joel lifted his face and turned to bite down on your thigh. You cried out at the sting of his teeth against your skin, but the drag of his hot tongue against the spot left you whimpering. “C’mon, baby.” You tugged on his hair to try and get his lips back where you wanted them, but he stayed firm. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

“Want you, Joel. Need you.”

Thick fingers dragged up and down through the mess he’d already made and one began to prod at your entrance without actually sinking in. “Again.”

“Please. Please!” You tried to grind down against him, but his grip on your waist kept you in place. “I want you, Joel. Want you so badly. Please.” Joel had one fingertip circling your hole, but at your desperate pleas he sunk three of his large fingers right in. You screamed, both in alarm and at the sharp sting, “Shit! Joel, too much!”

“Shhh, baby girl. You’re okay.” His lips found your clit and the suction he applied there slowly took away the sting of his rapidly moving fingers. Just as he reassured you, you were okay. More than okay. Pleasure was clouding your mind and you were a squirming, sopping mess under him. Joel’s fingers curled up into you, dragging against your walls, and he made quick work in finding the spot that punched stars into your vision. “There we go, baby. Jus’ like that.” He kept his lips against your clit as he spoke and your wet flesh muffled his praise. “Lemme feel you squeeze ‘round my fingers so I can feel you squeeze ‘round my fat cock. C’mon.”

Teeth nipped at your clit, followed by the smoothing of his tongue, and combined with the pounding of his fingers you came with a shuddering cry. Joel didn’t stop his onslaught and he lowered his lips from your clit so he could drink up every bit of the soaking wet mess he made.

“Joel. Fuck.” You gasped for the air he had somehow managed to punch out of your lungs with his hand alone. “That was…”

“Not done, baby girl.” Joel sat up on his knees but kept his place between your legs. You weakly pushed yourself up onto your elbows and it only dawned on you then that this entire time he had been fully clothed. It was an almost uncomfortable balance between the two of you. “Get up ‘ere.” You began to push up from your elbows and the moment you were close enough his hand wrapped around the back of your neck so he could help you up the rest of the way into the seated position you now sat in. He gazed down at you, pupils blown in lust, and his dark stare soaked in the sight of you. “Say it.”

Knowing exactly what he wanted, you mumbled, “I want you, Joel.”

“Good girl. Open.” Joel grunted. The hand at the back of your neck grabbed you by the hair and he tugged down so your chin was tilted up. Joel shoved the three fingers he had deep in your cunt into your mouth. You closed your lips around him and moaned at the taste of yourself. “Belt, baby. Get my belt.”

You tried to glance down, but Joel kept his grip on you tight so you could only stare up at him as he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth. Blindly, your hands groped for his belt and you struggled to get it undone as you gagged around his fingers.

“Shh. You can multitask, baby, I believe in ya.” Joel cooed and didn’t relent. “Work at it. Be good.” You traced his thick fingers with your tongue and your hands finally managed to get his belt undone. You got your hands into his pants, tugging down his boxers, and Joel groaned loudly as your hands wrapped around his hard, girthy cock. The size of him alone had you tense in surprise. “Hey, it’s alright, baby girl.” Joel’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but cough to try and clear the tickle at the back of your throat. He carefully pushed you down, onto your back again, but he followed with you so he was hovering over your body. One hand at the back of your neck, cupping it softly, while his other rested by your head to hold himself up. “You can handle this. I swear, this perfect pussy is made for me, baby.”

Joel lowered himself to capture your lips with his. The kiss was soft and tender. It was a sweet moment as his cock dragged slowly against you. His tongue licked against the curve of your lower lip just as the tip of him notched at your hole. You opened your mouth to ask him to start slow, but Joel shoved his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, as his painfully large cock shoved into you. You screamed, muffled by his own mouth, as he bottomed out in one single thrust. Tears involuntarily sprung to your eyes at the intrusion and you pulled your lips away from Joel by turned you head. Your fingernails dug into his back.

“Joel, that⏤ that kind of hurt.”

“I know, I’m sorry, baby girl.” Joel buried his face into the crook of your neck. He left open mouth kisses there between reassurances. “Jus’ give it a minute. You’re doin’ so good. So good.” Joel was thankfully staying still inside of you and with the work he put in along the length of your neck you began to feel the sting start to fade. Joel shifted, just a bit, and you shuddered at the slight drag of him. His cock twitched and he moaned against your skin. “Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect. Knew you would.” Joel gave a short, experimental thrust and you gasped at the wave of pleasure you were pulled under. “Gotta move, baby girl.”

Joel pulled back until just the tip remained then rocked his hips forward hard enough to push you across the concrete floor. He roughly grabbed you by the thigh and pulled your leg up. You followed his lead and hooked your ankles around his back as Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightened and he quickly fell into an unrelenting pace. 

“Told you, baby girl.” Joel grunted, the only other sound being your breathless moans and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking his cock in with every powerful thrust. “Made for me.” Joel sung praises as that band of want and desire tightened in your core by the second. His hand slipped between your bodies to find your clit once more and your eyes squeezed shut with a gasp. As soon as they shut though, his touch was gone and with that hand he grabbed you by the face. Your eyes snapped back open in surprise. “Nuh uh. Eyes on me. You hear me?” You nodded and he tightened his grip⏤ his fingers digging almost painfully into your cheeks. “Words, baby. Lemme hear you say it.”

“Keep⏤” You gasped. “Keep my eyes on you.”

“Good girl.” Joel’s hand slipped back down and when his fingers reached their goal it took every bit of strength to keep your eyes open. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train and a cry of pleasure slipped past your lips. Joel groaned loudly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Takin’ me so well, baby girl, just like I knew you would.” 

His pace ramped up but he lost his rhythm and in a brief moment of clarity you gasped, “Joel! Joel, you gotta⏤ fuck! Oh God. You gotta pull out, Joel.” He didn’t slow and for a brief moment sharp fear mingled with the overwhelming pleasure. “Joel!”

At last second, Joel ripped himself off you with a guttural groan and you felt the warmth of his release spurt on your hips. Your entire body went lax as he continued to milk the last bit of him onto your body and you felt the warm, sticky cum drip down the sides of your hip and down into your pussy as well. 

Joel tucked himself back into his pants, without clasping his jeans, and he rubbed a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. You were trying to catch your breath as Joel separated your underwear from where it was tangled with your yoga pants around your ankle. You lifted your head and watched as he used your underwear to wipe away the cum now drying on your skin. 

“C’mon, baby girl.” He tucked your panties, now a damp mess of your spend and his, into his flannel pocket and helped you slide your legs back into the yoga pants. When they were back in place, he pulled you to stand and grinned when your knees nearly buckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and clung to his shoulders. “That was… a lot.”

That had felt incredible, and the fact that it was Joel made it even better. But, it had been rougher than you thought it’d be. Not that you really minded. It just… caught you off guard. Your mind was still too drunk on pleasure to fully understand your feelings on it.

Joel leaned in to settle his lips against your temple. He hummed, “From the second I saw you, baby girl, I just knew you’d be my world.”

“The first second?” You teased. “Me bleeding in an upside down car?”

His lips were curled up into a smile you could only describe as boyish. Joel leaned in again to lock his lips with yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck to help hold yourself up.

The world had ended, but you had a new world now and everything would be just fine.

Right?

BEFORE

Joel stood at the gas pump staring at his phone as his truck was filled. His strange client, the survivalist who asked him to help build a bunker, had shot him a message that made little to no sense. He rambled about the “end of the world”, and invited Joel to join him in the bunker for the “start of something new”. Joel tossed his phone back into his truck with full plans to ignore it. He’d drive to the bar and spend the night drinking. It’d be nothing new. He was a regular at this point.

As he climbed into the driver’s seat his gaze lifted and he spotted you exiting a store across the street.

You from three days ago. You who he met at his usual drinking hole. You who had left him breathless. Joel had been drinking alone, the usual, when you and your friends drifted into the bar as an already half drunk mob. One of your guy friends had gotten rowdy near him, joking with another, and he bumped into Joel and spilled his entire whiskey.

Before he could even begin to lose his temper, you had swept in to save the day. It was obvious you were drunk yourself, but you cleaned him up, apologized for your friends, bought him a new drink, and just sat there and talked. You rambled about being in town to visit your family and catching up with old friends, and Joel found he could listen to you all day.

There was something magnetic about you.

Enough so, that he found himself following you down the road. You were driving toward the edge of town. Maybe to meet with friends at that new bar and drink some more. The roads grew less crowded as you got further out, and Joel thought about following you into the bar. Just to talk. It had been so long since he craved conversation of any kind. He realized though that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him. You were young and beautiful and clever. A ray of sunshine. Your options for company were endless and Joel couldn’t imagine being anywhere but at the bottom of that list. Drunk you had put up with him, but sober you probably wouldn’t spare him a glance.

Joel’s eyes darted to the passenger seat where his phone sat. A second passed, and a decision was made. He flashed his lights and laid on his horn. Your car slowed cautiously and he began to speed past you. He looked out his passenger window and the last thing he saw was your wide, confused and fearful eyes before he swerved into you.

He slammed on the breaks and watched your car flip a few times before coming to a stop at the edge of a ditch. Smoke billowed from the broken remains of your vehicle and Joel stared wide eyed at what he had just done. Guilt gnawed at him and he scrambled out of his truck to race to the driver’s side of the wreckage. You were hanging upside down from your seatbelt and blood dripped from a gash along your temple. A bruise was already forming at your hairline. But you were alive. Thank God. He hadn't even considered how wrong that could've gone. It seemed the universe was on his side for this.

Joel knew what he had done was wrong, but it was too late to go back.

