#you’re kind of everything and everywhere in low light

[philhoffman]

More little stories about our Phil ❤️ The one from his friend Michael Puzzo is about Doubt—Puzzo played one of the other priests during that gluttonous dinner scene :)

[cybiirz]

ೃ⁀➷ DOCUMENTS

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : Seems like a certain Warden had tired himself out. Being the kind person you were, you chose to help, but you forgot how deceiving an inmate can be. He was no different…But at least he pays?

WC : 829

“Wriothesleyyy! I brought you something from Sigewinne. She says it’s for like, helping you stay awake or whatever,” You groaned out as you treaded up the stairs. Currently, you were holding a large box of medicine that you were supposed to be delivering to other inmates.

That was your punishment for getting involved in a little experiment that was supposedly forbidden in the fortress…Either way, it was tiring and you just wanted it to be done with.

Your footsteps echoed against the walls as you stomped onto the metal stairwell. Finally, you reached the top, and with a lack of breath might you add. Who the hell needed so much medicine anyway? Nevertheless, you kept your head low as you observed the different bottles inside.

“There’s a lot here, let me just find yours and…got it. Huh, this thing has way too many side effects! How the hell do you even—” You lifted up your head to look at Wriothesley, only to find him practically passed out on his desk. You paused and cocked your head to the side.

Suddenly, you had an idea and with a smile and a slight skip in your step, you closed in on the desk. Outstretching your arms, you held the box over the table before dropping the heavy equipment, creating a loud slam against the wood.

No reaction.

“Huh? So he’s really knocked out then,” You murmured quietly to yourself. You opted to walk around the table and slowly approached his unconscious form. You began poking his head, and to no surprise, no reaction.

“Jeez. You overwork yourself too much you idiot,” You whispered next to him. Glancing at all of his papers, it took less than a second to see how messed up everything was. You sighed deeply and decided to help out this son of a gun.

It had been about an hour or so, with you going over the different documents and having to dig deep into his shelves to pair up each page to its designated folder. Covering your mouth, you let out a loud yawn before looking back over at the warden. Still fast asleep.

A small chuckle left your lips as you walked back over to him. Resting yourself against the table, you lifted your left hand and gently stroked his head.

“Well I organised each and every document for you. And since I went over each word written, I've seen you’re doing a good job for this prison. Even for inmates like me, you treat us well…But you are definitely paying me back one way or another once you’re awake,” After partially scolding him but mainly complimenting him, you began to get lost in a daze as you stared softly at the man in front of you.

Once you finished speaking, his head turned slightly, eyes opening with a small smirk splayed on his lips. You swiftly retracted your hand and looked away, trying to avoid his stare.

“Thanks for that (name). I appreciate you doing that but, you know I could’ve done all of it that whole time. I wasn’t actually asleep you know?,” He replied, his voice slightly condescending.

“Yeah well I expect payment back and—” Your arms crossed over your chest before you paused. What did he just say? “Hang on, you were pretending?! You little liar! You’re so lazy that you had to fake sleeping to get someone else to do your work for you?! Now I better get that payment before I rip your—”

You were quickly cut off as a pair of lips landed directly onto yours. Your eyes instantly widened in shock as Wriothesley lifted his hand and cupped your face. Slowly but surely, you melted into the kiss and held your arm up before resting your hand onto his shoulder.

After parting, the light sounds of heavy breathing could be heard from you. You tried to look everywhere apart from him, but he moved his hand to grip your chin, causing you to face him.

“That was, unnecessary warden,” You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That was your payment,” He responded smugly. Looking at him with your blood rushing to your cheeks, you noticed the slight crease in the corners of his eyes. He was smiling at you, and not one of mockery or a fake smile, it was genuine.

“Well then…I have to get going and deliver these to the other inmates. Thank you for paying me back,” You cleared your throat before moving away from him and picking up the box. You left his medicine on the table as you made sure to secure the lid of the box. He crossed his arms over his torso as you began to descend down the stairs.

“(Name). Come back again and I'll be sure to repay you for whatever documents you organise for me,” Wriothesley’s voice had a somewhat teasing lilt to it, but it was evident he was serious. You rolled your eyes and simply scoffed at him before taking your leave.

But who were you to deny such a special treat?

A/N : Love me a little overworked man. But anyway, it’s finally my half term so i’ll hopefully be posting small drabbles that appear my head. Series work is becoming boring so oneshots and drabbles will probs be my thing. I might finish off the Gepard series but we’ll see. Also i’m thinking of doing a revamp to this blog buttt idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave requests!

[flightlessangelwings]

Never Let You Go

Joel Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n) Word count- 3.2k Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fight/argument, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, making up, love confessions, feelings, light dirty talk and praise kink, unprotected sex, set in the Jackson part of the show/game Notes- Inspired by a thought from discord that I just had to write into a full fic! And added a little romantic smut too cause gotta have that happy ending after that angst lol! The angst was very cathartic for me tow rite since I’ve been going through it lately too lol. Enjoy! Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

Jackson was like a dream. After living in the QZ for so long and then making the dangerous trip across the country with Joel and Ellie, it felt surreal that there was a settlement of people living so peacefully. Laughter rang everywhere you went, and the kindness was a welcome change of pace. Not to mention a clean house, a warm meal and a hot shower felt like heaven on earth.

But the feeling of paradise didn’t last long when Joel came up to you with a serious look on his face. “Hey,” his tone was low and he held a calmness in his eyes.

Your face dropped, “What is it, Joel?”

“We gotta talk,” he sighed as he crossed his arms.

“Something wrong?” you asked as your nerves tingled under your skin. You knew by the look on Joel’s face that something was in his mind, and it scared you to wonder what was going through his head. After traveling across the country with him and Ellie, you liked to think you knew him well… and you held a secret longing in your heart for him. But right now, a chill ran through your veins and you had no idea what was coming next. 

“Now that we’re here, I think you should stay.” Joel sounded cold as he spoke. As much as he hated to break your heart like this, he told himself that this was for the best. This was the best way to keep you safe and out of danger. He had too many close calls on the road, and the thought of losing you was too much for him to bear. It was a stab in the heart to see that look on your face and the tears in your eyes, but if it kept you safe, Joel would find a way to manage. 

“What?” you snapped in a burst of emotions, “Stay?”

“Yeah,” Joel huffed as he hid his true feelings under the anger that suddenly exploded between you, “This place has everything you need. You can build a new life here. You’ll be happy. Trust me, this is the best for you.“

“Don’t make my decision for me, Joel. You should know me better than to do that.” The rage bubbled to the surface as tears filled your eyes and you stared at him, “Why?” was the first question that popped into your head after several moments of tense silence.

“Because,” Joel’s tone turned more sour as he sounded harsher than he meant to, “You’re better off here. It’s best this way.” 

From behind you, Ellie’s face appeared in the shadows. She watched with wide eyes as the two of you went back and forth, but she decided to stay silent. You didn’t even know she was there, but Joel caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.

“So after everything we’ve been through, you’re just dumping me off here? Don’t I mean anything to you?” There it was: the hurt under all the animosity. And it was palpable as your voice broke. 

Joel’s jaw clenched but he stayed silent.

And that only made you angrier, “What is this, you think I can’t handle myself out there? That I’m a fucking liability or something? Is that it, Joel? I’m not a damsel in distress you know!”

“It’s not…” He couldn’t keep up the facade anymore as you broke down in front of him. Suddenly, Joel regretted ever bringing it up in the first place. 

“Save it,” you spat as you turned to leave, “Fine. Have it your way. Good luck with everything,” your tone was harsh and low as you walked out the door and slammed it behind you.

Joel watched you leave with tears in his eyes, but he stayed frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest as all the unspoken words ate him up inside. He wanted to tell you the truth of why he wanted you to stay in Jackson. He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, But he couldn’t risk that. Not when he’d already lost so much.

“Joel!” Ellie’s voice rang from where he hid in the shadows, “What the fuck are you doing? Go after her!” She ran up and tugged at his arm.

“Ellie it ain’t that simple,” Joel signed as he turned and walked towards the bedroom, “She’s too angry right now anyway…” …And I blew it…

“Joel…”

“Ellie!” Joel snapped back louder than he meant to. When he saw Ellie’s wide eyes, he took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone, “Enough,” he sounded exasperated as he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving Ellie alone in the flurry of emotions that both of you left behind. Behind closed doors, Joel buried his head in his hands as his own tears soaked his skin.

Fuck…

*

The cold air nipped at your skin as you sat outside in the snow. You walked around Jackson aimlessly for hours until your legs screamed at you to rest. So, you stopped somewhere in the outskirts of the town and sat on a log. The spot you picked was up on a hill, and it gave you the perfect view of Jackson.

You watched all the people in the distance as you stayed in your solitude. A fresh layer of snow made the ground glisten and your eyes traced the footsteps that the people left behind. Chatter echoed from the crowd that gathered in the middle of town, and you watched with a solemn expression as families gathered together.

Couples nuzzled together in front of the glittering lights. Lovers brought their partners mugs of warm drinks to share together. Families laughed together like the world hadn’t fallen apart around them. For the first time in a long time, you saw so many smiling faces. Instead of it bringing you comfort, though, it only brought you sadness.

A sharp shiver escaped your lips as a chill ran up your skin. Goosebumps erupted on your arms under the thin coat you wore, and you wished you had grabbed something thicker before you stormed out on Joel. Your teeth chattered as you sat alone in the cold…

But, that chill suddenly vanished when you felt a new layer of warmth across your shoulders and back. You gasped as you turned around and saw Joel next to you as he slung his warm jacket over your shoulders. He held a melancholy look in his eyes as he sat down next to you without a word.

“Joel…” you snarled. When he just looked forward, watching the crowd that had captivated you to the point where you didn’t hear him walk up behind you, you softened, “Thank you.”

He sighed your name, “You’re welcome.”

You stared at Joel for several long moments, studying his features. Scars littered his face, but they only made him more handsome to you. The sharp angle of his nose and the softness in his eyes captivated you from the moment you met. When he exhaled, your eyes landed on his lips, and you wondered what it was like to kiss them. 

And as furious as you were at Joel for what he said earlier, you couldn’t help but feel calm and safe with him just sitting beside you in this comfortable silence. There was just something about him that you couldn’t pull away from even if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Joel broke the silence with a confession that caught you off guard. 

This time it was your turn to stay silent as he turned and faced you. The look on his face made your heart skip a beat, and the sorrow in his eyes made you want to pull him close and hold him tight. But, you could also tell he had more to say, so you let him continue.

“I don’t think you can’t handle yourself. And you ain’t a liability. It ain't nothing like that at all,” Joel spoke in a soft tone but one that still held all the emotions he kept buried, “The truth is…” he sighed as his gaze dropped to the ground, “I was afraid.”

“You? Afraid?” you scoffed, “Joel you’re the toughest man I know. I’ve seen you take on a clicker with just a rusty shiv. You protected me and Ellie all this time. So what…?”

“I love you,” Joel interrupted you with another confession that took you by surprise.

“What?” Your voice was hushed as you gasped.

Joel sighed as he buried his face in his hands for a moment before he turned to you again, “The reason I’m afraid, baby… Is because I fucking love you. The thought of losing you is just…” he sobbed softly, “Fuck, I can’t even bare it if anything happened to you. You and Ellie… You’re everything to me now.”

“Joel,” you breathed as you scooted yourself closer and cupped his face, “Call me that again.”

A flash of a grin lit up his face, “Baby…” 

You looked deep into his eyes, and the mistiness you saw there brought on tears of your own. You rubbed your thumbs across his beard a few times before you crashed your lips to his. Joel let out a muffled groan, but quickly reciprocated the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in even closer as he deepened the kiss.

Even in the cold, a warmth spread between your bodies as you held each other tightly. Your hands grasped at his jaw as you tasted Joel on your tongue. You moaned softly into his mouth, and it only spurred him on more as he ran his hands up and down your back. Between the warmth of his jacket and the explosion of emotions between you both, the icy fingers of the winter air melted away.

When you broke away for air, you rested your forehead against Joel’s, “I love you too, Joel. I have for a long fucking time.” You were quiet again as you just stared into his eyes, “From now on, we work together, ok? Don’t push me away.”