He had made the decision⏤ your world ended and he’d be the one to build you something new.

[if you're curious the Ezra I mention is the Pedro Pascal character from Prospect (he just screams cult leader, doesn't he?) and i lowkey maybe have plans for a follow up on this but from the POV of a different reader and Ezra]

[archonsabyss]

╰─..✶. [ Our Little Family ]

❒ pairing: husband!kuroo x wife!fem!reader

❒ genre: fluff!

❒ warnings: established relationship! reader is showing (small baby bump)! mentions of vagina? Uhh idk what else lmk

❒ wc: 1.8k

𝗗𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆? (pt 1) | 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗞𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 (pt 3) | 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗔𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 (pt 4)

─❒ authors note: and dad kuroo continues.. Not proofread. Been in my drafts for a week bcz I had sm planned 4 it only I said said screw it & adjusted a few things. Not my best but it's something. I'm sick of keeping these things in my drafts because they're not done, knowing full well that they'll never be done with the way my mind works

Kuroo was staring.

He'd been staring ever since he abandoned looking for his charger to observantly glare at your body buried beneath the two layers of blankets.

Kuroo had developed a staring problem ever since his baby fever kicked in and even worse after you revealed the little secret you've been keeping. Learning of the tiny life form growing within your stomach, Kuroo was now keen on not missing even a second of the process. Quite literally every second.

Today was no exception. He awoke, rolled over in bed to face you, and slung his arm over your stomach as carefully as he could. When you eventually woke up and begged him to either get up with you or let you get up yourself, like a lost puppy he followed your every move. Walking with you into the bathroom and watching you as you brushed your teeth and cleaned up only to get back into bed.

His eyes followed your every move. The flexing of your fingers, the tilting of your head, the parting of your lips, and the lazy fluttering of your eyes. Kuroo was intent on grasping every motion.

After coming so far with the man you fell into step with his unrelenting gaze and learned to dismiss it knowing he didn't necessarily want something all the time. Though it was quite the challenge trying to decipher what gaze of his was demanding of something, and what gaze was just a simple gaze.

Somehow the hours flew by and Kuroo gave you space to breathe, letting himself get distracted by things around the house. Only it didn't last long as he ended up positioned on his knees on his side of the bed with his elbows digging into the mattress and his chin resting lazily in his palm, eyes drifting back and forth from your eyes to your stomach.

You were so deeply engrossed in your phone that his inquisitive stare went unnoticed until the long audible huffs of air heaved from his chest one after the other in an almost perfectly timed pattern.

Kuroo huffed. A few seconds later he repeated his action.

His attempt at getting your attention worked smoothly after the tenth time as you lowered your phone and glanced at him. Only your attention didn't stay on him long enough before you went back to your phone, so Kuroo resorted to climbing onto the bed and demanding you of your attention by shifting his body to press up against your side, and his head to rest on the pillow peaking out from behind you. He buried his nose into the material of your shirt and cuddled up to you as he's done a thousand times over.

"What's wrong this time, Tetsu," You asked softly, pulling the blanket away from his face and running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo slid his warm hands under your shirt and placed it against the small barely visible swelling of your stomach, and that in itself is an answer to his lingering stare.

"I put a baby in you" He thoughtlessly blurted out, eyes brimming with an innocent factor that made you bite back a hearty laugh.

Not denying the truth you nodded, "Yes. You did"

"I actually put a baby in you" He repeats sounding even more amazed by the fact.

"I put a ring on you and I put a baby in you"

"Tetsurou?" You furrowed your brows, smiling in minor confusion as Kuroo continued to mumble under his breath.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah perfect. Why'd you ask?" He blinked and you shrugged.

Kuroo finds himself slipping deeper into his trail of thoughts and you don't bother to stop him. You forget your phone and the book you were reading before getting distracted on your device and focus on the way your husband's hand is subconsciously slipping under your shirt and rubbing circles on your stomach.

"What do you think it is?"

Kuroo's ears immediately perk up at your question and is pulling his face away just enough for you to look at each other.

Excitement quickly seizes his body and you can feel it in the way his usually stiff neck and tense shoulders as of lately, relieve themselves of all its repressed burdens and deflate into the bed; into your hold, with ease.

"A girl and a boy!" He impulsively exclaims as if he'd been pondering the thought quite often; which he most certainly had. Often being beyond an understatement.

Kuroo is not surprised when your brows knit together and you're looking at him as if he was insane.

You didn't oppose the idea of twins, however, you did fear the process of birthing them and that caused you to sober.

"I want a whole army of little demons to terrorize our extended family" He grins cheerfully.

"I'd for sure train one to steal Kenmas video games when I'm not around. God knows I need all the help I can get with that child. I'll need one to bully Atsumu. One to hover around Tsuki and piss him off while I record the entire thing. One would be my littlest carbon copy and inherit all my amazing good looks and personality and taunt people for the hell of it. Another would be your carbon copy but a total daddy's girl, have me wrapped around her tiny fingers just like her mama... And─"

"And that sounds adorable" You shush him, "But you're getting ahead of yourself, Kuroo. Let me push this one out first before you start planning my vagina's destruction"

"When you put it like that I kinda sound like an inconsiderate douche who's neglecting his wife's beautiful body and incredibly delicate mindset" He grumbled with a pout, pushing himself to lay on top of you, careful to not squish your baby bump.

"....You are"

"Am not"

"...."

silence

"Am I really?" He mumbled with round innocent eyes peering up at you knowing it was your weakness.

Kuroo shifts, lifting his body off the bed and hovering over you. His hands pressing into the headboard beside your head.

"Yeah, you're right, you're not... usually"

"Funny" He mutters with a roll of his eyes as he scoots down to bury his face between your breasts. Instinctly your fingers comb through his hair and your nails are running smoothly along his scalp, occasionally tugging pieces of his hair that were tangled in the process.

Kuroo moves down lower until his face is in line with your stomach and presses a light kiss to its covered front.

"Your mama's a real meanie, you know that? You agree with me don't you baby girl, you'd love another sibling won't ya? Such a shame Mama said no, what a bore"

The steady vibration of your chest beneath him as your laughter resonates in his ears has him grinning ear to ear. Kuroo can't contain the complacent grin etched onto his face and the way his heart leaps and flutters in absolute awe as he manages to bring out your smile and laughter.

"So... Baby girl, huh" You mused.

"Yes. Daddy's little girl" He says proudly.

"I wouldn't want to be there if it proves otherwise and it's not your baby girl but a baby boy instead"

"Hush, wife. It's a girl"

"And if it's not?" You chewed on your bottom lip which Kuroo spontaneously decides to tug free with his thumb and lean up to give it a short lewd kiss; his lips moulding gently around the plush of your bottom one and holding it captive between his teeth. He nibbles at it while muffling out incoherent sentences that you don't try to make sense of.

"Then it's a boy" He brazenly dismisses, admiring the subtle swelling of your bottom lip.

Kuroo refocuses his attention on his 'little girl', lifting your shirt above your stomach before peppering the skin with heartfelt kisses. Each one is warm and sensitive and filled with no less love than the one before it. And you have to physically restrain yourself from squirming due to the slight ticklish sensation it causes.

"And if it does turn out to be a girl then we'll just have to make a boy next time and vice versa"

"You're really pushing this little army agenda, aren't you"

Kuroo pauses. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a blank look that you're unable to interpret.

"Mostly" He answered. "I do hope to have a big family with you. But that all depends on you, my beautiful wife. It's your body... Just as it is mine" He whispered the last part suggestively and you don't refute; not entirely disagreeing with him. After all, no one has loved your body through its best and through its worst with its every flaw and insecurity, as he has.

"I hope you know I'll support any and every decision you make. Giving me this one here─" He gestured to his hand resting on your stomach, "is more than enough. If my teasing is getting too much for you and you feel pressured, then you gotta let me know baby girl. Because the last thing I wanna do is force you into something you aren't ready for or don't want"

"Mhm," You hummed thoughtfully, placing your hands on the back of his head and lightly pulling it down to lay on your stomach. Kuroo doesn't oppose your actions and simply follows along.

"Birth is scary" You confess. "That's the part that scares me. I want as many children as my body and sanity will allow me to have! But there's so much more to consider ya know? Like this is going to be our first baby and I'm thrilled but also terrified out of my mind fearing the worst" You wheezed with a loss of air after the words just began to spew from your mouth.

It's Kuroo's chance to laugh and your chance to feel as his chest shakes.

He shifts his weight onto his knees and uses his hands to cup your face, hushing your shortened breaths and heaving body.

"You're fine" He assured with a subtle nudge of his nose against yours. "There'll always be more to consider. But you know me, beautiful. And you know that I'm gonna be here every step of the way"

"I'm going to take care of you and our kid" He promised, heart pulsating steadily as he holds you.

"It's going to be our child and it'll be our family. You, me, and the baby. We'll take it as it comes alright. One day at a time, together, yeah?"

Your arms encircle his neck and you pull him closer. "Mhm"

"Love you baby girl" Kuroo whispers with a smile as he draws circles on your cheek with his thumb.

"Love you more"

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations! // All credits to original owners of characters/anime and pictures that are not my own!

[heartthrobin]

catch me if you can

hobie brown x female!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a questionable attempt at british slang, Miles' pov (it makes sense i promise), established relationship, Miles is a little baby boy angel, implied chubby/thick reader, Miles' 'jealous of Hobie' dynamic

an: this idea popped into my brain as i was trying to sleep last night so here it is :) it's actually funny cause i'm a hobie brown girl first and human second but have been working on so much miguel content. go figure. remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers :) THIS IS A REPOST! i woke up this morning and the original post literally disappeared from my page :( sorry y'all

summary: you and Hobie are absolutely incorrigible.

Miles didn't like the sound of Hobie Brown.

and now that he's faced with the man in question, he doesn't particularly like the sight of him either.

the spider-society foyer is a menagerie of characters, different suits and capes and hairstyles and --horses? but Miles can't move his line of sight off Hobie's back where he just bumped his too tall frame against Gwen's much shorter one.

she stumbles sideways and laughs, and Miles wants to throw a fit right there.

Hobie stops walking. his figure tightens and his shoulders draw up.

Miles frowns in confusion and follows his gaze.

under the archway of the door towards where he assumes is this Tio Miguel's office stands some spider-women, three in varying outfits.

there's one in a forest green suit, your eyes have found Hobie's. they're wide, round in something Miles can place most akin to fear.

you're beautiful, he can tell that easily: all full-bodied around the edges and soft in the face.

you surprise him when you turn on your heel, running out only three wide steps before spitting out a web onto the nearest ledge of those that lingered above his head and hoisting yourself up.

the green suit blurs, swinging over hundreds of spider-people and you glance back over your shoulder in panic.

more surprising than that, Miles finds that Hobie is chasing you.

his long thin legs stride down the walkway, abandoning Gwen when he too sends a thick white web at a tall pillar and flies across the foyer. he sticks to another dais and climbs wildly along walls after your escaping figure.

Miles jaw is loose, face dripping in concern.

somewhere behind him Jessica sighs. "those two are incorrigible."

his head is flicking back and forth between his companions, unsure if he's the only one who can see what's unfolding. your figure is climbing desperately up the side of the wide window, you're fast but Hobie is gaining ground.

Gwen and Pavitr are walking still ahead of him, arms swinging by their sides. he steps quickly, eyes never leaving the chase in the air.

"is nobody seeing this?" Miles' hands motion up to the air, they're frantic. "Hobie is chasing s-some ... poor woman!"

glancing back over her shoulder, Gwen's eyes finding the two colourful blurs, she draws to a halt. "i guess we should wait for them. they're so annoying sometimes."

Pavitr's head lolls to the side, an endeared expression twisting into his face. "i think they're adorable."

your grunts can still be heard echoing down the chamber, Hobie's too. you yelp as Hobie just misses your leg, escaping his clutch by swinging low over a random spider's head. the spider grumbles up at you.

"he's ..." Miles shakes his head, fingertips twitching against his web shooter. "is nobody gonna help her? i-i'm gonna help--"

"help?" Gwen and Pavitr were looking at him like he'd grown a second head.

there's a sharp shriek from above, he finds you mid-air. a wide web has enclosed over your shoulders, locking your arms against your side and you're hoisted back against Hobie where he's perched along a wall.

Miles hand jumps up to web his way to you when Gwen's hand closes over his wrist. she just shakes her head at him. "chill, Miles."

he looks back up.

you crash against Hobie's chest with enough force to jostle him off the wall. your joined figures slide down the side of the wall to land a few feet from where Miles stands.

your shoulders are shaking. if you weren't so low on the ground, he might not have recognised that you were ... laughing?

"got'cha, luv."

Hobie's forehead meets yours gently. you wriggle in the webbing that's bound you.

"took you longer than this morning." your voice crumbles out between giggles.

a ring-clad hand finds your chin, tilting your face against his. you press up on tippy-toes, teetering like you're drunk with his kiss. Hobie's hand is creeping over your waist and dipping you backwards under the influence of his height.

"i mean, we've barely been gone a couple hours." Gwen mutters at the sight. Pavitr is holding his hands up to his chest and lets out a soft "they're so cute."

confusion is still tugging on Miles' mind but it's drowned by the waves of relief coursing like coffee down his gullet and warming his stomach.

"they ... they do this often?" he asks tentatively.

"every damn day."

his gaze flickers between Hobie and Gwen. "so they're ... dating?"

Pavitr nods. "Hobie doesn't like labels. but pretty much."

"so," he is feigning nonchalance as far as he can carry it. he speaks at Gwen. "you and him ... you're not--?"

she's affronted. "me and Hobie?"

Pavitr is laughing.

"no!" she clarifies, clearly put out. "that's so weird ..."

Miles is practically blind with relief.

you've clearly been detangled from Hobie's webs when you bounce over to where Miles is standing amongst the others.

"Gwendoline!" your voice is light and animated, you're panting slightly from your chase.

Gwen grumbles like she hates the name, but smiles sideways under the weight of your hand ruffling her hair. you bump into Pavitr's side and he greets too.

they smile like they love you.

your eyes find him. "you must be Miles!"

he discovers you're as keen on physical touch as your boyfriend, hoisting him tightly against your chest before pulling back: holding him at arm's length to examine him.

"you're taller than I thought you'd be."

"you should see mans fly, babe," Hobie's hands slink into his jacket pockets. Miles thinks he's referring to him. "wicked with the webs, i tell ya'."

he blushes at the compliment. you're smiling at him like you're proud. "oh, yeah? maybe boss will put us on a mission together and i can check these moves, hey Morales?"

Miles nods. "sure."

you let go of his shoulders, eyes finding your boyfriend's.

skipping ahead of the kids, your hand slips into Hobie's and he leans down to kiss your temple. "how was your day, rockstar?" he hears you ask.

Gwen slides in beside Miles. they start walking again and she smiles at him.

he returns it. ahead of him, you're teetering on your toes so you're walking completely pressed against the side of your boyfriend.

Miles finds that maybe he doesn't dislike Hobie as much as he thought.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@iximis @kristarose18 @everything-moa @roxannedaybreakermidnight @sleepyisy @blogtheanonymouse88 @artsimatsu @moccas-posts @champagnelovers101 @rasasvavda @slvrtty @thebitchinyourmind @kre3ce @felciasblog @dolores-kafka @lipstickghoulie @actuallyitskal @xxa-rora @idontevenknow556-blog @teancloud @n00v4 @arty546 @idkchuuu @iriiak-kaiiri @fruitypebblesstuff @heartbuckles @ete3rnal @cessakk @lilylamps @natsuwife @angelbunnyboo @hakudaru @rapmonwoozi-blog @yukk0rz-blog @pengaserma @silverwareq @darkdakota8998 @emotionalasf @hiheyhiheyhih @daughterofapollo-7 @frogsandhomicidalducks @wyldeflovver @premiumsaltinecrackers @divinerin @belos-simp69 @typicalsimpsstuff @gigiisbest @chidorichild @lqveharrington @chasingbuckybeans @totallynotawes @lavishzx @goinghamsamwich @naughtyslashers @witch-works @hystericalcannibal @mcuslut @bringontheweirdworld @winkawonkas @intherowangroves @lavnderluv @sweetlovins @void-pyro @cecilsrandomeverything @snowflxke @rockabieesstuff @rin-tesoro @finchshr00mz @lowkey357 @arainbowteddybear @xxthebangmasterxx @hauntedtacoeggpainter-blog @feather-of-the-moon @calamaarii @miss-megan @autumn-hiraeth @heyyo-peeps @drac3lara

[lousypotatoes]

I'm Laughin' The Clouds

Song Recommendation:

Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Present....

The room was deathly quiet for a few moments.

Then all of a sudden, Alastor picked Y/N up and spun her around.

"Oh my stars!" he said, putting her down. "It's so wonderful to see you again, my dear!"

"Oh Alastor," she gushed. "I never thought I would see you again."

"As did I!"

"Woah hold the fuck on," Husk blurted out. "How do ya'll know each other?"

"They're both Overlords, obviously," Vaggie said.

"Not all Overlords know each other by name," Y/N explained. "We knew each other when we were alive."

"How did a sweetheart like you end up in Hell?" Alastor asked.

"That's a story for another time," she waved it off. "I could ask the same thing about you, Al."

Everyone else in the Hotel stayed in a stunned silence, watching Alastor and Y/N interact.

"Alas, I'd love to stay and catch up more," Alastor said, twirling his cane around. "But unfortunately, I have some work to do regarding the Hotel. Perhaps we can chat later?"

"I look forward to it,"

"Splendid!" Alastor exclaimed, taking Y/N's hand and kissing her knuckles. "Until then, my dear."

Alastor then melted into the shadows.

She stood there, blushing at the contact they had.

"Sooo, Y/N and Smiles, getting it onnn~" Angel said, thrusting the air.

"You are so gross, Angel," Vaggie said, rubbing her forehead.

"This is so cool!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping. "I didn't know Alastor had any other friends!"

"Yeah," she said awkwardly. "Um- can you show me to my room now Char-"

"Don't try to change the subject baby," Angel interrupted. "I wanna know how exactly you two know each other~"

"Hey, If Y/N doesn't wanna tell us, that's perfectly fine," Charlie said, grabbing onto Y/N's shoulders. "C'mon Y/N, I'll show you to your room."

The room was small but cozy. Snapping her fingers, all of her furniture, plus her dog, appeared in the room, everything all set up.

Your dog woke up, curious to where she was, she started barking.

"Calm down Honey," Y/N said, stroking her head. "We'll be stayin' here for a while."

Y/N sat down on her bed, thinking about the day's events.

What did Alastor do to get sent down to Hell? He was the sweetest man when they were alive, she was devasted when she got the call that Alastor had been shot by a hunter.

It had been a few days since Y/N had arrived at the hotel. She had barely seen Alastor around. She was wondering if he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him. Charlie and Y/N both decided that she would be the assistant facility manger, the assistant to Alastor.

"Sorry ma'am but I only kill people in Hell," she said into the phone, pacing her room.

"How do you even kill down here?" the person asked. "You do know that Sinners can respawn right?"

"Yes ma'am, I know Sinners can respawn," she said, getting annoyed. "That's why I use angelic weapons."