“Yes ma’am,” the smile that lit up Joel’s face made your heart flutter and the way he squeezed your waist sent a pulse through your body that went right to your core. “How about you and I get out of here then,” Joel’s low tone made you whimper with need and suddenly a new feeling took over your body and your mind.

“Let’s go,” you murmured in a matching tone.

Joel stood, taking you with him, and he never let you go on the walk back to the house that Tommy and Maria set you all up in. When you crossed the door, Joel shrugged his jacket off of you and called out into the house, “Ellie?”

When it was silent, you made your way into the living room where a note sat on the table, “Joel,” you called out to him as you read the note, “Ellie went to the movies with the other kids in town. We have the place to ourselves for a while.”

Joel came up behind you and snaked his arms around you, pulling you close as he groaned in your ear, “Good,” he bucked his hips against your body, “Cause I’d hate to have to keep you quiet after finally having you to myself, baby.”

“Joel…” you moaned as you turned around and faced him, “Who knew you had such a mouth on you,” you quipped back before he took your lips with his in another deep, heated kiss.

“I’ve thought about this for so long, baby,” Joel purred as he led you through the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, “You have no idea how long I wanted to hold you and never let you go.”

“Then hold me and never let me go, Joel.” 

He let out a single soft laugh, “Yes ma’am,” he repeated himself in a softer tone as he kissed you again.

As much as he wanted to take his time with you, the need was also too great to take it slow. In what felt like a flash, you both had stumbled your way into the bedroom, kissing each other and ripping clothes off as you went. You didn’t even notice the bed until your legs hit the edge and you tumbled backwards and landed on your back with Joel on top of you. Both of you let out loud huffs as the air was forced out of your lungs but you immediately broke out into laughter.

“Now I’m extra glad I got to have a shower,” you joked.

“Doesn't matter to me, baby,” Joel groaned, “I’d still have you either way. I ain’t scared of a little dirt and sweat.”

“Joel,” you playfully slapped his shoulder before your laughter dissipated and you admired every inch of skin that was now exposed to you. Your mouth dropped open as you couldn’t help but gawk at Joel naked on top of you, “Wow…” you breathed in awe.

He dropped his head and let the tufts of hair hide his face as he took the opportunity to admire you as well, “Fuck baby you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could retort, Joel took your lips with his once more, but this time the kiss was slow and deep. His hips rocked against yours as his tongue danced in the same rhythm. Joel’s hardened cock dragged along your wet folds as he swallowed the moans you let out from his actions.

“Baby, as much as I wanna take my time with you, I don’t think I can right now,” Joel pleaded.

“Then fuck me, Joel,” you moaned, “I don’t care… I need you too bad.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he nudged his cock at your entrance, “I swear baby, next time I’m gonna take my time with you,” Joel moaned as he slowly pushed the tip past your first ring of muscle, “I’m gonna spend hours between your legs before I fuck you. Then I’m gonna fuck you til the sun comes up.”

“Oh fuck… Joel…” your mind swam as he pushed himself inside you inch by inch while whispering sweet praises in your ear. Between his cock stretching you out and the way he spoke, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“You alright, baby?” Joel cupped the side of your face as he continued to slowly sheath himself inside you.

“Yes,” you replied  immediately, “Please Joel… Keep going…”

“Shit baby…”

Joel covered your body with his own and buried his face in the crook of your neck as his hips met yours. Both of you moaned loudly as your bodies connected and he buried his cock completely inside you. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and dug your nails into his back.

“Move Joel… Please…”

Unable to deny you, Joel groaned your name as he rocked his hips back and snapped them forward, slamming his cock deep inside you. Both of you cried out in harmony as he thrust his hips again and again in a steady rhythm. You threw your head back as tears filled the corners of your eyes. To you and Joel, the entire world melted away and all that was left was each other as he filled you over and over again.

“Fuck… Joel… I’m gonna…” you moaned as you clung to him tighter.

“Fuck baby… Me too…”

Joel sped up his thrusts as you both chased your climaxes. And between the heat of the moment and the high emotions, it didn’t take long for you both to fall apart. You and Joel clawed at each other as you came one right after the other. Moans and cries and incoherent praises echoed between you two as you rode out your climaxes together. Even in the cold, sweat lined your bodies as you both trembled from the weight of your orgasms until you both completely collapsed. 

You held Joel close as he let himself flop on top of you, his cock still buried inside you. Neither of you wanted to move even if you could, and you placed soft kisses along his hairline. You felt Joel mirror your action as he kissed along your shoulder and whenever he could reach. Heavy breaths were the only sound in the room as you both recovered your strength. 

With a groan, Joel eventually pushed himself up and pulled out of you before he collapsed next to you. Immediately, you nuzzled yourself into his open arms and rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you closed your eyes contently. The beat of Joel’s heat reminded you that he was still there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. And the feeling of you in his arms told Joel that you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere. Together, you stayed happy in the other’s arms.

And sleep would have taken you over if it weren’t for the sound of the front door opening and Ellie calling both your names.

“Anyone here?” she called into the quiet house.

“Upstairs, Ellie… But don’t come up here,” you called out to her with a giggle.

Even without seeing her, you knew that Ellie rolled her eyes at you, “Ok gross!” she couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t go traumatizing children here!”

“Ellie!” Joel chastised.

She stomped up the stairs as loudly as possible, “I am here!” Ellie enunciated every word with a stomp, “Just going to my room,” she hollered as she reached the door and slammed it shut behind her, “I gotta find earmuffs or something,” she muttered to herself. Truly though, Ellie was happy the two of you made up, “It’s about fucking time.” If she had anyone to bet with, Ellie would have wagered how long it would take you and Joel to finally realize your feelings for the other. 

Your eyes never left Joel’s face as the two of you listened to Ellie’s dramatic display. You couldn’t help but smile brightly as he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. But, when he felt you staring, he turned and met your gaze.

“What is it?” Joel asked.

“Nothing,” you sighed dreamily, “It’s just… This is nice,” you gestured to the room, “It feels right, you know?”

Joel let out a short laugh as he gave you a squeeze, “It does…” 

“Promise me it’ll be like this after we’re done,” you said, “The three of us together like this…” …like family.

Joel leaned forward and placed a long kiss on your forehead, “I promise baby,” his low tone made your heart skip a beat, “I ain’t coming back without both of you.” 

You closed your eyes contently as you leaned into his embrace. Neither of you spoke the words that were on the tip of your tongues, but you both knew from the way you held the other what was left unsaid. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” Joel muttered as he made himself comfortable and pulled you in so that your head rested on his shoulder and his arms stayed securely wrapped around you. 

And Joel looked forward to the days that would end like this: with the ones he loved safe under the same roof. For Joel, that was paradise and worth fighting for. 

[maeumdemiel]

yearning

tags: aftercare, implied sex/suggestive (? tagged just in case), fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining, fluff

summary: the two of you are tired and, at long last, an all-knowing yearning gives way for peace.

word count: 2.5k

author’s notes: (bass boosted) i am yearning !!!!!! god i just love the idea of ruined first kisses and then making them up

can’t believe this is my first post after MONTHS of announcing myself cuz wow so much happened since september. this was gonna be just a tad bit longer but it’s just a mess of thoughts lolol

Miguel O’Hara has high-cut cheekbones and wispy eyelashes and insists on holding you close after you both finish. He claims that it stabilizes his breathing quicker so he can then tend to you, whom he unknowingly loves enough to forget what waits for him beyond your bed. A meticulous, waiting gaze watches you; blissfully lost, you open your eyes to the kiss on your forehead. It’s a relief that follows and is always ready for you. Your hands need something to ground to.

There are strong arms, a firm chest, and everything warm. Miguel pulls the blanket up where his hands don’t reach.

“You okay?”

You nod, breathless, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Yeah, I— I’m good.”

You were exhausted. Miguel doesn’t half-ass anything— never has and never will— and you were no exception. As insatiable as he can be, he makes a point of his gratitude. Those feverish kisses everywhere will stay with you. His hands, relentless but forgiving, sought for more tonight.

“Tired?” He sounds more composed now.

You can’t help but scoff. “No shit, Miguel. I’m worn out.”

A begrudging quip makes him chuckle. It’s low and throaty, reverberating where you hear it beautifully. His hands, one on your head and the other on the small of your back bring you a smidge closer. You’re fine like this: tangled in skin and sheets and kissing wherever your lips can reach. Miguel knows this because you’re quiet and receptive. Bashful excitement buzzes in his chest, knowing you’d never pull away from this.

For him, you’d undress down to the nerves. Hand him shears to cut away the bone that protects your heart to watch how it reacts to his exploratory touch. You reel from the memory of his kisses down your sternum every time he goes lower.

“Good.” His laugh is breathy. “I aim to please.”

You laugh with him, playfully shoving his shoulder as he brings his head to rest atop yours, cradling you like a wounded animal.

“Real funny, Mig. But I know I’m not the only one who’s tired.”

Now you sound more composed. This proximity gives you a view of his clean collarbones. Hardly do either of you spend these intimate moments without marking each other; you want to ignore the pull of your lips into a smile when you see his skin glowing. Instead, you thumb the contour of his collarbone.

He sighs, and you melt. “No doubt, hermosa. You’re a lot of work, y’know.”

“As if you’re not.”

His sturdy arm keeps your head up, finding his eyes in that heartbeat. It's the afterglow and balmy light that softens the angles of his face. He looks kind even if he feels perpetually tired. Rest looks sweet on him; it’s a gorgeous distraction. When your eyes flutter, Miguel wrestles that knee-jerk reaction to kiss you.

He hums. He’s white-knuckling that yearning. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

“Not if the multiverse has anything to say about that.” You huff.

Miguel comes to you with too much on his mind, heavy shoulders, and weary eyes. It didn’t take long to learn the kind of person he is in your bed— and soon enough, you happily welcomed him with any sign of his fading resistance. Soon enough, you provided more than just your bed for comfort. He fought against it at first, gently swatting away your hands when they would graze the ache and tiredness in his limbs. Whether he stopped resisting that relief or you were too stubborn for him, lovingly, he gave up.

“You’re all work and no play. Well—” You gaze down, beaming when you see how close both of you are. “Some play. I stand corrected.”

“Qué te puedo decir? I’m a busy man. You’re one to talk, though.” He leans in and you feel his grin against your cheek. “You sure know how to make me work for it.”

[What can I tell you?]

Embarrassed until you hear the tinge of exhaustion and satisfaction in his voice, you grin back. “I need my fun too, Mig.”

He looks down at you, but the vision before you occupies your attention. The sculpture of his muscle and how light bends across it— ruthlessly beautiful. Your hand finds his heart and you watch how he takes a deep breath beneath your palm. He spreads his lungs on the bed, watching you hesitate less than he does.

Something that you want to bring your lips to. Something that should remain a temptation. It’s a dream before you.

“What, sweetheart?”

Miguel enjoys catching you staring at him. You’ve appreciated him graciously when he gives back in bed, but he caught on whenever you took the lead. He didn’t know he had a dream in your shape until he left one night, vividly recalling the praises, looks, and kisses you engraved into him. Easily, he could have lasted a while on his own just with the thought of you, but he craves how you look at him.

Faintly, you grin and whisper, “Nothing. You look pretty.”

It catches him off-guard, surprisingly. His hand squeezes the one you have on his chest. When your eyes meet again, you take in the breath he let go of. Miguel searches your face for something to tell him you want more.

“No sé que hay en esta cabezita para decirme algo así.” Miguel doesn’t hold back his amusement, even less so when you have that faraway look in your eyes.

[I’m not sure what’s in this little head to tell me something like that.]

“M’just saying.” You add, not wanting to break into giggles at his face.

Miguel shakes his head, closing his eyes and kissing your forehead. His arms cage you, bringing you to him as he lays on his back. Resting on his chest, a soft spot inside you, a bruise of some sort, aches when you see how at peace Miguel is. Your head lies in your crossed arms to watch him.

***

(You’re sitting on the bed, grabbing bunches of sheets to keep warm. The back of your hand rubs your eyes while you spare a glance at Miguel’s back. Broad, hunched over, sighing. You’re mesmerized— as if he hadn’t just made you see stars every time you close your eyes.