"Why don't you kill you on Earth?"

"Are you stupid or retarded?" she said, starting to get mad. "Sinners can't travel to Earth. But I can recommend you to some friends of mine who can actually travel to Earth."

"But you're an Overlord, how come you can't travel to Earth?"

"Lady, I swear to fuckin' god, just shut the fuck up," she snarled into the phone.

"You don't have the right to talk to me like that!" the lady on the side of the phone screamed.

"Do you know who I am?!" Y/N growled, her wings unfurling and her claws coming out. "I'm goin' to find you, and when I do, I'm gonna gut you like a pig and eat your organs while you're still alive."

Suddenly, there was knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, as calmly she could, quickly hanging up the phone and retracting her wings and claws.

The door opened and Alastor stepped into the room.

"Is everything alright, my dear?" he asked, his smile widening when he saw her. "I heard quite the commotion in here."

"Yes, I'm fine," Y/N said, attempting to calm herself down. "Is there somethin' I could help you with?"

"Seeing as you're my assistant," he began. "I need you to help me create a commercial."

"Oh yeah, of course," she said. "When?"

"Right now,"

"Oh well um," she stuttered. "I was kind of in the middle of somethin' before you came in here."

"Oh yes," Alastor said, bending down, so that their faces were inches apart. "I believe your exact words were 'gut you like a pig and eat your organs.'"

"You were listenin' to my conversation?" she huffed, blush creeping on her face.

"It's hard not to when you're screaming, dear." he said, chuckling.

"Fine," she muttered.

"Splendid!" he said, straightening up. "This will give us the perfect opportunity to catch up!"

"Can't wait," she said, as the two of them walked out of her room.

"Where exactly are we goin'?" she asked as they walked around Pentagram City.

"We're looking for the perfect place to shoot our first scene," he said. "Now tell me, dear, how in the world did someone like you end up down here?"

"I uh-" she said, trying to look for the words. "People hired me to kill for them,"

Alastor's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yeah," she laughed awkwardly. "Remember when the mayor got shot in the head at the openin' of that new hospital?"

"That was you?"

She sheepishly nodded "Yup,"

"You caused quite the scandal, Y/N," Alastor complimented. "I'm impressed.

"Why thank you," she grinned. "Why are you down here, Al?"

"Same as you," he said simply. "Only I didn't kill people for money,"

"You hid that fact really well, then" she giggled.

"I could say the same for you, darling,"

"Oh look!" she said, pointing at a bunch of demons fighting. "We could shoot over there,"

"That's perfect!" Alastor said. "You have really good eyes, my dear,"

"That's part of being a falcon demon," she laughed.

After getting the camera shot, the two of them headed back to the hotel.

"I'm not used to walkin' places," she said, stretching out her wings. "I'm so used to flyin' everywhere."

"I can tell," Alastor laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean, Al?" she laughed, hitting his arm.

"Nothing, nothing," Alastor chuckled.

"Still full of mysteries, I see,"

"Oh, you have have no idea, darling,"

"If I may," she began, "Where were you those seven years?"

"Like you said earlier dear, that's a story for another time,"

"How much more footage do we need?" she asked as they made their way up the hill that led to the Hotel.

"Not too much more," he said. "Just some shots of the Hotel."

"Hey, after we finish shootin' for the commercial," she said, blushing, her wings fluttering behind her. "Do you maybe wanna maybe get a drink and talk more?"

"It would be my pleasure, dear,"

sorry that this one is longer than the other ones, I got too carried away with the writing.

i wonder what it would be like to be an Overlord.

remember to stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant @leviwife1

[spiralingemptyness]

Clone wars hc

Been lurking on tumblr for a bit (while) and decided to throw my own clone wars hc cause the hyperfixation be hyper fixated (sorry for any spelling errors).

Kit Fisto and Obi-Wan are bffs - They both lose their robes and seem to flirt with anything that walks. meaning they have get togethers and give each other flirting advice.

Jocasta Nu and Admrial Yularen are BAMF, and are severly underrated. you don't get away with hurting someone they care about unpunished.

Rex's first thought of ashoka was "that's a child" followed by "that's a child on a battle field" and then "that's a child on a battle field with no clothes, what the kark".

One of the shinies from Monnk's battalion definitely asked Fisto (while high on pain meds) if he lactates and monnk and fisto lost their shit and couldn't stop laughing for 5 min straight.

Kix (and other medics by default) have tranq/hypo guns for any vode or jedi that try to leave med bay when on bed rest.

Fox and Amidala gossip and constantly talks shit about Palpatine

Kit Fisto Smile Supremacy, this man win's best smile, it never fails to cheer someone up.

Rex definitely twirls his guns before putting them in his holsters when he's done using them

Bly is obviously in love with Aayla, and he tries to hide it (and fails miserably) but he's so respectful about loving her and swooning, that Quinlan couldn't even give him a shovel talk.

the clones were absolutely baffled when they met the jedi's

Wolffe and Fox are twins, they might be at each others throats 90% of the time, but if you talk shit about the one of them, the other won't hesitate to beat your ass.

Monnk says the most off handed shit in a dead pan tone (ex. Monnk: well I'm not gonna live, laugh, love this. Fisto, laughing his ass off: I-I'm Sorry? Monnk: I'm just saying this is gonna be a bitch)

Plo Koon is Plo Buir, He's at least adopted the Wolf Pack and Ashoka

the 501st and Ashoka are siblings

Grey adopted Caleb Dume

The Iron Battalion/13th battalion took one look at Cal and immediately adopted him

Ponds isn't dead (cause fuck canon), he found Boba before his schemes could go off and made him a deal, He helps Boba plan the assassination attempts on Windu (he trust his general won't die, but he gave him more headaches) so there's no casualties, but slowly the attempts stop and now Boba just lives in the 91st venator's vents.

The first time Cody picked up Obi-Wan's lightsaber he thought it was so cool, and now he just wants to glue the damn thing into his hand

Hound spoils Grizzer, he absolutely adores the massif

Jesse make sure Kix is actually taking care of himself, and make sure he's not over working (and when necessary, he uses a hypo to make sure Kix sleeps, cause Kix will hold that over his head and pay him back for it)

Fox and Thorn are opposites but they are really close

The corrie guard has a list of all the good and bad senators

The most forms that Monnk and Cody (and occasionally Ponds) fill out are forms for more robes

Cody's name is Kote (but goes by Cody cause so many nat borns mispronounce it) and Obi-Wan randomly asked if that was his name, and Cody was just utterly shocked

After Umbara, Fox say a very traumatized trooper (it's Dogma) who is facing shitty consequences for doing the right thing and adopts him into the guard

After Kix woke up from his stasis and found artoo's (again, fuck canon) he would stay up on nights he couldn't sleep and watch videos of him and his vode from artoo's memory bank

Clones using their Jedi's lightsaber - Cody using Kenobi's lightsaber after he loses it for the millionth time, Rex using it to back ventress away from ashoka, Fox finding quinlan's in a dumpster (with quinlan in said dumpster)

Hound let's grizzer purposely tackle people when he can easily apprehend them because it's funny or because whoever he's chasing pissed him off and he's petty

Yoda is the ultimate menace (like srs palpitine hates his ass, but yoda -and everyone else- hates him even more)

Yoda still keeps in touch with Rys, Jek, and Thire (mainly Thire) after the treaty or smth

The Corrie found Quinlan Vos in a dumpster and now he won't stop bugging them (expecially Fox)

Fox is a walking encyclopedia of every republic laws, you do one minor thing wrong and he can quote every law you broke, word to word

A trooper (let's call him Sharks) from Fisto and Monnk's battalion can just get a group of sharks to gather around, at every planet, every time, without fail

Plo's disappointed dad sigh can make a separatist army fold into defeat

Kenobi absolutely loathes caf, he hates it with a passion

Each high ranking clone officer has to deal with something of their jedi - Cody has to deal with Kenobi flirting with seperatist and losing his lightsaber, Rex has to deal with his general constantly crashing ships, his batshit crazy plans and his general continuously using the force to throw him, Monnk has to deal with his general randomly "shedding" clothes, and all the clones have to deal with their generals and commanders not wearing armor (Except for Jaro Tapal, HE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO WEARS ARMOR)

Corrie Guard can sleep standing up, very useful when guarding in the pods during senate meetings

The nice Senators (mainly Chuichi, Amidala, and Organa) and Vos very often get things for the Coruscant Guards, and whenever the guard see's the gifts they are baffled and bamboozled

Rex called dibs on Domino squad after the moon mission

Echo and Fives without hesitation took Tup and Dogma under their wing

Fives, Hardcase and Jesse started a prank war in the 501st that accidently evolved into a GAR wide prank war (with Coruscant being neutral ground, cause the guard doesn't need to deal with that shit, doesn't mean they don't help out)

Fox holds ALL the blackmail, and has multiple informants in every battalion, plus he has the power to withhold caf shipments

Fox also regularly reads his batchmates mission reports to mae sure their ok

The Corrie guard accidently adopted a stray tooka and a loth cat, now they're the guards emotional support animals

Rex keeps complaining about his brothers flirting with their jedi's that he didn't even realized that he third wheeled between Anakin and Padme that he joined their relationship

every mothers or fathers day without fail, shaak ti and plo koon always gets presents and gifts from their children (troopers and cadets.... and ashoka)

Coric is Kix's Ori'vod, he didn't admit it at first but Kix grew on him and well medics stay togeth

Coric purposely avoided being CMO of the 501st because they are hellions, Kix wanted to strangle him after he realized what being CMO of the 501st meant

Rex was on the 212th with Cody when Anakin was still a padawan

Rex hates evals, natural blonde plus Kamino is a recipe for hell. Also he was shocked at Skywalker being nonchalant about his hair, Anakin just though it made him cooler

That's all I have for now, if you see any you've seen before my bad, I honestly just typed the first that came to mind and kinda spiraled from there. I'm just now starting to interact with tumblr, so I might upload more and maybe even some art if I can stay focused long enough.

[sitp-recs]

15 Christmassy fics to read (or reread) this month

This rec list is for @annakendricks who sent an ask about Christmas reads and also dedicated to @lettersbyelise for supporting this idea 💜 Despite the winter blues, December will always lighten up my mood with the holiday spirit. This month has been pretty hectic for me but I can’t wait to get some time off and indulge my fave Christmassy rereads. Come and join me if you like! Here you’ll find a little bit of everything: soft and contemplative, smutty, crack-y, movie AU, holiday romance and even Gen fic, which is not my usual fare but fit the theme perfectly. Pick your flavour and Happy Holidays!

🎄A Christmas Happenstance by Only_1_Truth (E, 5.5k)

The Hogwarts School for the Gifted and Supernatural had classes year-round, but the dormitories emptied out regularly on holidays as if the students were suddenly becoming allergic to the walls. Both humans and non-humans mingled freely in the surrounding town of Hogsmeade. Draco Malfoy, however, isn't feeling in the mood after a rather spectacular break-up.

🎄A Charitable Christmas by Alisanne (E, 5.6k)

Hermione’s plans to raise money for war orphans do not meet with Harry’s approval. Fortunately, Draco steps in to help him come up with a much more enjoyable strategy.

🎄A Hippogriff for Christmas by @xanthippe74 (G, 6.4k)

Draco is desperately trying to fulfill four-year-old Scorpius’ dearest wish for Christmas: a visit with a real Hippogriff. Harry is desperately trying to be left alone, safely tucked away from the attention of the wizarding world as Hogwarts’ Keeper of the Keys and Grounds.

🎄Surviving the Horde by FleetofShippyShips (T, 7k)

Draco has managed to avoid Christmas at the Burrow for ten years, but not this year.

🎄Tidings of Comfort by @blamebrampton (G, 10k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

🎄Love, Actually, is All Around by @punk-rock-yuppie (T, 10k)

It's Christmastime, and Harry has just started as the new Minister of Magic. It just so happens that Draco works in his office as well, a holdover from Kingsley's tenure. Naturally, love is in the air.

🎄break the bad luck in my life by seaworn (E, 12k)

Draco and Harry are both brooding on Christmas Eve.

🎄All Roads Lead Home by @dracogotgame (G, 15k)

Draco is strong-armed into spending the first Christmas after the War with the Weasleys. And Harry Potter.

🎄Love All Lovely by @shealwaysreads (T, 19k)

Draco comes home for Christmas, and discovers that sharing is the best way of celebrating old traditions, and new ones too.

🎄Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

🎄I'll Floo Home for Christmas by jadepresley (T, 39k)

The Ministry Christmas party is the biggest event of the year and Harry absolutely does not want to plan it, and he certainly, one hundred percent, does not have a crush on Draco Malfoy.

🎄The Romantic Prawn Who Loved Christmas by @bixgirl1 (E, 39k)

When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess. What comes as a complete shock are Potter's other activities...And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him.

🎄December Never Felt So Wrong by @maesterchill (E, 50k)

'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side. All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there.

🎄A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit.

🎄All Must Draw Near by Saras_Girl (M, 61k)

Harry doesn't have time for rumours; he has a shop to run. Which is just as well, really.

[oldstateofmind]

nobody else can heal it (but you) [part l]

➜ pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader ➜ warnings: spoilers from ATSV, a bit of angst cause i’m human, violence, torture, hanahaki disease but make it nightmares instead. english is not my first language. ➜ words: 4.3k ➜ a/n:  I’ve watched this movie 3 times by now because I’m obsessed with Miguel. His character is so interesting and captivating, he’s so grumpy and sad and that just makes me wanna fix him. Ugh, I have a soft spot for anti-heroes. And being voiced by Oscar Isaac is the icing on the cake. This first part sets the tone because I just can’t jump straight to smut, but I promise I’ll compensate next chapter.

chapter l. bad disease

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Ao3

l.

It starts with a hiss; then a shadow moving in the corner of your vision.

In the dark, cold envelops your body; chilling to the bone. It’s awfully quiet besides the continuous dripping of water in the distance, the echoes of each drop remind you of a ticking clock; counting the time you’ve left – for what, however, you’re not really sure.

You rub your arms in an attempt to bring a bit of warmth back to your skin, and as always, it’s useless. It seems like a forever winter inside the place you’ve found yourself in for the past 2 weeks. 

What once started as a nightmare that made you wake up in the middle of the night, now plagues your mind every time you close your eyes. There’s no escape from it, no matter how hard you try. You’re more than tired, it’s exhausting not getting more than 3 hours of sleep when your job requires attention and disposition.

Even the pills Lyla gave you last time you were at the HQ didn’t work – actually, they made it even worse. Because then, your body was completely knocked out while your mind was terribly awake, reliving the scene over and over again. You threw them down the drain once you woke up. Never again.

And even though you already know what happens by now, it is still dreadful to wait for the nightmare to unfound. Your senses are hyper-aware of every single tiny sound, every movement in the dark. 

There’s something poetic in the way you can feel him move even with your eyes closed; the way you could recognize the pattern of his breathing in the distance even when fear creeps into your brain. Your spider-sense tingles as his heavy steps are headed toward you, it screams danger. Goosebumps break out across your body, sending a small, cold shiver through your spine. 

Red is the first thing you see. And also the last.

-

“...to Y/N.” Someone is calling you in the distance, but the hazy feeling of the nightmare still lingers within you. It’s hard to focus when your brain still hasn’t turned off properly for weeks, still trapped in whatever curse this is.

“Earth to Y/N, is anyone there?” There’s a snap in front of your eyes, and you suddenly flinch with the unexpected sound. The touch on your shoulder grounds you a bit.

You blink your eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to brush off the dreadful feeling still creeping into the back of your mind. As your eyes adjust to reality, Gwen’s face is filled with concern.

“I’m sorry, guys.” It’s the only thing you manage to say, how could you possibly begin to explain what’s been happening?

“You’ve lost your cue twice now, what’s happening with you today?” The girl presses, still holding onto your shoulder. And for that, you’re grateful. 

Not getting enough sleep has been causing you to lose grip on reality – and that scares you the most. Not being able to tell if the sounds are coming from your head or from somewhere else. Or worse, having to avoid him because it’s unbearable the feeling that eats you from the inside out; the sense of fight or flight kicking in every time you hear his voice. Not tolerating being in his company as shadows follow you around like a ghost, tormenting you into remembering.

And it’s just not fair. 

“Nothing!” You say, adjusting the bass strap on your shoulder. Hesitating on letting you go, Gwen squeezes your arm before retracting her hand. You try to smile, “I’m good. I…I’m good.”

The smile stretched for too long, awkwardly pulling your face into a grin rather than a genuine beam. The avoidance of looking at the member of the band doesn’t really back you up on your lies. You hear Hobie huff in annoyance, while Gwen’s piercing gaze still hasn’t left your face. You feel slightly guilty about keeping your nightmares a secret, but it’s not like they would understand, would they?

After all, Miguel O’Hara was a difficult subject for you to talk about.

“I know that look, I have seen it in the mirror quite a few times,” The girl admits. And you knew it was true.

When Gwen joined the Spider Society just a few months ago, the melancholy gloom that followed her was palpable. The teary eyes whenever someone asked about her life, the avoidance of returning to her world, always crashing at yours or Hobie’s. Her father was a tough subject on which she never really dwelled, too painful to remember.  

However, even if she could relate to the feeling of losing sleep over someone, she wouldn’t understand how it felt to be torn apart by your own brain, to have precious memories distorted in a sick and twisted nightmare that was a culmination of your worst fears. To know it was coming and having no power to stop it. And all the while having the face of the person you cared about the most in the world, in all universes.

No, no one could begin to understand. 

You bit your lips, signing in defeat, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“That’s rubbish. Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?” Hobie chimes in, crossing his arms over his chest. He raises his eyebrow, seeing through your facade without breaking a sweat.

“You’re not even glowing like you usually do!” Pavitr shouts from the audience, waving his hand toward you. Sometimes he would come by to watch the band practice, but today you had not even seen him coming, which was a terrible sign because Pavitr always made an entrance when he stopped by.

“I thought you would be grateful for that.” You scoff.

“Hey, you can’t blame me! My eyes are sensitive.”

The typical headache starts to pound in your head like a thousand bells ringing directly in your ear. It’s disorientating the way your senses feel out of place – like a fish out of the water. Not even having superpowers was helping you stay afloat. 

You took pride in being a Spider Woman, doing your job as best as you could so that at the end of the day, Miguel would see you. Your talent, your dedication. But lately, you feel yourself falling further down in his list. And it hurts.

“It’s just that–” You sigh, rubbing your eyes again, foolishly trying to make the pain go away. The ache in your head was bad, but the one in your heart could bring you to your knees. “I’m not getting much sleep these last few weeks.”

Gwen snaps her fingers excitedly, “You should try one of those pills they hand over at the–” 

“No!” You shout before you can stop yourself; memories flood your troubled mind. The blood, the screams. Talons ripping flesh, pain consuming your body and soul. But the worst of all; his words. Gwen stops in her tracks, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. The guilty eat you away. 

“I mean, I–I’ve tried it,” You whisper, the lump forming in your throat makes it hard to say a single word, “but they… didn’t work for me.” 