Miguel always chases your gaze whenever he talks you through it; he loves eye contact, knowing you’re as desperate as he is. A carnal yearning you both seem to exchange, but it was nothing like the way his lips just missed yours just after you both came. You almost went into shock when that potential kiss met the corner of your mouth.

“Miguel,” He looks over his shoulder at you. “I’m fine. More than fine, you know, but for real— I’m okay.”

“I know.” Miguel breathes and looks away. “I was just worried for a second.”

He’d been having a rough week, and his visit was overdue. Eagerly, you encourage him to let it all go with you. However, that kiss— or, more appropriately, the helpless effort that ended in his lips smearing grunted praises against your cheek— was born from something that had been there long before rough weeks and missed priority calls. In the moment it happened, you were tempting him: lips plush and parted, hands cradling his face, folded beneath him, pliable and taking him sweetly. After he missed your mouth, it snapped for him, and he nearly lost control of his driving thrusts.

The truth drives him mad, seen now as he feared almost hurting you from his desire. Nothing new but pent-up frustration— regardless, I’m sorry, baby.

Your hand reaches for his back, palming his shoulder when he jumps at your touch. “Don’t apologize, Mig. You’ve never done anything I couldn’t take.”

Miguel takes your hand and kisses it, lacing his fingers with yours. He looks back at you and wonders what he’s done right in a world of mistakes, rushed judgment, and unfinished ambitions. That tired smile of yours shucks off all that burden.

“If you say so.” He leans over to kiss your temple.

You don’t even need to tug him over— he’s already got his hands on you when you reach for his other shoulder. He looks at you all over, but for you, nothing misses your trained eye. The gentle bob of his throat, the twitch of his lips, the way his posture falls when you take his hand into both of yours. He can do so much with those hands, and you know that very well; Miguel gives, gives, and gives, not knowing where he starts and when to stop. But you’re different.

As weightless as you make him feel, his slumped shoulders still make him look tense. Your voice comes out impossibly soft when you utter the following words: “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

And his guard lets down.

“Took some of your advice, and I’ve been fixing a lot of machinery because I figured it’d be a relief to fix it myself— you know, because I built everything. But that meant all the technicians went overboard with their questions, asking me why I didn't do this or why I did that.”

You wince as you trace his palm and each finger. An innocent effort to take his mind off things, only to be overwhelmed by the technicians.

“Peter B always has his baby at every meeting. I’m in the middle of briefing everyone, and suddenly, you hear him talking to her in a baby voice.” He groans, recalling Peter’s sickly sweet voice.

You giggle, imagining Miguel getting upstaged by a baby’s cooing. It’s not the first time he’s complained about that; it doesn’t take much for him to explain himself, as you’ve been an ear to many of the same problems more than once.

Miguel sighs, but it slips by you. He gets distracted watching you fixate on his talons. A few seconds of silence makes you look at him, blinking when Miguel stares back.

“And?” You say. Miguel looks down again.

He shakes his head as he watches his talons poke through. Not much else is on his mind except you. Just you.

“Nothing else. I’m just enjoying this too much right now.” He chuckles.)

***

It’s funny how quickly Miguel forgets that there’s a world outside your home, let alone the multiverse. Every time he recalls this particular night, it feels like a dream, curled in the sheets of your bed, the quiet staccato of rain hitting the window, watching you drift into sleep under the warmth of your hand resting atop his heartbeat.

The first time he stayed the night.

From the start, he never left immediately. Inconsiderate, he stated matter-of-factly. Then it became, I’m supposed to just leave you after we did that? And more recently, in that deliciously exhausted voice, Make some room for me, sweetheart.

Miguel has not done many things right, and he thinks it’s been a while since he’s done something for his own good. He looks at you in his peripherals, lying on your stomach beside him and messing with his hand, and you look— no one can be this beautiful. Is this too good to be true?— soft. Young. Peaceful.

He’s seen you do the same ritual with his hand during aftercare. Flattening his hand against yours, the other nestling it below, fingertips walking across knuckles, drawing circles and forgotten patterns on his palm, thumbing the calloused spots and scrutinizing the lines. Oh, during that part especially.

When your eyes sharpen, concentrating on this process, it reminds him of a palm reader. Sometimes, you talk him through your day or some nonsense that’s also been on your mind when you do this. Yet, Miguel feels nervy under the intensity of your gaze; his heart is dangerously close to punching through his chest, floored when the right poke causes his talons to show. Imperceptibly, he grins when they retract and rise with every jab.

“Can I kiss you?”

Now and always, nonplussed and wide-eyed in the cozy light of your bedroom, you’re precious to him. So wonderful that it makes whatever words would have followed mangle in his throat, makes his heart ache. You look at his claws thoughtfully, slowly lowering your brows and melting when he clasps his hand with yours.

You stare at his lips for a moment. “You want to kiss me again.”

So you haven’t forgotten about that miserable attempt. Miguel huffs, feeling his ego throb when he remembers that blunder. He’s a sore loser with the smile of a winner.

“Yeah, kiss you again.” He says again like he’s mocking you a little.

Maybe it’s because you didn’t expect him to ask, cringing with a giggle when you remember that kiss. This is perhaps Miguel tightrope walking on a confession, but there’s a safety net below, and when he falls, it’s clumsy but with no risk. A free fall of sorts. He knows this isn’t the best way to ask— the romantic and mushy way— but that’s okay. More than okay, actually, as he grins at the flicker of something impossible playing out in your eyes.

He turns on his side, leveling a finger at your lips, prodding at the edges. “Can I try again?”

You’d love it if he did. Quietly, you speak, “Okay.”

And then it happens too quickly. It’s not fair— the rumble of his chuckle meeting your mouth startles you, unprepared for a fleeting second until you swallow the surge of your stomach and kiss Miguel back.

It’s not any better for him either; his heart goes at a rabbit’s pace, running in circles and thrashing in his ribcage. Burning at the back of his neck, he fears he’ll singe your hand holding him there. He’s touched you before (in every sense of the word), but he restrains all teeth and nails against that soft sound you make.

Miguel is back to that night again— rain pattering outside, some forgotten playlist crooning amid sheets and pillows, watching you: a dream. He adores you, like observing something magical and unknown beneath a glass dome, reverent and precious. Then, his breath staggers when you part his lips with the tip of your tongue.

Your back meets the cold sheets when he hovers over you, arching into him, forcing the lines of your body to converge and connect with his. Any closer, and you’d be able to crawl into his skin. This all-consuming want that blazes everything in its path needs no kindling in the hearth of your bed. He catches on quickly, hand hooking on the small of your back, implacable and firm. When your fingers card through the tousled mess of his hair, giving it a tentative pull, Miguel groans and murmurs some honeyed nonsense against the base of your throat. It comes out runny and from the same rumbling laugh that caught you off-guard at the start of this.

Miguel is certain he’ll die here. He’s breathless seeing the wet pink of your mouth, then stuttering when you smile. You give him no other response than that smile, along with a laugh that makes his heart soar and stomach dive. All he can do is bring that smile to his, over and over and over again.

i’d love to take any requests/asks! thank you for reading <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jack, Malleus: Beasts, us Both

Alright, TWST... you friggin' troll 😭 You got me good with those Jack frames... No wolf inspo reveal, I see how it is-- 😂

Because of the angle we're staring at the image from... that macaron Jack is holding looks like a massive GMO green grape… AM I JUST SEEING GRAPES EVERYWHERE BECAUSE OF R*LLO... This would mark the first Disney100 art with some notable changes (how he’s holding the macaron and the angle he’s bending at), most likely to make it look better for a card layout.

A Tale as Old as Time.

A young lion prince and his hornbill attendant were captured in a photo frame. With finger-like feathers, the bird had plucked a strand of fur from the large cat. He lacked amusement, beak poised in a manner that suggested a light telling-off. The cub, for his part, looked upset at the lecture.

That’s right, lions don’t grow their manes out until they’re older.

Jack sometimes forgot that—with his dorm leader prowling around, the most prominent image he had of a lion was that of Leona. Strong, cunning, and self-assured. Nothing like the prince in the painting.

“How cute,” a low voice drawled. “To think that Kingscholar too was once this small and helpless… Fufufu.”

Jack’s eyes cut to the tall, dark man next to him. With long limbs and regal horns protruding from his head, Malleus Draconia resembled a gazelle.

“It’s hard to imagine Leona-senpai like that,” Jack awkwardly confessed. “I met his nephew once, but that only took me more out of it. He was… energetic and bright.”

“Implying that Kingscholar is lacking in energy and a cheerful disposition?” Malleus smirked. “Ah, yes. Much change occurs between childhood and adulthood, some of it attributed to social influences. That child had best be cautious. Perhaps Kingscholar’s attitude will rub off on him, smothering that sunshine.”

“Leona-senpai has his good points too!” Jack blurted out. He didn’t catch himself in time—the words just came, a reverberating bark in the museum.

“Oh? You’re rather quick to defend him.”

The wolf beastman gasped and reeled himself back in. “Y-You don’t see it because you’re not in Savanaclaw, but I can tell… Leona-senpai cares about his students a lot. He’s looking out for us in his own way.”

“Such as when he attempted to have me trampled?” Malleus suggested, his tone quiet yet challenging. “I do so fondly remember that.”

“Urk!!” Jack’s ears flattened. “He does take it too far sometimes. I don’t agree with everything he does. The idea of doing everything you can to protect others, though… that’s something I can understand.”

"It is?”

The first year nodded firmly. “There are stories about wolves working together to chase off invaders who wandered into their snowy territory. Once, a wolf family even took in an orphaned kid. I have my own younger siblings to look after, too.”

“It appears as though you and your ancestors feel a strong sense of duty to your packs,” Malleus noted. Something akin to amusement danced in his eyes. It quickly flickered out, giving way to a deep melancholy. “Family… Hmm. I cannot say I can relate. I have no siblings to speak of. There is my grandmother, but she is my only living relative."

There was a shift—a small, imperceptible change in Jack's stoic face.

"... Sorry to hear that."

"Think nothing of it." Malleus waved a dismissive hand. "The circumstances are as they are. We cannot rewind the threads of fate, only weave new ones.

"Still, it is strange. I have not had the chance to meet my mother nor my father. They were already gone long before my hatching. I should feel no attachment to such strangers. Even so, I feel as though something is missing without them."

He gave a dark chuckle, curling fingers over his heart. "Perhaps there is a part of me that longs for that kind of a family, too."

Jack frowned. His chest throbbed with a dull pain.

“That's..."

Sad.

No brothers, no sisters. No parents, not even aunts or uncles or cousins. Just one big, empty castle, and the creature caged inside of it.

Pacing past ruined wings, furniture strewn about as if a mad beast had run through it in a frenzy. The space filled with loneliness, a hollow feeling that couldn't be fended off.

He shuffled his feet. Resolve slowly solidified. Jack reached for his voice.

"... I don't think you need to worry, Malleus-senpai. You still have people who care about you. Family isn’t all in the blood." Jack bashfully rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes averted. "It's in the bonds too."

He gestured to the painting before them. "The lion prince lost his dad, the previous king. In grief, he ran away from home--but he still had friends that guided him when he was lost and scared. A warthog, a meerkat, a baboon, a hornbill, the lionesses in his pride. They all came together to show the prince he was loved and needed. Because of that, he was able to come home with his head held high."

Jack clenched a hand into a fist, offering a stiff smile. "Family's something that everyone has, one way or another. They're the ones who always have your back, blood or not.”

Malleus’s face momentarily lit up with surprise.

“My, I didn’t expect to hear such a motivational speech from you. I hear from Sebek that you’re quite standoffish.”

“D-Don’t get me wrong!!” he sputtered, face heating. “On any given day, I’d tackle things on my own. But doing that all the time is pointless.”

“Which is why you choose to follow Kingscholar’s leadership?” Malleus asked teasingly. “You seem to admire him a great deal and acknowledge him as the leader of your pack here at Night Raven College.”

“N-No!!” Jack snapped. “Th-There are just some things I’m not strong enough to do by myself, times when I have to team up with others for a common goal!! Until the day I have the strength to act completely on my own…!”

Malleus laughed softly, his lips lifting into a mysterious curve. "Be at ease, Howl. You needn’t be so defensive. I see your point with crystal clarity.”

“You… You do?”

“That is correct.” The dragon prince’s eyes creased. “You, who seeks strength, shall surely find it—and with that strength, you will not be daunted from protecting what is most precious to you, family and friends alike. You’ve helped me to realize the same. We are both the same kind of beast, fufu.”

Jack took one look at Malleus’s ominous smile and shuddered. It could have decimated the stars, wiping out all the light in the night sky in one fell swoop.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing…”

He glanced back at the painting of the lion prince and the hornbill advisor. The distress on the cub’s face suddenly resonated with him.

Jack groaned.

It looks like I still have a lot to learn.

[mqverick]

your woman || ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

mature themes, 18+

very detailed smut, dni if you’re a minor

“just use me up and then you walk away

boy, you can’t play me that way”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

Every time Charlie Babbitt opened his mouth, it seemed like a never-ending awards ceremony was on, a lazy smirk living permanently on the corners of his lips. It was as if the idea of someone questioning him was both amusing and absurd. Charlie’s ego was so immense, it practically had its own gravitational pull. It was the sun in his universe, with everything and everyone else relegated to mere planetary status.

If the work didn’t pay well, you wouldn’t had bared a single second next to him, leaving to finally rest at your home with his excessively loud yelling still ringing in your ears, the annoyed sighs, the rude commands. To sum things up, Charlie Babbitt was the kind of man to drive you insane even if you were walking on sunshine.

It surprised you when he first announced that he’d preferred little old you over Lee to come along with him on a business trip in Palm Springs.

The response that rolled on the tip of your tongue at first was a big fat no. Why on earth would you want to spend an entire weekend with that nerve wrecking boss of yours when you could just enjoy the rewarding silence and comfort of your own home? But then again, when Charlie had his mind set on something, he stuck with it until the end.

In other words, whether you liked it or not, you were going on a little ‘getaway’ with him. Turned out, though, that his plans got disrupted by the sudden death of his father, forcing him to take a turn and drag you along to Cincinnati, where the funeral was taking place. You found out later on in the car that Charlie wasn’t the biggest fan of his father due to the lack of emotion he showed throughout the ride. You didn’t care to ask, simply letting out an annoyed groan every now and then to piss him off even further.

For four hours, you were participating in a scoff contest with him, winner would be the one with the longest, most pained sigh. Things got even worse — if possible — after Charlie spoke to the family lawyer about his inheritance, which was as disappointing as getting to work for him all day long. Couple of rose bushes and a stupid car.

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie, can you quit complaining about everything?” you yelled at him after deciding that you’d had about enough.

“Quit complaining?” he repeated, looking at you as if you were a lunatic. “Tell you one story. Just one. You know that convertible out front? My father loved that car more than he loved his family. It’d always been off limits to me. Tenth grade, I’m sixteen and for once I bring home a report card and it’s almost all straight A’s.”

You glanced at him, impressed with the statement, whistling out a low ‘ooh’. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Babbitt,” you commented and he had to break the eye contact for a minute, flushed with embarrassment and a light blush.

“Don’t look so damn surprised, Jesus. So, I go to my dad. Can I take the guys out in the Buick? A victory drive, you know. Says no, but I sneak it out anyway, take the keys. We’re on the Lakeshore Drive; four kids — and we get pulled over. He’d called in a report of a stolen car, not his son took the car out without permission. Just… stolen.”

“I’m getting bored of your sob story.”

“Shut up, will you?” he gritted through his teeth, sighing when you faked a yawn to demonstrate how deeply nonchalant you felt about his story.

“Get to an end, it’s been years.”

“Cook County Jail. Other guys’ dads bail ‘em out in an hour. He left me there two days. Drunks were throwing up everywhere, psychos eyeing me up… That was the only time in my life I was gut scared. Shit-your-pants fucking terrified. Left home, never came back and here I am.”

By the end of his memory, Charlie was trying to choke back a couple of tears that burned through his blurry eyes. His back was turned to you, he hated getting weak, felt as though the Trojan walls he’d built to keep up his mental strength had been bombed, collapsing into crumbles.

You said nothing — couldn’t bring yourself to. You weren’t used to being around that Charlie, had no idea how to react. Under normal conditions and had you not despised his guts, you would’ve hugged him so tightly that the air would get knocked out of his lungs, but it felt wrong, inappropriate for the moment. You settled for a tight-lipped smile instead, standing up and grabbing the second pillow from the bed, tucking it under your arm along with a blanket.

“Looks like you need the bed more than I do.”

Not even a goodnight. He didn’t bother to say another word to you either, so you called it a night, hugging the uncomfortable pillow closer to your head as you shivered under the blanket, wishing that you could’ve gotten the bed instead of the couch. Charlie deserved it that night, though. It was probably the least you could do for him, seeing as your way with words wasn’t exactly a delight. Sleep wasn’t on your side either.

Spent a couple of moments tossing around in agony, until you eventually decided to get up, blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you rummaged through the library in the living room, encountering a photo album. You looked around in the room, making sure that Charlie was still in his room and placed the heavy album on your lap, carefully turning the pages.

Charlie at four years old. Then a bit older, standing alone in the picture, scrawny chest, baggy trunks. You had to stifle a chuckle, the pictures of younger him amusing you.

───

You both woke up early the next day, wind blowing through your hair as Charlie drove to the beneficiary down at the Lynwood Home. Just some stuff I have to wrap up for my dad’s estate, was the only explanation he gave you as he turned down the narrow road, clearing the crest of a hill now, a huge white building coming into view. A country estate, you reckoned.

Charlie continued toward it, approaching a man painting at an ease near the side of the road, shielding whatever he was working from the view by having his back turned to you.

“Excuse me, that place up there is the Lynwood Home, isn’t it?” But the man didn’t acknowledge Charlie in any way and you had to hold back a chortle. Nevertheless, he continued his way into the building, asking you to wait for him outside (wouldn’t take long, he said) as he sorted out the beneficiary issue that seemed to taunt him.

Not being in a mood for arguing, you did as you were told, patiently sitting in your seat as you shuffled through the radio station, trying to find a catchy song to listen to. You gasped in surprise when the sudden presence of a man sat next to you at startled you out of your boredom.

“Hello, can I help you?”

No response.

His hands were firmly grasped around the steering wheel as he started intently at it. Didn’t move at first, just stayed still for a couple of seconds before he began murmuring something that you couldn’t really make out. You tried to get him out of the car, but he flinched as if your touch was scorching against him in every intention of pushing him away. At some point, you gave up and hoped the man would leave when Charlie would come back, otherwise he was bound to hearing it from him very loudly.

Which indeed happened when he finally returned, rudely asking the poor guy to get going. Raymond, as you found later he was called, had other plans though. Apparently — and it came as much as a shock to you as it came to Charlie — he was his brother. Son of Sanford Babbitt.

Raymond Babbitt, who was kidnapped in some sort of way by Charlie, claiming that Dr. Bruner had suggested that he took his brother on a little trip. You knew that was just his usual bullshit talk, though, but tried to keep it down your throat, focusing more on helping Ray relax. He was mouthing stuff that made no sense, spelling out Vern and memorizing TV dialogues — he looked and sounded stressed and it made you want to hit Charlie’s breaks so abruptly that he’d crash his stupidly air floated head into the front shield of the car without the slightest hint of a warning.

Fucking California.

You found yourself in a crappy motel he’d rented in California for the night. Raymond was upset, so out of his comfort zone and familiar routine and places, sitting alone in his room as Charlie wandered back and forth all over the rooms while making calls back to Lee, informing him that he needed to put a pause in the business for a bit.

How insane was he exactly again?

“You’re a horrible fucking person, you know that?” you muttered lowly into his ear as you mustered a warm smile to his brother, opting to make whatever the hell of an experience that was at least enjoyable for him.

“You have no place in this.”

“No? Last time I checked you’ve been dragging me back and forth your stupid trips like I’m some sort of forgotten luggage.”

“That’s it — lights out, Ray Ray,” Charlie exclaimed in a forced enthusiastic voice as he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you outside, closing the door to Raymond’s room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Get a fucking taxi and leave! I’m not going to give you explanation on what I do in my personal life,” he whispered-yelled at you, stalking across to his own room as you followed him, pissed.

“He’s your brother! You’ve kidnapped the poor guy, have been nothing but a dick to him and all that for what? Go apologize to him, tell him that first thing tomorrow morning you’re taking him back to the beneficiary,” you ordered him in the same tone he used at you.

Charlie shielded his eyes, running his palms down across his cheeks as he let out a long, dramatic sigh, burning holes through your head with his malicious glaring. “The fuck that’s happening! He’s a freaking pain in the ass, obviously I’m not going to tuck him in and kiss his forehead goodnight — I’m not his mother.”

“You’re his kid brother, Charlie. For crying out loud, he needs you, the least you can do for him is show some respect. It’s not his fault he doesn’t understand the world the same way you and I do,” your voice softened just a tad, trying to keep the noise down for Raymond not to hear. “He’s your big brother, could be someone to look up to—”

Charlie glared down at the floor, fighting of his temper. He shook his head — could be even be hearing to your nonsense? “What’s going on in my life is none of your fucking business and you get no chance to go around giving advice.”

“Fine, be the shitty piece of burning crap you are then, I couldn’t care less. But you owe me explanation on why you brought him here. What are we even doing in California?”

Charlie collapsed on the foot of his bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to keep him. I’m pissed off at him…”

“What is that even supposed to mean? Pissed off at Raymond? What has he done to you?”

“No, at my dad. I need to get what’s mine, okay? He left Ray a shit ton of money and… You heard what Lenz said, okay? He doesn’t even understand the concept of money — my dad preferred to leave him three million dollars, up until every last dime, he fucking despised me.”

You blinked slowly, trying to absorb all of this.

“You’re telling me you’re treating Ray like he’s some sort of your property for money? Where the fuck do you get off, Charlie — you’re disgusting!”

You stalked past him in the bedroom, storming off as you slammed your hands on each side of your head in disbelief. You heard him get up from the bed, catching up with you as he snatched your arm and turned your body towards his own.

“You don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes right now, okay? Look, I need you… I need you here, this is all very confusing for me and—”

“For you?! What about Ray? Is anyone’s life even worth anything to you? No, wait, everything has to be about you only! What do you even need me for, huh? Babysitting, pussy, more money? I’m fucking leaving, I don’t want to be involved in your little freakshow,” you were screaming now, unable to hold yourself back as your finger stabbed toward the wall to punctuate your points.

“What’s my crime here?” Charlie continued, as if he was clueless to the entire situation. You wished you could just start punching sense into his head.

“Your crime is that you use people. You’re using Ray, you’re using me, you use everyone you son of a bitch. I hope your money goes into your fucking grave when you—” out of the blue, his mouth was covering yours with force, hands clutching into your shoulders as he tried to keep you steady against him, eyes squeezed shut.

You recoiled, unable to gauge any reaction out of your body, but let him continue bringing more heat into the moment, eventually getting you to start moving your lips against his, matching the urgency he initiated. When Charlie pulled away, your brain was still foggy, struggling to catch your breath, which seemed to be an issue for him too.

“You wouldn’t shut up,” he explained in a raspy voice. It’d just hit him what he’d done; kissing you, kissing the person that he swore he hated. It was true, though, he’d only done it to get you to stop talking, your angry statements about his screwed up plans causing him to lose control.

Your eyebrow raised upwards in slight confusion and effort of comprehending that Charlie’s lips had been on yours just a moment ago and you’d never felt so good, so complete before in your life. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against the wall behind him, hearing him let out a chocked gasp, which for some reason sent a tingling sensation through your lower body. The second kiss was firmer, more passionate, because this time, you both knew exactly what was happening, it was consensual and Charlie’s crotch was pressing so beautifully against your thighs that you felt as if you were high. His hands were going through your hair, messing it up completely as he explored the rest of your face too, fingers gently cupping your cheeks for a brief second, before they dipped into the curves of your waist.