The trembling of your hands caught everyone’s attention. And It’s just too much.

“I’m sorry.” Whispering, you turn around to hide your face. You take the bass strap from your shoulder and place the instrument in its case. “Let’s just wrap this up, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.”

“Oi, Y/N,” Hobie calls for you, but you’re already grabbing your coat and heading toward the door. “We are here to help you, it’s what a band is about, innit?” 

You look over your shoulder at them, heart aching at the thought of leaving them with no explanation – as a frightened animal, cornered with nowhere to run, all bite and no apologies.

“Right,” You agree but vanish in thin air seconds later.

ll.

Time becomes its own entity when you lose track of it. It’s another late hour, probably somewhere between 3 AM, and the coffee you got from your favorite spot in town is hot against your cold fingers. You dangle your feet at the edge of a building, admiring the view of a sleepy neighbor – no matter the time, New York is always full of light. 

It’s been a few days since you left the rehearsal in a hurry, the band has been trying to get in touch with you but you’ve been avoiding taking their calls and answering their texts – you’ve been avoiding a lot of things lately. 

Like swinging in the middle of the traffic, as an example. Something that came naturally, but now it has become too dangerous. The notion of space and distance have been lost days ago together with the full awareness of your surroundings. You’ve been trying to do your job, but it has become almost impossible to pay attention to your movements when the heaviness of your limbs begs for you to slow down.

There’s also Lyla, who you've lost count of how many times she chimed in while you were working, telling you about a meeting that you had missed out on. Not that it was totally required to be there, but if once you counted the days to be in the same room as Miguel, just so you could see him, now you avoided it like the plague. 

You haven’t heard from him ever since you disappeared – only stopping by the HQ when extremely necessary – so you might not be in that much trouble. However, it definitely did some heavy damage to your heart noticing how O’Hara didn’t really need or wanted to see you in the first place. Not even a call, not even a message.

And that was devastating. 

For too long, you've been yearning for Miguel; only to be trapped in an endless nightmare. While awake, you had to live with the fact that he was out of reach – tearing your soul apart. While sleeping, violence and death had his face – tearing your whole being apart. No matter when or where; you were maimed by the same man.

Blowing out your coffee, you sigh. The lack of sleep has been taking a toll on you. It started off as simply missing the timing from one building to another, and now you can feel the nasty bruise forming on the side of your hip. Actually, your body now looks like it has been painted black and blue with the number of bruises it’s collecting. 

And you still can’t find the answer, nor any clue on how to make them go away. It will kill you eventually, you’re sure of that. It was just a matter of time now. Maybe then you could finally rest.

The bitter taste of the coffee spreads in your tongue and you welcome the caffeine with open arms. You’ve been trying to stay awake for the most part of the day, only hitting the bed when you’re completely and absolutely worn out. It does give you a few more minutes, but as the sun comes down and another moon appears, you can feel yourself slipping away, getting fewer and fewer hours of sleep, and slowly descending to madness as the nightmares start to feel more vivid, clouding your judgment.

Maybe you should ask for help, after all. 

As a result of a very slow mind, it takes you more than it should to sense a new presence on the rooftop with you. Startled, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You quickly throw away the coffee, lamenting not being able to finish it. 

You pull your mask down; if it was another one of those villains of the week the guy was fucked because you had run out of patience. “Honestly, I’m in a really bad mood today,” You say to whoever is hiding in the shadows, your senses tingling as the figure slowly walks towards you, “No tricks, please. Let’s do this quickly.” 

The movement stops, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Another guy who thinks that making a scary little entrance will impress you. You’re about to make a joke when the shadow speaks, making your heart stop for a second.

“Y/N.”

The cold creeps in underneath the flesh, freezing your blood and yourself in place. All the hair in your body stands up as your body tenses with trepidation and fear. There it was again, that voice that haunts you night and day. 

No, please. I’m awake, aren't I?”

It was hard to tell, as your surrounding started to blur; the sound of the street and surroundings go silent, as the only focus of your mind is the man in front of you and the way his eyes glow scarlet against the dark of the night. Your heart hammers your chest so furiously you’re afraid it might break free. 

“Y/N.” 

Miguel calls out for you again, his tone nothing more than a whisper. But you have seen this scene before; a hundred times you’ve heard those same words roll out of his tongue as if it disgusted him – as if you didn’t deserve to be mentioned it.

You flinch as he steps forward, memories of talons ripping your skin apart make you fight against the rising panic; the outcome of the nightmare is inevitable, you’ve tried to change it, but the aftermath was always the same; killed by the man you loved the most.

“Stay away from me,” You warned him. It was useless when fate seemed to have your lines already written, with no chance to change the full stop by a coma. “Please, stay away from me.”

Miguel stops, the glowing of his suit hurts your eyes. You can’t see his expression, there’s a dark shadow covering his face, but the red tint gives his demeanor a haunting feeling – another shiver runs down your spine. Your vision starts to blur; the fine line between reality and dreamland crashes together in your mind. Nothing feels real, the foggy state of mind wraps around you, gradually taking over your sanity.

So you flee. Or at least you try. 

Before you could jump from the building, Miguel’s strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you directly in his direction. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, and quickly you are able to untangle yourself from his grip, kicking him in the process. 

“Y/N.” You know it’s his voice, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it. It’s disconnected from the man you’ve grown to love. Dread gnawed at your insides as the nightmare turns into another torture section. His mouth is moving but you can’t make up the words; every sound gets lost in the loud rush of blood in your ears.

Not that you need it, anyway. You’ve been living the same dialogue over and over again to know like the back of your hand.

“Don’t hurt me again,” You plea, raw panic in your voice. Your mind is erratic, coming up with ideas on how to escape, but your body doesn’t follow the same line of thinking, “Please, I’m so tired.”

But it’s all in vain; the man bolts in your direction like an animal ready to devour its prey. You find yourself half mad with terror – your throat tightens as anxiety eclipsed your thoughts. 

Before Miguel can get to you, you attack. 

It never works as the man is way above your abilities, but you try – anything to be freed from having another slow, painful death. Gathering the last of your strength, you shoot a web that miraculously lands on his foot and it sticks to the ground. Quickly, you jump from one wall to another, landing a kick on his chest. 

It doesn’t do anything more than startle the man, but it gives you enough time to soar across the night sky, landing on another rooftop. The glowing of your watch catches your attention. Usually, you don’t have it with you, nightmares don’t really give you the option to flee. 

But it seems this one does. 

“Y/N!” Miguel roars. In the slip second your eyes had darted toward the gadget, the man had torn apart the single web holding him in place. He huffs, shoulders hunched forward as tension grows between you both. 

Against your better judgment, you shot him a glance. And like magnets, his eyes find yours in mi the sea of lights that only New York could offer.

You press the bottom, eyes fixed on the man coming towards you like a bolt. His talons cut the air in front of your eyes – almost like a kiss – the petrifying realization makes you fall on your back towards the portal. 

Then everything turns black.

lll.

When you open your eyes again, you’re absolutely and awfully exhausted. The weight of your body holds you down against the cold floor, almost as if it didn’t belong to you anymore. You had lost ownership after not taking care of it. Your eyelids are heavy, and for a moment you consider just going back to sleep, finally giving in to the sweet taste of relief. 

But then, the warnings in the back of your mind start to go off, and you remember why you can’t. Grunting, you take off your mask and pick yourself up. There was no rest for you, not until you find out what the hell happened. And if it was all in your mind, of if Miguel was there. 

Because that definitely didn’t feel like a dream. The phantom feeling of his fingers wrapped around your wrist still lingered, and the intensity of his gaze still made you shrink. A chill runs down your spine in trepidation. If he was really there were the nightmares just a premonition of the future?

No. Miguel would never do that. 

Even though he didn’t… like you as you liked him, the man didn’t have a single motive to want you dead. Miguel was many things, but mostly he was righteous. Dedicated to his job in an unhealthy, and obsessive way? Yes. However, he still had kindness hidden underneath his scowl, and even though his heart was mostly painted black by the loss of his old life, it still beat for the new ones the Spider Society protected. Besides, he still had some humor in him; a completely dated and cringe type of humor, but there.

And every time it made an appearance, you would find it adorable. A tiny smile appears on your lips. How could you not treasure every moment with him when it was all so rare? 

“Y/N?” Someone calls for you in the distance. You are still picking yourself up from the floor, the sudden movement makes you dizzy, and nauseous. You’re pretty sure you hit your head. 

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Margo comes into view, she quickly puts one of your arms around her neck and helps you get up. “You look terrible.”

“You should see the other guy,” You try joking around. And even though the blue avatar softly huffs, her expression of concern is serious. You must look worse than you thought. 

Margo helps you get into a chair, gently holding you until you’re comfortable in your seat. “I’m sorry for barging in, I honestly didn’t know where I was going.”

“Where you running from something?” She jokingly asks. She grabs a tablet, reads something on the screen, and goes back to work.

“Yeah,” You groan, running your hand through your hair, “You could say that.”

The room was as quiet as it always was, the only sound coming from the girl who was softly humming a song. Looking around, you notice there was no one around, only the machines as a company. You wondered if Margo ever feel lonely here; the place was big enough to fit a few dozen Spiders, however, it was always deserted. The truth was that no one actually liked to be around villains after they were captured, and sending them home was a dreadful job. Margo was definitely a viable asset to the team. 

You can feel your senses start to relax, the darkroom was a perfect invitation for a well-deserved rest. But with the sleepiness came the loss of concentration, and the last time you let your guard down, you fled from a very real Miguel. 

Small talk would be, then. “So… who’s next?”

Margo picks up her tablet, tapping a few things before showing you a picture. “She calls herself 'Torment'. But you’re probably familiar with her. After all, you and Hobie caught her a few weeks ago.”

Wait. A few weeks ago? That's exactly the time when the nightmares started to occur.

Suddenly, a flashback hits you like a bullet. A purple and blue cloud, the touch of a finger. The laugh.

“Margo, I need to talk to her,” You demand, getting up from your chair as if you had been electrified. The pieces fall into place and make a clear picture. How could you have let this fly over your head? Of course, the nightmares weren’t something normal! It had to be a product of something, or someone. 

“Y/N, I need to send her ho–”

“It’s urgent,” Holding the girl’s hand in yours, you squeeze them in a silent plea, “Please, Margo. Just give me 5 minutes.”

Margo presses her lips together; you must look desperate because she sighs, defeated. Then nods, “Make it quick.” 

“Thank you.” 

-

The Send Home Machine had come out of its cocoon, and now sat atop a circular base; waiting for the command to start the process of pulling the strings to weave the portal back home. You always thought the whole mechanism was a bit too much, but if it worked, then who were you to complain?

Margo brings Torment in, and she immediately recognizes you. 

“Oh, I knew I would see you again!” The woman’s face lights up like a Christmas tree – that couldn't be a good sign. She claps her hands, bouncing on her feet. “Looking for answers, darling?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear that spreads through your veins. It’s anger. “What did you do to me?”

The woman laughs, throwing her head back. You can clearly see she was having too much fun with you. “Now you’re interested in what I’ve to say? You didn’t seem that excited when I first came to you and your little friend.”

Your blood boils. If she wasn’t already locked up and ready to be sent home, you would definitely teach her a lesson or two. Your knuckles go white as the woman stares, the smile on her face is disturbing. How could she find pleasure in tormenting someone like that?

The sound of the engine turning startles you, Margo sends you an apologetic look as the machine descends from its place atop the base. You’re getting out of time.

“What do you want?” You shout, desperate. You can’t imagine going another week, another day haunted like this. “Tell me!”

Torment’s stare is piercing, a shadow crosses her face when the smile fades into a thin line. The silence was agonizing, and with each tread of the web, you felt your sanity slipping away. This was your last chance.

“I’m so fucking tired!” You cry out, hitting the glass so hard it almost cracks. “Do you know how it feels to not get a single hour of sleep because your nightmares are too fucking real? Do you have a single idea of how torturing it is to have him, of all people–” Margo was listening, but you didn’t care. You wanted answers and you would get them. “Why him?”

“Poor little thing. You haven’t figured it out yet?” she hums, furrowing her eyebrows. And you hate the look of pity she has on her face. It was her that did this in the first place! “That must be tough, to keep all of that to yourself.”

No one knew about your feelings for Miguel. Well, you had a slight hunch that maybe Peter B. Parker might have noticed it. But otherwise, you kept all to yourself. Treasuring little moments as precious jewelry.

He was your boss! And besides, he was still too caught up in his late family. He would never open his heart again after the tragedy bestowed upon him. You couldn't blame him; a man forever stuck in the past, reliving each moment when he was happy.

However, sometimes, you would catch him looking. Exchange glances in a crowded room; during meetings. You would spend time with him alone; in a comfortable silence hard to find, or in an easy-going atmosphere that left you smiling like an idiot. 

But that was what they were, fleeting moments. And even though sometimes you dreamed about a future where you could give him all the love he deserved, they were just that; silly dreams. There was no space for you in his life. You had accepted that long ago.

“You see, my abilities are a gift,” Torment simply says, still unphased at your suffering. “They search deep in your soul for what you seek the most. The nightmares are just an incentive to make you finally take the big step.”

“What?” A memory comes to the forefront of your mind; a finger touching your forehead, the slight shock that sent you back a few steps. Miguel’s face appears right after the electric feeling dissipates. “What do you mean?”

“You know very well,” There’s some sort of twisted kindness when her smile appears again, it irks you profoundly, “Take care, darling. You can thank me later.”

The machine finishes threading the web, encapsulating the woman inside a honey-colored web. The last thing you see is her waving at you before disappearing into nothing.

Outraged, you punch the glass again, and again. No, no, no. This can’t be happening! That woman must be lying, there’s no way the cure to this torment is–

“Calm down, Y/N!” Margo holds your wrist before you can land another hit. She’s saying something but you can’t hear it. Anxiety takes over your body as you crouch on the floor, hiding your face in your arms. 

You will have to tell Miguel. 

And that was worse than any other nightmare. 

[iamsherlocked1479]

Admit it

Word count: 1.9k words

Description: Sherlock believes that lingerie is pointless so y/n decides to prove him wrong, no matter the costs.

Warnings: 18+, very angsty, BJ, P in V sex, choking, slut shame

A/N: this is my apology for not posting as much hope you like it! But chapter 11 is about halfway done atm.

“I don’t get it!” Sherlock shouted at the television screen, jolting you awake with his movement, you had fallen asleep on him again, which of course he didn’t have a problem with.

“W-what now?” You ask dazed from your sleep

“These adverts look at those women.” He pointed to the ad you had seen thousands of times for a designer company showing off their new lingerie.

“Its just an ad?” You say confused, this is your punishment for letting him get to intrigued in the reality tv shows you watch, his attempt of proving he could be a normal boyfriend.

“Yes but I don’t get why lingerie is so amazing.” He turned to you

“Because its a way to feel pretty, seductive almost.” You laugh

“But you don’t need lingerie to look beautiful.” He added

“You know you should use that line more often.” You laugh

“I really don’t understand society.” He sighed and turned his head back to the screen.

“So you wouldn’t care if i wore something like that?” You ask

“I prefer you in nothing, we both know that.” He squeezed your thigh

“No but its meant to make their partners want them more. A treat i would say.” You thought how you ended up explaining the use of lingerie to your boyfriend who was very much experienced by now in the arts of physical relationships with you.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.” You laugh “its like when you wear that purple shirt that’s slightly too tight for you” you smirk as his brow raises

“That actually explains a lot.”

“Never mind the show is back on.” You point to the screen

“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” He smiled

“Would that be a problem?” You ask

“Never.” He added, and as usual he was right. You woke up the next morning in you shared bed trying to work out how you’d gotten there but then remembered your conversation from last night, maybe he would like it if you wore lingerie. You hadn’t exactly tried that before, you knew he was probably out on a case so you got dressed with your mission clear. Finding the perfect lingerie to seduce the great Sherlock Holmes, who also happened to be the man who never had physical relationships with anyone, in a physical relationship with you.

You started out with a few common clothing shops with nothing really taking your fancy so you decided it would be better to look in the expensive shops, like the one from the advert. You browse the isles being amazed by the different styles and colours in all shapes and sizes before finally seeing the perfect set.

On a mannequin in front of you was a purple laced bra and panties set. It was almost the same colour as his shirt so you knew it would be perfect, the bra was lace and obviously see through and the panties would fit your figure just right.

It was early evening by the time you got home, and Sherlock’s violin could be heard throughout the apartment. He smiled when he saw you, but didn’t stop playing. It was obvious whatever case he was on was really toying with his mind mind.

“I’m just gonna take a shower.” You yelled not expecting a reply, it was time to put your plan into action. You showered and washed your hair, whilst also performing for the various bottles of shampoo that probably wished they didn’t need to hear the same verse from careless whisper three times over. You towel dry your hair enough so it wouldn’t be dripping wet, without getting too frizzy the next day and slipped on the lingerie. And god it was perfect, there was no way in hell even Sherlock holmes could deny you didn’t look good, you weren't one for loving yourself too much but this made it difficult.

You left the bathroom wearing only the lingerie and Sherlock was still playing, but upon hearing you enter the room he began playing a careless whisper mocking your singing.

“Was I really being that loud?” You laugh

“I’ve heard worse.” He still hadn’t turned around, dam his stupid mind palace.

“So what case are you stuck on?” You ask moving to the kitchen and ignoring the severed human limbs to make tea.

“A soldier was murdered, found dead in the shower, no way in, no way out and no signs of a struggle. Just dead, it appears as if a ghost killed him.” He still hadn’t turned around, god he was arrogant sometimes.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” You ask

“Yes and is there any biscu-.” He stopped and finally laid his eyes on you. Your back was to him, your ass clearly showing.

“Everything okay back there?” You smirk

“W-what are you wearing?” He asked, you could have swore you heard a gulp.

“Oh this little thing? I picked it up today. What do you think?” You tapped the tea spoon on the cup and turned around, he watched your every move as you entered the living room. You place the tea on the table and walk over to him, now he was intrigued. It was time to play your game. “Sit please” you push him back into his chair and he falls back with a huff his eyes scanning every part of your body.

“I- I think its n-nice.” He watched as you teased him moving your hips as you turned around allowing him to look at everything.

“But you see I’m not sure about it, could you have a closer look?” You step towards him, and place yourself in his lap straddling his legs, with your chest in his face, his hands slid up your legs towards your hips, but you pushed them away. “Ah ah, remember I thought you didn’t see the point in clothes like this. In my opinion i’d say they’re pretty effective.” You could feel him twitching beneath you,

“Maybe they are helping a tad bit.” He shuffled in his seat trying his best to do as you said but he wasn’t going to admit you were right.

“Pitty, I thought they were working.” You began circulating your hips, grinding yourself against his growing length, letting out small moans of pleasure. You watched as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly at the sensation of you rubbing against him. You moved your hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers moved closer to you tracing along your leg, but you stopped your movements and tutted. “Admit I was right and maybe I’ll let you touch.”

He grunted frustratedly he wasn’t one for admitting he was wrong, but here you sat in his lap grinding against him and he couldn’t even kiss you. “Shit” he sighed “fine you were right” you smiled at your win and pushed your lips against his and began moving faster.