You arched against his touch, biting down on your lip as his mouth now moved below, leaving a trail of rushed wet kisses through your jawline. You felt him smirk against your neck as he softly dragged his teeth against your soft spot, licking and sucking, applying just the right amount of pressure to hear your muffled noises of pleasure.

“Ray—Raymond is in the next room,” you breathed, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan when you felt his index finger graze your underboob through the material of your thin blouse.

“He doesn’t understand this, he’ll probably think we’re fighting,” Charlie replied to you as he surfaced from the side of your collarbone to pepper small, quick pecks on your lips.

“We are fighting.”

“Good, shut up and fight me more then.”

You melted against him as he guided you backwards into the bedroom, dipping your chin over the slope of his shoulder as he held your weight, stumbling as your back accidentally hit against the corner of the door, making you wince. You didn’t care, though, pushing the door shut as Charlie pressed you against it with a loud thud. You lazily wrapped your legs around his lower waist, but his grip on your ass was strong enough to support you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, absentmindedly tugging at it and eliciting a somewhat loud moan from him that made your entire system shudder, embarrassed at how wet you were growing just by making out. “Fuck, Charlie — bed now.”

He obliged, laying you on the bed as he pulled his already half unbuttoned shirt off, fighting back a cocky smile when he noticed you impatiently unclasp your bra under your blouse. He towered over you, falling gently on top your shoulder as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses on your flesh. He had full consciousness of the effect he was having on you, finding it incredibly hot.

“God, you’re so…” he trailed off, hoping you hadn’t heard him. Truth was, Charlie had always been captivated by your beauty, convinced himself that there wasn’t another person in the planet that was half as gorgeous as you were.

He placed a tender kiss on your lips and helped you take your blouse off, giving you a moment to breathe before getting lost into the V-line between your breasts. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your mouth when the tip of his tongue made contact with your cold skin, his hums and groans vibrating through it.

The man who you’d been at odds with was tracing his digits dangerously close to the hem of your underwear and it all felt like the glimpse of embarrassment from having wet fever dream that pleased you more than any other human touch.

“I still think you’re the worst person I’ve met, by the way,” you muttered through tiny sighs, eyes closed as your fingers twisted around the bed sheets, hips suddenly jerking as you finally felt his hand hover over your scorching core through your trousers. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

“I think it’s rich that you’re giving me orders when I can just completely stop touching you and go to sleep while you’re whining like a mess,” Charlie replied, distancing himself from you in demonstration, walking right across the other side of the room to pick up his discarded shirt.

You were going to skin the bastard alive.

“Fuck you, Charlie, you’re a fucking brute, you know that?” you yelled in frustration, getting up from the bed and sprinting over to him, turning him around and crashing your lips against his, nails now digging painfully into the curves of his ripped back. Stealing each other’s air, you fell back into the bed again, pulling his trousers down and almost cumming when you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching against the fabric of his gray boxers, sort of visible due to the front patch that had gotten all wet and sticky from his precum.

You pulled at his hair, breaking the kiss to smile a little when you noticed that he was equally lost in the moment, biting on his bottom lip lustfully, looking at you through half-lidded eyes and beautiful blown pupils. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, while fumbling to take off more clothing pieces, needing to feel every inch of his skin pressed up against yours, giving you goosebumps. You’d never felt that way.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he winced as your nails dug so deep into his back’s muscles that they ended up leaving wound marks, fresh and sort of pinkish.

“Touch me or it’ll get worse,” you threatened, knowing that as he’d said earlier, you weren’t really in a place to be colourful with him. His tongue scraped the roof of your mouth as he ran a finger down your center, testing the waters over your underwear and smirking when he felt the heat of your soaked panties radiate against his digit. You were so ready for him and he hadn’t even began doing anything to you — his erection growing painful at the observation.

“You’re so hot for me, I haven’t even touched you yet, gosh,” he whispered through a strangled moan, mind hazy as he tossed your panties aside and finally slipped a finger inside of you. Your hips jerked in surprise, rocking against his hand, craving the friction, the urge to fill you up more.

You moaned embarrassingly loud when the tip moved in a hither motion, almost losing your shit. He didn’t take too long to add another finger, which only made it better for you as you took a quick glance at him through your lashes, butterflies gushing inside your stomach at the sight of him, all worked up, lips parted as small groans came out of them, eyes closed as he fought off the need to wrap a hand around his dick as well, get off to touching you.

“Charlie,” you cried out his name, hips rolling forward as his touch made contact with your bundle of nerves. His long fingers were hitting all the right spots inside of you and the combination of the still very burning anger for him and the little wet noises along with his grunts had sent you over the edge a lot faster than you’d expected.

The moment Charlie felt your walls clench around his fingers, he pulled them off, wiping them off on the fabric of his boxers as he muffled your frustrated whimper with a kiss, permitting his hand to touch himself over his boxers as you ground against his thigh, pulling him down on top of you. Off, you mouthed, looking at his underwear. The bastard was driving you insane, so you yanked them off when you noticed he had no intention to giving in to your requests, sliding them down his ankles. Your jaw almost dropped at the gates of hell when you saw him, needing a moment to take it all in. He was so pretty, so achingly ready to go inside you, the image alone was enough to make you cum, your previous upcoming orgasm still hanging around the air.

“What did I tell you earlier? We’re doing this my way or we’re not doing anything at all.”

“Fuck, please, just fuck me, Charlie, I can’t wait any longer,” you found yourself pleading, forgetting that just ten minutes ago you’d been on the verge of cracking his skull open.

His eyes scanned your naked body for a second and you scoffed, tilting your head in confusion.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he admitted lowly, face growing hot as if he wasn’t just about to raw your bones. He crawled closer to you, giving you a kiss before parting your thighs, muscles clenching as his tip teasingly grazed your entrance. He wanted to make you feel so good, have you remembering that moment all the nights you’d be alone at your house, be the man you’d compare all the other men to in bed.

Except Charlie didn’t want you to have any other men after that night. Hoped he’d be good enough to make you want more of him, perhaps stay the nights over, ask to sleep next to him after, if he was lucky and satisfying enough.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you before he could change everything between the two of you, already knowing what your reply would be.

“Yes, god, yes, be fucking done with it already,” you dragged out, dramatically impatient. Your head was thrown back the moment he slid fully into you, staying still for a bit in order for you to adjust. Both of you inhaled a sharp breath, eyes shutting closed as he lost his balance a little, the dizzying feel of finally getting to be embraced by the warmth of your walls causing his heart to beat faster than a sledgehammer against his chest.

“You feel so good,” he hoarsed, forehead connecting with yours as he absentmindedly leaned down to kiss your nose. When he moved, slowly thrusting forward, you swore you wouldn’t be able to last enough. His breath was hot against the cell of your ear, allowing you to hear every groan, every noise he made and it turned you on so much that it practically ached.

“Faster,” you ordered, rolling your hips as he began having a steady pace, sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the room as Charlie fucked you rougher and rougher, skin slapping. The bed was squeaking now, your one hand grasping for dear life onto the sheets as the other wrapped tightly around his waist, fingers dipped into the curve of his lower abdomen. You focused on his face again, your heartbeat racing as you noticed his front teeth poking out of his parted lips, finding it both adorable and incredibly sexy.

He’d stopped moaning, not wanting you to know how desperately he needed you, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he tortured himself silently. “You like that? Like how we’re fighting?”

“Shut up,” you cried out. The angle he was hitting inside of you was killing you, you wanted him deeper, impossibly much, needed him to split you in half. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Electricity jolted through your veins as he picked up pace, practically slamming into you now, the moans he’d tried to hold back in his throat coming out in a struggle. “‘M not going to last long,” he warned you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, hands cupping your cheeks with force.

“Cum inside of me.”

You really had no idea what you were doing to him, had you? Who — Charlie Babbitt — feeling his cock twist against your walls just by hearing you say you wanted him to cum in you. You had him in a chokehold, it was kind of ridiculous.

“Fuck, I—” he never got to finish what he was going to say in the first place, because you were trembling under his touch, overwhelmed by the speed and the fact that your worst fucking enemy was fucking you like you’d never been fucked before and it was all enough to send you over the edge for the second time that night, except now Charlie didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. You propped your chin upwards and caught his mouth in yours as you came, feeling him follow shortly after you, cum shooting inside of you in warm spurts as he fucked you through your orgasms, groaning loudly, body jerking.

Once both of you had reached your highs, he collapsed on top of your body, head buried into your shoulder as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, legs tensing. It eventually dawned on you that you just had sex with Charlie Babbitt.

“That was the hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had,” you confessed as he rolled off of you, laying next to your side as he chest rose in and out.

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable of saying much.

“I hate you.”

“You’ve got a really nice way of showing it.”

You kneed his thigh and he winced, still very fragile from the intensity of his orgasm. His hair was all sticky and sweaty, clung into his forehead, face flushed and red. You could orgasm all over again just by looking at him. “I believe we’ve traumatised your brother for life.”

“Worth it.”

“You’re taking him back tomorrow.”

“No, I’ve already told you—” you cut him off by kissing him, the tip of your tongue lingering against his bottom lip as you pulled him deeper into your mouth, hand tangling into his hair.

“You’re not the only one who gets to shut up others by kissing them. And if you ever want this to happen again, you’re going to do things my way from now on.”

And Charlie was just fine with that.

FIN.

tags: again, i wrote this for @honeymvnt so i hope you’ll enjoy reading this ml !! 🎀🫵🏼

[atom-writings]

hiii may i request leon kennedy x gn!reader whos shorter than him and an overall timid person?

(Leon Kennedy X Reader) Short, Shy S/O!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N SORRY GUYS THIS ONE IS GETTING COMPLETED IMMEDIATELY BCS THIS MAN OWNS ME RIGHT NOW GOOD LORD

Trigger Warning: Leon is a kind of unhealthy person but that's it.

Leon would be a bit nervous to start a relationship with someone who comes off as so fragile. It seems like everyone around him is destroyed or killed in some way, and imagining that happening to you… god, he can’t let that happen. You’re so innocent. Too innocent. Not the type of person that belongs with him. You deserve better.

And because of those horrible thoughts, you’re unfortunately gonna have to make the first move. Horrible, right? He may be confident around everyone else, but you make him so goddamn nervous. The thought of pulling your pretty little face up to meet his, finally giving into what his body desperately wants… it’s a thought that plagues his mind. And if you wait long enough, he might just have to live out that fantasy. Even though he’s gonna try to avoid you for as long as possible afterwards.

But once you’ve worked it out, and he’s finally gotten over his anxiety surrounding you, he’s a great boyfriend. He’s already protective of everyone close to him, but with you, it’s kicked up to another degree. Even on days when he struggles to get out of bed, he asks to accompany you everywhere. Seriously, you’d think that the shy one in the relationship would be more clingy, but nope. Not with Leon.

It gets like… really annoying. He’s obsessed with keeping you safe, at any cost. But it’s like… his trauma response is projected onto you. Anything that goes wrong is gonna get solved pretty quickly by him, regardless of whether you want him to do so or not. 

Even if you ask him to stop, it’s always gonna be in the back of his mind. But that’s not to say he can’t back off. He absolutely can! He’s so obsessed with protecting your feelings, once you tell him HE’S the one stressing you out, he’ll stop (and his heart will break a little.)

Oh yeah, and he’s totally the type of guy to purposely put things up too high for you. Hearing you ask for his help opening a jar he closed too tight gives him a strangely large amount of joy. But he really just likes being useful.

 Everything in his life has been so harsh and so horrible, but you’re a light in the dark. Whenever you stutter or struggle to speak up, he can’t help but melt. Even your more “””annoying””” shy traits do nothing but make him love you more.

If you ever wanna leave somewhere early, he’s completely ready to head out too. If you don’t wanna hang out with anyone except him and like one other person, he’s cool with doing the same. Even stuff like ordering food for you, he has no problem with. He’s really just glad you’re satisfied with such a low-key life. After everything that’s happened… all he needs is domesticity.

Someone so withdrawn with someone so brash… who would’ve guessed how well it’d work?

[leaentries]

jack hughes x chubby!reader headcanons

a/n- this has been a long time coming. also i want to apologize i’ve been kinda MIA recently, i’ve just been super busy with life!

SFW & NSFW under the cut!

SFW

i’ve discussed this briefly, but i think jack found his love for the chub on accident.

like he never thought he’d be into it, until next thing he knows, he can’t get enough of your rolls and curves

thinks they are so warm and squishy

loves to nestle and bury his face in your plushy tummy cause it’s just so so soft and comfy. definitely the type to lay all his weight on you and take a nap for hours.

you are his favorite place to sleep, so get used to it. he will actually just fall asleep on you everywhere, and i mean everywhere.

he loves your boobs. and everything about them.

how squishy and warm they are, how even though they don’t fit right or look perfect in everything you wear they still somehow manage to poke out a bit. he is super into the way they spill out slightly near the crease of your arm and shoulders. he’s so weak for your tits, bro.

sometimes if you are wearing a low-cut shirt or tank top and your boobs are showing he will literally just poke them

same goes for the cute rolls on your sides. dude loooooves them side rolls. he loves to grab, poke, squeeze, squish, bite, you name it.

his favorite thing is to sneak up behind you and grab your sides and tickle you, what an asshole.

being able to do little domestic things with you has his heart doing flips. like being able to buy groceries with you, cooking you dinner (when he tries), cleaning the apartment, he loves it all

he especially loves being able to wake up with you in the morning. the way your body keeps him warm. he’ll grab your round hips and pull you into his frame as far as you can possibly be. the type of guy to want to crawl into your skin, yk?

he’s just such a softie cuddly love bug when it comes to you. he can go from 😠 to 🥺😍 in a matter of seconds when you walk into the room

although we ALL know that he isn’t just a softie. baby boy knows how to fight. aho can attest to that firsthand.

i dare anyone to say anything bad about you in front of him, he’s immediately jumping to defend you. let someone say something to him on the ice? he’s dropping the gloves and helmet immediately.

his mood depends on your mood. if you’re not happy, he’s not happy. if you’re cranky, he’s cranky. he will do anything to see you happy and see your cute chubby cheeks light up with that gorgeous smile he lives for.

NSFW

as i’ve already established, he loves your tits.

so it’s only natural that he’s very big into playing with your boobs during any kind of sexual act.

BOOB JOBS. he will lose it in 30 secs. ngl he used to get embarrassed about how quickly your boobs could make him cum, until he realized the power trip it gave you and how good you felt that you could do that to him with just your tits.

but don’t worry, just the sight of your heavy breasts covered in his release is enough to get him hard again.

his favorite position is cowgirl. i know, i know, cliche. BUT he gets to feel all your weight on top of him AND see your tits bounce in his face. dude is in heaven.

he loves to hold your hips in place and fuck up into you 😋 he’s just so silly like that

#1 goal is to get you so fucked out to the point where you can’t hold yourself up anymore and collapse into him cause he just loves the feeling of your soft rolls against his stomach and chest.

hickeys, hickeys, and more hickeys. wants to cover you in head to toe with them. disclaimer- you better invest in a good concealer

[cyberrat]

81st Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill

Husk/Angel – Part 2/2 – gentle dom/sub; dom!Husk; sub!Angel; learning to let go/get into subspace – Angel actually experiencing a first? That's fun :o

---

Husk is eating him out. Again. And somehow it is even better than last time.

This time, Angel is on his back – something he is very familiar with – and doesn’t have to do anything other than let Husk play with his body. Something that is also not uncommon. But the way he does it… the way he just keeps licking him, slow and self-indulgent and humming while he is doing it like Angel is such a fucking treat-

It is driving him insane.

He keeps licking at him until he’s somehow had his fill and then he lifts up and just stares at Angel until Angel looks back down. He feels like his eyes are huge and wild in his skull. Like he must look absolutely insane. His upper hands are pressed against his mouth, trying to muffle any sounds that keep wanting to spill out of him.

Husk is smiling crookedly. The fur on his chin is soaked and glittering with pearlescent fluid. Angel stares at it, his hands slowly falling away without him noticing. His mouth his hanging open and his tongue is rolling out onto his own chin.

Maybe Husk sees it as the invitation that it is – or he just knows what Angel needs without having to be told. But he crawls up Angel’s body and plunges him in darkness as his wings blot out the light.

A moment later, they are kissing. Slow and indulgent. Angel’s arms curl around the tomcat, holding on to him like a vice. His tongue wants to do all kinds of acrobatics, but Husk gentles him down until it’s just the painfully slow drag of them rubbing against each other.

Angel’s whole body throbs. His knees are around Husk’s hips, unwittingly hindering himself from rubbing his thighs together.

He’s getting absolutely useless. He can feel his last brain cells and how they slowly stop working just because Husk is taking everything at a glacially slow pace.

Husk is kneeling above him, his paws on Angel’s ribcage between his first and second set of arms, and slowly sliding up. Over his armpits and the underside of Angel’s upper arms. The sensation is so eerily intimate, it makes Angel gasp into the kiss, head falling back while his tongue is still out, obediently offering it up to Husk.

They stare at each other as Husk gently pushes his upper arms up to above his head.

“Are you feeling good?” Husk asks him in that low rumble.

Angel nods slowly, his head swimming – but this time it seems to not be enough for Husk. “Use your words,” he orders, his voice so gentle that it takes all the sting that the command might have carried.

Angel feels… odd. Like the bed is slowly opening up beneath him and starting to swallow him up. He is feeling both lighter and heavier than he ever has. A voice answers is a hushed little “Like it” and it takes him a while to realize that it’s been his own.

“Good boy,” Husk’s voice says in the slowly encroaching darkness.

Angel’s eyes are open and he is seeing, but he is not registering anything. He is both inside his body and outside. Feeling Husk carding claws through his chest fluff and lightly tugging on it, and also thinking that that is something that is happening to someone else.

Everything is warm and prickly and good. He is calm. He’s calmer than he’s ever been. As a demon. A human. A good-for-nothing whore.

“That’s it… you’re being so good for me,” Husk’s voice whispers. His claws are carding through the fur on Angel’s belly, following the pink line down to his abdomen. “You’re perfect like this. Looking like a million bucks.”

Does he? Does he really? Angel is staring up at the ceiling, his upper arms obediently still above his head without any need to hold him down. Husk is… somewhere. Everywhere. He’s started purring and it is almost too much for Angel to handle. It thrums through his body and vibrates behind his eyeballs until he has to close them. He’s drooling and his whole body is throbbing with the need to come.

“Do you know what good boys get?” Husk’s voice answers. It’s so deep and silky and perfect. It wraps Angel up like a damn blanket. He can’t wrap his head around how that is even possible. He opens his mouth a bit wider but all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper.

He feels so shy all of a sudden; all the bluster has been stripped away in just a few short moments, leaving him open and raw like a nerve.

Husk doesn’t say any more, though. His movements have stopped as well, hands framing Angel’s hips and thumbs gently stretching his posterior hole open without touching his rim. He is waiting for an answer.

Angel somehow unclenches one of his lower arms from the bedding and puts his hand up against his mouth. He doesn’t know… he doesn’t… “I don’t know,” he whispers.

“Hmmmn… good boys get all they’ve been gagging for for days,” Husk explains patiently. His breath is tickling Angel’s little spider cock. “They get the orgasm they’ve been fiending for. They get taken care of, like they’ve been desperate for the whole time.”

That rough tongue is back against Angel’s dick, curling around it, bathing it in warm saliva before it is enveloped by the warmth of Husk’s mouth.

He’s so careful with his sharp teeth… he’s so slow and indulgent, sucking the pre-cum out of Angel and opening his mouth to let the copious amount of fluid run down to his posterior hole.

Angel feels like he is dying again… but it feels good. Two claw like fingers slide into his hole while he is getting sucked off, and everything… everything is just so good. So warm and tight and wet and good.

He arches his back, sucking on his own fingers for comfort, limbs moving restlessly… and the most heartfelt little exclamation he’s spoken in… decades, dripping from his mouth: “Oh, daddy- please-”

Husk’s voice is back; all crooning and deep. Calling him a good boy. To let daddy take care of him. That he’ll get everything he ever wanted if he just stays nice and real like he is now.

If he just lets Husk flay him open and look at everything he has to offer.

Angel muscles seize tight as he comes so hard that his ears are filled with static. He is vaguely aware of the warm pulsating feeling of cum shooting out of him and splattering against his belly before Husk can push his muzzle over it and drink it all up-

but it takes a backseat to the feeling of weightlessness. To the delicious pain of his aching, trembling muscles. To the curious emptiness of his head that feels so much more profound than the one he gets from his drugs.

He doesn’t immediately come down from the curious high he’s on, but that’s alright. Husk is there to take care of him. Making him feel nice and cozy and… safe.

He says something about ‘subspace’ later, but that doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something Angel could achieve.

But fuck this feeling had been everything.

And… once again he got to get off with Husk without getting that goddamn cock inside him.

It’s going to drive him insane.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐒𝟏:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐𝟒

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

You wake up to the smell of breakfast. Your head hurts like a bitch. It feels like it had been stabbed repeatedly. As you hold your head in your hand, you sit up looking around the room.

Which is not yours.

You wobble once you stand on your feet and make your way over to the desk which has a note on it.

"I left some clothes for you to change out of, feel free to use anything you need. "

'These clothes are kind of uncomfortable.' You thought looking around for a wardrobe which are found almost instantly due to how big it was. Eventually, you pick out a T-shirt which ends up looking like a dress on you and some shorts.

Meanwhile, Kento is cooking downstairs, with his slightly undersized apron. He really needed to buy a new one. The man has already postponed many meetings and declined many calls whilst waiting for you to get ready. However, he can’t particularly blame you as he would have been just as slow with such a headache as well.

"Good morning Nanami." A voice behind him speaks, quite soft actually. You’re wearing a light blue t-shirt of his, one he’s not seen in a while.

" Morning." His voice came out tired and croaky. "I made you breakfast and here's some medicine."

" Wait, for me?"

Nanami doesn’t really understand why you would need a confirmation on what he just said, but he nodded anyway. A sheepish smile pulled on your lips as you sat down on top of the kitchen counter, swinging your legs back and forth.

He seems to be making bacon and eggs, but when he bends down towards the oven and pulls out a tray of muffins, you nearly choke on your water and you burst out laughing when noticing how restricting the apron was on him.

"Is everything alright what's wrong?" He asks in a panicked voice but you still continue laughing.  "What's so funny?"

"Why is your apron so tight?" You ask wiping your face and setting your cup aside.

" I keep forgetting to buy a new one and I rarely cook so its not really a urgent matter to me."

" I can tell," you remark "come here." Nanami walks towards you and you signal for him to turn around, which he does.

As you start to untie the knot he made at the back, you ask, " Soooo what happened last night?"

" A lot of things, you would not stop whining." A brief chuckle escapes his lips as he explains.

" What else did I say, I wanna know?"

"Do you really-"

"Yes"

You dropped your hands as he turned around to look at you. " How long?"

" What-"

" How long have you been thinking about me like that Y/N?" A silence passes as your eyes dart everywhere but him, it’s only after he places his hand on your thigh, that you start to respond.

" Long enough. Maybe too long."

His eyes grow dark as he mumbles out a low “Yeah?” His thumb moves in slow, teasing circles against your thigh. His eye contact is unwavering, leaving you in a daze, in a trance. All sense of self is thrown out of the window almost instantly at his touch, you turn into a puppet for him. His face is still achingly close to yours, and your self-discipline is running thin. This man is making you unhinged and he knows it. His newfound smirk returns again at the sight of you speechless, completely stunned. “I still haven’t gotten a response doll? Have you been thinking about me? Thinking about me touching you, kissing you… fucking you.” Your breath hitches in your throat from the intense tension. You nod compliantly, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes shamelessly stare at his, being too shy to make the first move. That is until Nanami decided to break the boundaries set by placing his lips on yours.

It feels euphoric and you almost forget how to breathe, his kiss turns you into mush and you melt into it. His kiss is slow and careful, almost as if he’s savouring every second of it, almost as if he’ll never kiss you again. His unoccupied hand cups face as you lean into the kiss, hungry for more. You’d be satisfied if the two of you only kissed for hours, but the heat between your legs says otherwise. Your hand grab a hold of his neck as the kiss picks up the pace. Subconsciously, your legs spread further as his hand climbs further and further up your thigh. “Eager now aren’t we? Who knew my assistant was like this?” He asks, he loops his finger around the hem of your shorts and pulls them down, revealing the top of your panties. Nanami lifts up his gaze directly into yours “ Can I?” he asks.