“I can’t help myself around you, fuck baby.” He trailed his lips along your neck going in between the crevice of your breast with his tongue, he pulled down the straps of your bra and pulled your tits free. He took one into his mouth, nibbling the nipple slightly while gripping the other with his hand.

You gripped his hair pushing him further into your chest letting out more moans edging him on. You pushed your soaked cunt harder on him, making his cock rub against your clit beginning to causing the knot in your stomach to grow tighter, growing closer to your release. He purred into your chest as your wetness soaked through his trousers, which grew ever tighter with your work. You couldn’t hold it back any longer your hips jolted as you came,

“Oh fuck Sherlock yes, fuck you’re so hard its s-so good.”

“Mmm fuck i can’t wait any longer.” He stood up and carried you through the hall towards your bedroom, his lips still locked to yours as he kicked the door open and carried you to the bed. He dropped you there watching as you knelt below him, wiping the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Want your cock, baby, I need it.” You whimpered as you unbuckled his belt. You pulled down his boxers and watched as he moaned as you licked a stripe down his length before gently sucking on his balls as your hand pumped him slowly. His head knocked back with a sigh of relief as you reached his tip again, and slowly began bobbing your head down over it, working your tongue around him before sinking down a little farther. You tried your best to swallow around him he helped by pushing himself in gently letting out deep moans the further you got. His hip’s jolted again as you pulled back and worked on the tip again, he was becoming too sensitive and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. He pushed your mouth away and brought you to his gently gripping your throat.

“Don't think I forgot you wouldn’t let me touch you, I won’t let that go unnoticed. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for a week.” He pushed you onto the bed and positioned his frame over you, he practically ripped off the panties and entered with a hard thrust causing you to yelp and grip to the bed sheets. He pushed hard into you the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room accompanied by your moans, you clawed at his back as he fucked you

“Look at you so cock drunk, you think you can parade yourself around like a little slut in my apartment and get away with it. Do you?” He asked

“N-no.” You whimpered, leaning your head back as your back arched

“No what?” He grabbed your chin making your eyes level with his dark blues

“N-no sir.”

“Good.” He flipped you over and knelt over you, slowing his pace, taking more time to push harder into you. “Now say you’re sorry.” He slapped your ass, hard smiling as a pink gleam appeared

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered

“Good girl, now we can enjoy this.” He sped up his pace and placed one hand under you, his thumb rubbing your already swollen clit. The pulse of you clit sent waves through you as you squirmed, he fucked you hard through your orgasm

“Oh fuck, sherlock just there, thats right!” Your voice was muffled as you buried yourself in the sheets pulling them from the corners.

Sherlock groaned, he loved the sight of you being this way around him, so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold yourself up. He too was reaching his end the way your pussy clenched around his cock was enough to set him off, spewing thick white ropes deep inside of you and collapsing onto you.

He took a moment to cat his breath, his cock still inside you before pulling himself off the bed,

“Looks like you need another shower.” He held out his hand as you turned and sprawled onto the bed

“I can’t, too tired.” You say breathlessly

“I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He smiled while wiping the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Hmm” you groaned as your eyes fell closed. Sherlock fixed the sheets around you before wrapping your body in a cover and allowing you to sleep. He showered before going back to his violin, this time thinking only of you. Though he would never tell you, maybe just this once you were right.

[wrenwreads]

hidden treasures

Edmund discovers something new in Narnia. Or is it new? Lucy seems to be just unimpressed.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!mage!reader

warnings/other info: reader is implied to be also human but has magical capabilities? edmund a bit of an ignorant (lucy calls him one + an idiot). edmund bumps into reader. usual pevensie sibling banter. the fic itself might be a bit shit too, sorry

genre: fluff, strangers-to-friends

word count: 1,183

a/n: this is just something to get my writing brain working after going missing for ages lol (sorry) i got so so so caught up with my final exams n everyone leaving for uni and skdhkjgasjkdda but i'm better now and have more free time so hopefully i don't abandon you guys again (not gonna promise anything tho) - requests and questions r open!

Edmund remembers the day so vividly.

Susan had just been berating him about his king-ly duties. Almost demanding him to finish them. If Edmund's being honest, he would say she probably was. And he was growing sick — annoyed, actually — at Susan’s constant reminders. And it’s not like he doesn’t even finish them on time. He simply has his own pace.

He was getting close to snapping at his older sister, and from what his brain allows him to remember — snapping at now Queen Susan was worse than Finchley Susan.

So he simply scoffed, standing up from his seat, heading out of the castle — desperate for some fresh air.

With his satchel with him, he decided to walk around town. Greeting Narnians here and there, occasionally stopping by stands to feed his own curiosity. He even remembers picking up another book, one he now keeps on his nightstand to read when he can’t go to bed.

What had been so significant about the day was stumbling onto something — someone, rather — who he swears he had not met before.

“Oh! I sincerely apologise your majesty. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Although, I am in a rush so... I’ll see you around!”

The moment was too quick for Edmund to register. Only a couple moments after did he realise the voice that had just spoken to him. Accent almost too familiar to just be Narnian. He whipped his head around, watching as the same person rushes through the busy workings of the town, impressively dodging obstacles along their way.

Now on present day, his attempts at convincing his siblings that there is a new citizen in town are going nowhere. Peter seems to have just started ignoring him, Susan the same, and Lucy… Lucy is just unimpressed.

“Have you really just met the healing mage, Ed? Really?”

“I swear Lu she’s— wait, healing mage?”

Lucy sighs, looking at Susan for back up. The older girl only shrugs, leaving her to herself and when she looked at Peter, the man was already chuckling.

Edmund observes the exchange happening before him, confusion clouding his mind.

“Can someone just catch me up on what’s going on? Please?” he practically begs.

“That’s Y/N you’re talking about, you ignorant idiot. And she’s not new. She moved here — appeared rather, a few months ago when you were out for diplomacy. I guess you really just haven’t bumped into her before.”

“What do you mean appeared? Is she a daughter of Eve to—”

“I think that’s a question for you to ask her Edmund. It seems you have been ignoring the sole person keeping Narnians healthy.”

The next day, Edmund woke up early to deliver a basket of herbs. It was meant to be Lucy’s job, one that she personally does every week and the same job Edmund questioned but never asked about. Well, now he’s about to get his answers and Lucy argues it’s an excuse for him to finally meet the mage.

He follows the path with white lilies per Lucy’s instructions.

“Y/N loves lilies, especially white ones.” She had added.

As soon as he felt that he was getting lost, a small cottage appears just a few more lilies away.

He had to pause in his step. It was quaint, the cottage looking like it was out of a fairy-tale the way nature surrounded it. Not that Edmund can say that anymore, the way he and his siblings made it to Narnia proved too good to be true at first.

His admiration was cut short when he heard the door swinging open, revealing no one else but the same person he had bumped into the day before. Only this time, Edmund can see her clearly and she is no longer in a rush. He continued watching, his presence seemed to be unknown as Y/N continued fussing around her front garden. Her mouth was moving, seemingly talking to the greenery.

Edmund takes a step forward, slowly making out the words coming out of her mouth as he gets closer.

“Come on Thistle! We haven’t got all day! And Lokas, please tell me that’s not a ruby in your hand?! Oh please, I already told you—”

“Hello!”

The young girl’s erratic dialogue came to a stop. Her body looking like it froze in place as she gawks at Edmund. The creatures below her were no different. Edmund had just realised she was surrounded by not only nature, but creatures alike — faeries and pixies, gnomes of almost all ages, and pixies.

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Finally gaining her senses back, she straightens herself up and smiles. “Good morning, your majesty! I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Edmund could only smile, raising the basket he still had in his hold. “Neither did I. Unfortunately, Lucy had some emergency duties to run this morning so I offered to do her plant delivery.”

“Oh! That’s very thoughtful of you your majesty, but you shouldn’t have. I would’ve picked it up myself at the castle anyway.”

She had now gotten closer, leaving her front gate open as she accepts the basket from Edmund, a sudden gasp escaping her lips as she does so. “Oh! Where are my manners. I’m Y/N, your majesty. I should’ve done that sooner.”

“Consider us two even. After-all, I am the one here only just hearing about you and your job as the kingdom’s healer.”

Y/N laughs. “And oh, please, just call me Edmund.”

“Is that the king I see again?”

The faery’s question had Y/N looking up from her cauldron, confused. After making sure her current concoction was not going to blow up anytime soon, she pats her hands dry on her apron as she makes her way to the same table where Thistle was currently hovering. Her brows furrow as she makes out Edmund walking towards her cottage.

“It sure is Thistle. I wonder what he’s here for.”

She exits her own home, a smile – although a bit sceptical — forming on her face. Edmund smiles back, walk turning into a slight jog as he gets closer. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, Edmund. I hope everything’s alright at the castle.”

Worry replaces her confusion. The only reason a member of the castle, the king rather, would personally pay her a visit would be because something had gone wrong and they needed her help. “Oh! Don’t worry. Everything is well in shape. I was just… bored. Yeah, bored.”

Y/N nods, sensing the growing nervousness of the young king.

“Bored, you say?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided to come here?”

“Yes.”

Is it bad to tease your royal highnesses a bit?

“To my small cottage?”

Surely not.

“Yes…”

“Where you could have easily done, I don’t know — fencing or riding on your horse. You know, like what other kings do?”

“Yes…?”

Her smile turns into a smirk, finding amusement in the way Edmund began questioning his own answers. She chuckles, allowing Edmund to relax — a nervous laugh escaping himself. “I’m only teasing. Would you like to come in, Edmund?”