“Yes. Please.”

He swiftly pulls your shorts down revealing the damp, lewd mess in your panties. You were absolutely drenched. “Have I really got you this wet?” He asks, his index fingers pressing against it softly. Your face is on fire out of sheer embarrassment and your legs instinctually close. “No. None of that. I don't want you closing your legs do you understand?” He asks sternly, shimming your panties down your legs too. You nod at his request but the noin verbal confirmation isn't satisfactory for him. “Words princess, words.”

“Yes sir.”

Sir. His weakness. That phrase makes him almost carnal. Without another moment to waste, Nanami lays you back on the counter, connecting his lips to your body. Kissing every inching on it, worshipping you whilst his fingers begin to rub teasingly on your clit below. “So fucking perfect.” He says between each kiss, working his way down to your pussy. He places a long warm stripe up against it, and you arch, moan out a low, sensual moan. His tongue begins moving furiously on your clit, lapping up all your juices. Your hips roll against his tongue in urgency, the pleasure is unreal. The blond doesn’t stop there, your moans seem to be driving him to strive further to make you fall apart all on his tongue. Nanami places two of his thick fingers inside your fluttering hole, dying for attention, and begins thrusting them relentlessly. Your fingers fly into his hair and tangle in his golden locks, messing up his usually perfect hair, messing up his composed demeanour, revealing another side of him.

This new side of him has you arching and begging for him to stop, just for a moment. “ ‘M gonna come.” Your eyes screw shut tight and your toes curl as you resist the urge to come all over his face, you don’t want it to be over just yet. But Nanami doesn't hold out. He keeps sucking, licking, teasing and lapping you all up.

“I want you to come for me. Can you do that princess?” Nanami asks, momentarily stopping himself, rather unwillingly.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly, desperately wanting to return to the climactic high, though your boss doesn’t continue. You look down at him to see his eyebrow raised.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.”

Nanami burrows himself back into your warm, needy cunt, going at it incessantly. His nose nuzzles up against, your clit, the friction making you remind go fuzzy, the only thing on it was releasing. And you can feel it, the familiar knot in your stomach as you reach your high, as you get closer to satisfaction. “Fuck. I’m gonna come.” you cry out, your toes curl and with a couple more pumps with his fingers, you’re cumming. And you’re cumming hard. The warm liquid gushes out and onto Nanami’s fingers, coating them in your arousal.

A set of lips finds its way to your stomach, kissing every inch of it, making its way up to yours. Your lips are locked and suddenly you’re consumed by him all over again. Nanami’s arms wrap around your torso, lifting you off the counter and carrying you. Carrying up through the hallway, up the stairs and to the room he once left you in.

The two of you make it to the bed, where he sits on the edge of it, still holding onto you. You don't know whether it is because of the privacy or the fact that the rules have already been broken, but an unknown boldness rushes through you, and now you're initiating things. You just can't get enough of him. Running your hands up and don't his stomach before swiftly lifting his shirt over his arms. And for once, Nanami is silenced, watching you work intently, not wanting to do anything to shy you out of it. Your lips latch unto his neck, as you kiss and suck on it whilst grinding on his pressing hard-on.

“Take your pants off. ” you say to him before attaching your lips to his neck again with the aim of forming infamous love bites all over him. The man doesn't waste another second to pull off his sweats and boxers. You’re met with his burning, red leaky tip. The sight of his dick makes you nervous, it was just so “Big. It’s really big.” That’s definitely gotta hurt.

“Don’t worry.” he coos, using his hand to turn your head back around to look at him. “I’ll go slow for you. Okay?” His thumb brushes against your cheek reassuringly, to which you nod. “Here.” The man sits up before gently placing you on your back on the bed, finding a pillow to place underneath your back. Nanami walks over to a drawer, picks up and condom packet and rolls it on.

“Tell me went to go princess. ” he says, maintaining eye contact with you.

You nod and signal for him to “Put it in now.” Soon enough you feel the stretch, it‘s uncomfortable and you need a minute to adjust. You didn't expect him to reach so far back., for him to be so deep, yet once you’re comfortable you give him the green light. At first, he moves painstakingly slow, for your sake, then he picks up the speed. Thrusting in and out of you, repetitively. The feeling of his tip hitting your g spot every time, makes your mind go cloudy. It’s addicting. Nanami takes a firm grip on your hips before bottoming himself out in you. The speed at which he's going at it is insane and it doesn't give you a minute to think.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans as he pounds into you tirelessly, as he leans forward to place a grip on the headboard, towering over your frame. The bed starts to squeak against the floor as it shakes. Your mind goes foggy and hazy, the only thing you can think about is how pleasurable this all feels.

“Don’t stop, mhm, right there.” You cry out, letting your head roll back, your hands attempting to hold onto his wrists, something, anything. “Fuck I’m gonna come.”

“Gonna come for me princess?” He asks, his paces somehow managing to increase.

“Fuck yeah.” You cry out.

Nanami’s grip on you tightens as he focuses on reaching the end. A light layer of sweat forms around his brows as he pummels into you. Your moans get higher, your grip gets tighter and soon you’re cumming so hard you’re seeing stars. Nanami stays still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your warmth pulsating on his length, as he comes too.

You just fucked your boss.

taglist: @kodzukenmaaa @markleeisdabestdrug

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

A/N: It happened. I just wanted to say, thank you all so, so much for all these votes and reads on my stories, they really do mean a lot to me. I'm glad so many of you love my stories too. I've waited so long to write these last few chapters, especially after having to include all those fillers to space it out to make it 24 episodes. I'm glad you guys have also stuck with me after I take literal months to upload. Really sorry about that, I'm not that great at managing my time, but I am working on it. Make sure to keep your eyes peeled for Season Two and its release. In the meantime, I'll be posting one-shot smuts on my AO3 and on my Tumblr so you can go check those out. The usernames of those are in my bio. Also don't forget to check out my Spotify which has a playlist for this book as you read along. Again, thank you all so much for your support. I love you all.

[anjelicawrites]

The oak and the wind

Paring: Abraham x reader

Synopsis: Abraham comes and go in your life, and that’s all right

Warnings: kissing, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, kissing, biting, a dash of spanking.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

The rain is pelting against the window as the weather progresses from quiet to a violent spring storm that makes the wind howl through the trees around your cottage. On the ground floor the typewriter lays abandoned on the typing desk, the sentence you were working on half written when Abraham came knocking on your door.

You snuggle closer to his warmth trying to focus on his deep, slow breathing under your ear, to go back to sleep; the branches slapping against the windows have awoken you and Lord Morpheus evades you now.

You’re not sure when Abraham has arrived, he comes and goes like the wind, knocking on your door and then disappearing for months; it surprises you that he is sleeping by your side: he doesn't, usually, preferring to go back to his caravan. 

You wonder why he’s still in your bed, he’s not the kind of man to talk about himself, or his feelings, all you have to go is your hypothesis, and that’s fine: you’ve never expected anything more than this from Abraham. 

You know he cares, in his own way, by bringing you fresh wild game or chopping wood for you, but he’s never asked you to leave with him, even though you could, you’re an author, all you need is your typewriter and a fresh ream of paper. But that’s not who you two are, how you two operate: if he’s the wind, you’re the centennial oak with its roots firmly planted on the ground. 

You never wanted more from him than what he’s happy to give you, and it’s the same for him, who fully knows you can’t live without walls around you, and a roof and pipes and all the issues that come with living in a house.  

Quietly you slip from Abraham’s loose embrace; since the story in your head doesn't want to let you sleep, you opt to go downstairs and make yourself a cup of tea. 

You decide to wear only the dressing gown, spring has almost arrived and the storm hasn’t lowered the temperature drastically, plus you’re going to rekindle the fire that’s now just embers: that’s going to be enough when you’re going to sit on the old armchair with your notebook, curled in your knitted blanket. 

You still have ideas swimming in your brain, a whole chapter outlined, which you didn’t have the chance to write because Abraham popped up unexpectedly; unfortunately your typewriter is too noisy to be used without risking waking him up, tomorrow you’ll type everything down but you need this chapter on paper. 

Downstairs you don't even bother with the lights, the whole system is faulty and it doesn't work when it rains: another big expense that could be taken care of, if only your mother and her horrid second husband would stop playing the lord and lady of the mansion and downsize to a cottage, but no, you have the title and shoulder the expenses, but they need to keep up appearances. 

The kitchen is built where the windows into the property are, which give you the chance to stare into the dark as you wait for the water to boil.

“Why are you awake?”

Abraham’s sleepy voice has you jump out of your skin, a hand clutching the neck of the dressing gown as your heart tries to explode out of your chest.

“Abraham!” You shriek, still breathless.

He is midway down the stairs, he’s wearing only his briefs and his usually perfectly styled hair are now sticking everywhere, softening his stern visage, giving him a youthful and endearing appearance.

His naked feet slap on the ancient floorboards as he advances towards you, his hand scratches his muscled chest, marked with new ink you’ve haven’t traced yet with your fingertips. His tanned skin and the chain around his neck seem to glow in the low light of the fire and the candles, the blue of his eyes still clouded with sleep.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Abraham squints and you, to then shrug: he is used to the cold and your cottage is always too warm for his tastes. 

“You haven’t answered my question, love.”

He stalks towards you, wide shoulders and tick muscles, his powerful energy filling every corner of your home.

“I couldn’t sleep, the story doesn’t want to let me go.”

“I don’t know how you make it. Pull stories out of your brain.”

You stare at him, surprised, you two rarely talk about yourselves.

“I have no idea. No author does. We are merely the  puppets of the muse that’s playing with us.”

“You are making no sense.”

Abraham stares at you quizzically: you’re such an enigma when you talk about your job, if writing can be called that. Most of the time you sound like a maniac, or someone possessed, plus he’s seen you wander about the woods while reading, and how you don’t fall on your face is beyond him. 

You’re strange and different from everyone he knows and he’s often wondered if that's the reason he comes back to you, to your bed that smells of lavender and old books.

“Cuppa?”

You pop an old cup, decorated with flowers, in front of his face, but that’s not what he’s after.

He crowds you against the old wood of the furniture, his warmth seeps through the thick material of your dressing gown and you feel your body react to it, as if he hasn’t already quenched your thirst for him, making you beg and moan like a whore.

“I think I need something else, love.”

The low growl of his voice, paired to the way his thumb sweeps on your lower lip, makes your knees tremble and you follow your body’s instinct, kneeling on the floor, at level with his straining cock still trapped in his briefs.

You rise your eyes to his stern ones, silently asking for permission, which comes in the form of his big hand in your loose hair, guiding your face towards his manhood; you don’t need any more prompting, fingers grabbing the elastic to pull the cotton down his muscled legs, letting his erection spring free in front of your waiting mouth.

You don’t even notice him kicking his briefs away, your lips already on his weeping head, smearing the precum on your lips, his musky taste making you moan, tongue licking all he’s already giving you.

“Stop teasing.” 

He growls again, big hand now cupping your head firmly to control your movements when his fingers grab your unruly strands, pushing his cock into your wet mouth and you let him use you how he sees fit. 

You slowly bob your head up and down, taking every inch of him with every pass, spit wetting your chin as he advances mercilessly, until his head meets the back of your throat, making you moan as you try to swallow his girthy cock with desperate whines of need. His pushes become faster and more violent, him needing the velvet of your throat like he needs air now, wanting to feel you fully.

“Stop playing around.” He says through gritted teeth.

Your hands grab him to push him deeper, to force your throat to submit to his invasion and his hips kick against your face when you swallow around him, welcoming him with a long moan that almost breaks his control.

“Minx!” 

He barks, before starting to fuck your throat with with deep pushes that force your face closer to his hips, depriving you of air, his fingers biting your scalp now that he has to keep your face in place to fuck you to his leisure. You try to whine, to pull your head back, but he’s not letting you, his cock ruthlessly breaching your throat, hips grinding against your tears streaked face, until your eyes roll back in your head, the lack of oxygen almost making you faint. 

When he releases you, you cough, precum and spit falling from your lips. Desperate for air and for him, your hand curls around his cock to keep jacking him as you mouth at his balls, licking the mess that’s already leaked there, hungry and desperate for his taste in your mouth. 

Your lips find his cock again and now they form a loose O around his member that he can fuck as you suck your cheeks in for friction as your hand finds your center.

“What are you doing?”

Abraham’s cock leaves your mouth and his hand curls around your wrist, cruelly stopping your release.

“Please.” You beg pathetically. “Please, I need it.” And you’re not sure if it’s his cock or your orgasm.

Abraham’s eyes soften for a second, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for him.

 “You’ll come, on my cock though.”

He says with a strained voice, you drive him mad and you have no idea.

“Don’t you want to spend yourself here?”

Your free hand opens your nightgown, showing your luscious breasts to his burning gaze; Abraham has to grab his base or he’ll come untouched all over your soft skin and nipples: no, he wants your cunt, wet and and always ready for him.

He’s rough when he helps you on your feet, so fast that your head spins for a moment and you have to lean on him, your face against his study chest and his touch softens, his long fingers trace the knobs of your spine and he breathes in your smell, now mixed with his: it’s heady to know that you’re going to walk around with his marks on your beautiful body, even after he’s gone, you’ll carry a piece of him with yourself.

Your lips seek his, already slack for his tongue to breach again, he seeks his own taste as he kisses you, one of his hands in your hair again, the other busy divesting you of your dressing gown as you plaster your naked body against his and he moans in the kiss when your soft breasts push against his solid chest: no one has ever had this kind of effect on him and no one ever will, he fears.

For the longest second he stares into your eyes, big and unfocused, your lips plush from the kissing and the sucking, before turning you around to bend you over with your hands pressed against the window.

“Don’t you move, love, you won’t like it otherwise.” He whispers in your ear, and you tremble with need.

You’re so wet and ready for his cock, your honey slides down your thighs: you should feel ashamed of your desire, of how much you want his cock to plow you until your legs give up, but you can’t find in your heart to care, lust clouds your mind.

With wanton moans you push your arse backwards, towards his fully erect cock and his hand lands on your cheek, once, twice, until your cries of pain become pleads for mercy, for him.

“Please Abraham! Please! I need you!” You sound so broken, needy and whiney, and you don’t care: either he fucks you or you’ll go absolutely mad!

Abraham’s hands grab your plush hips to force you on your tippy toes, your arms straining to stay in place when his tip starts teasing your wet folds with slow, vertical motions that have his whole cock slowly pressing against your cunt, until your labia envelopes his erection fully. 

His lips find your ear, his teeth nibble the sensitive skin there.

“Beg for it!” 

He orders with a stern voice, laced with something you can’t place, born of the failed arranged marriage you know nothing about and that had hurt him beyond what he’s willing to admit. 

“Now!”

And you do, with your nails scratching the window, your voice high pitched and broken with desire and desperation, your body trembles when his teeth bite the naked skin of your back, savagely, leaving marks that will hurt with every movement.

“Abe, ah!”

His cock breaches you, your body lurches forward with the powerful pushes and his hands have to pull you back, fucking you with long strokes that open you up to his invasion, that mould your cunt for his cock, and his cock only.

When he bottoms out his hips grind against you, his bulbous head pushes mercilessly against that rough patch inside of you, and you cry out, desperate, tears streaming down your face, cunt curling around his cock like a fist that pulls him in and he wants to drown inside of you. 

Your body arches with every fast push against your spot, so hard and fast that you're already in overdrive, your pleasure careening towards you brutally, all your nerves burning to the point of pain that you try to squirm away from his hold: he’s too much, the pleasure he’s giving you encompassing your mind and your body, every muscle burns and trembles in his merciless hold, as his cock keeps fucking you. The pleasure is like a whiplash on your poor mind when his fingers find your pearl, his movements brutal, aided by your wetness and the pleasure explodes inside of you. Your body goes rigid with it, back arched, mouth hanging open as Abraham’s cock fucks you through it, you’re so tight it almost hurts to keep going, just a bit more, you’re giving him so much pleasure he needs more of your perfect cunt; he comes with his teeth biting your shoulder, the pain triggering a smaller orgasm that has your cunt milking his cock until he has no more to give.

His lax body falls on yours and you two slide on the floor, still grabbing at one another with trembling hands, your bodies deaf to the cold bite of the tiles as you two frantically kiss and hug in the vain attempt to become one.

Both your breaths are still labored when you two manage to stand up, your legs tremble so much that Abraham has to carry you up the stairs and up to your bed. By the time he comes back with a wet cloth to clean you up, you’re already asleep with your legs spread and his seed staining your overused cunt. 

He needs to be gentle when he cleans you up, not wanting to wake you up after having used you so hard; his cock tries to get hard again as the coupling replays in his mind. 

You’ll never know how much the memories keep him warm when his caravan is too cold and lonely, when he’s too far away from your village and he misses you, when he wishes you’d go away with him. 

But that’s never going to happen, to even imagine you being inside his caravan all curled up in your thick gown because you’re freezing or hugging him from behind, making it all the hardest to go out and work with the horses, means opening himself up to hopes he knows will crush him; this is safer, will always be safer, for you two both.

[philhoffman]

A couple more stories about our sweet guy—socks and hot dogs and the scar on the back of his neck and his big, beautiful hands. I came across a comment this week that “his brilliant mind ran ahead of time, yet his heart always beat synchronous to anyone before him.”

[songtiddies]

Charmed Masterlist

This is not completely 100 percent accurate to the Harry Potter universe nor do I own any of the Harry Potter characters, I just took it and added my twist to it and here we are

In no way does this reflect on any of the Ateez members, my work is purely fiction

The mood boards and works of fiction were created by me so please do not repost my work

Tumblr is ran by reblogging so if you like my writing please reblog my work

All works are SFW, maybe suggestive but nothing crazy

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Synopsis: A Patronus charm can only be casted by picturing a vivid image of intense joy, so it’s no wonder that for wizarding folk it’s the key to finding your soulmate.

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Come Up Off Your Color Chart.

Synopsis: After getting caught breaking quite a few wizard laws and somehow avoided getting expelled, you save him from getting stampeded in Care of Magical Creatures class. How have you never noticed him before, but he’s everywhere you go now? And why does his hair keep changing color?

Pairing: Metamorphagus! Gryffindor! Hongjoong! x Care of Magical Creatures Apprentice (afab) Hufflepuff! Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmate au, SLOWWWW BURN, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining (they’re both low key dumb sometimes, Hongjoong is especially), a lil Angst (but barely)

Release Date: TBA

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You Gotta be Cruel to be Kind.

Synopsis: Years of battling for the top of the class was starting to become exhausting. Everything lately has become exhausting, except for the recent late night excursions to restore a broken mirror that have been helping you escape. Or will Park Seonghwa somehow try to ruin that for you too?

Pairing: Headboy! Hufflepuff! Seonghwa! x Headgirl! (afab) Ravenclaw! Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmate au, Enemies to Lovers au, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff, Seonghwa is a jerk like 80 percent of the time, Slow Burn

Release Date: TBA

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Would You Catch Me if I Should Fall?

Synopsis: Juggling quidditch practice, coursework, and running an advice column for the school newspaper means any sort of love life is out of the question. Until recently when you’ve been getting love letters sent to your advice column, and you start seeing your best friend in a different light after he saved your life.

Pairing: Quidditch Captain! Hufflepuff! Yunho! x School Journalist! (afab) Hufflepuff! Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmates au, Fluff, BF2L, Secret Admirer au, Love Triangle au (but not really), Reader is BLIND, Slow Burn, Yunho really is a Golden Retriever

Release Date: TBA

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They’ll Tear Us Apart if You Give Them the Chance.

Synopsis: You already knew he was way out of your league, seven years of him not noticing your existence could tell you that. Yet when you finally catch a break, you’re suddenly being blackmailed, and there is no amount of bubblegum or midnight rants to the ghost in the bathroom that can ease the hole in your heart.

Pairing: Blonde!! (Yes that’s important) Prefect! Ravenclaw! Yeosang! x Quidditch Captain! Gryffindor! (afab) Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Angst!!!, Fluff, Soulmate au, Bullying (not from any main characters), Insecurities, Yeosang is an angel, Hurt/Comfort SLOW BURN

Release Date: TBA

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Now I Hear a Symphony.

Synopsis: You were completely content coasting through your eighth year as a background voice in the choir. Having managed to make it this far completely out of the spotlight, you were surprised that your gentle tune suddenly caught the school prince’s ear. Suddenly a boisterous symphony doesn’t seem so intimidating anymore.

Pairing: Slytherin Prince! San! x Hufflepuff! Choir Student! (afab) Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmates au, Opposites Attract au, Fluff, a lil Angst, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, San is so stupid but he makes up for it

Release Date: TBA

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We’ll Never Be as Young as We Are Now.

Synopsis: You don’t know how you got there, but surprisingly you got roped into tutoring Song Mingi, one of the loudest and most rambunctious boys in your year. What’s even more surprising is how he convinces you, one of the most uptight prefects in Hogwarts’ history, to tag along in his shenanigans.

Pairing: Keeper! Gryffindor! Mingi! x Potions Tutor! Ravenclaw! (afab) Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmate au, Slow Burn, Reader is awkward (but so is Mingi), Fluff, a lil Angst, Classmates to Friends to Lovers

Release Date: TBA

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Plant New Seeds in the Melody.

Synopsis: After detangling the loudmouth boy from the tentacula plant you’ve been tending to, ultimately sparing him from getting eaten, Professor Sprout forces him to help out in the greenhouse as punishment for ruining your end of year project. Unfortunately for the plants you tend to he has a black thumb, but luckily for you he has a heart of gold.

Pairing: Prankster! Slytherin! Wooyoung! x Herbology Prodigy! Hufflepuff! (afab) Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Soulmate au, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF, Wooyoung is WHIPPED, Lowkey Enemies to Lovers (but not really), Lowkey Opposites Attract, Slowburn

Release Date: TBA

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You Can Coax the Cold Right Out of Me.

Synopsis: After waking up in the hospital wing because he knocked you out with a football to the head, he has been giving you flowers ever since. You don’t know why he keeps coming back even after you keep pushing him away, because there’s no way for someone that sweet to be able to withstand a personality as frigid as yours.

Pairing: Florist Assistant! Jongho! x Tsundere! Slytherin (afab) Reader!

Genres/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (Flangst), Soulmate au, Jongho is so sweet it hurts, Hurt/Comfort, One Sided Pining?, Flower Language, Slowburn (yeah I get it they’re all slowburn)

Release Date: Sunday April 2nd, 9 P.M. MST

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Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[strangefable]

thank you for the many, many tags over the past... let's not count the time. but thank you to everyone who's continued to tag me for wips <3 most recently @inafieldofdaisies, @direwombat, @adelaidedrubman, @cassietrn, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @trench-rot, and many many more, thanks so much to everyone who thinks of me <3

today, i have a little bit of the opening chapter of the atlanta prequel to share:

Micah slowed her bike. Wouldn't do to get pulled over for speeding. Not with what sat strapped to the bike behind her. She felt the hard, sharp edges even through the leather of her jacket. She could almost hear ticking in the back of her mind; that thing may as well have been a bomb.

Hell, a bomb would’ve been less unnerving.

She followed the monotone, mechanical voice in her ear as it directed her to the appointed address. She felt a twinge in her neck as she tried to look up to the top of the building. Dark, ominous, sharp. It was a vague shape in the dark night sky, but it still felt foreboding as she gazed upward.

She pulled her helmet off and shook her head, releasing her hair as well as the chill along her spine. She was just a mechanic, but she was not going to get intimidated by some slick, rich asshole too impatient for his coke to wait for a regular mule.

As she entered the lobby, she saw the sleek marble floors, the stark modern architecture. There were heavy plaques on the wall with mysterious names. An office. A swanky, high tower one. Ballsy place to take in a delivery like the one she carried.

A man behind the security desk eyed her suspiciously. She offered him her sweetest, doe-eyed smile. “Hi, I have a delivery for…” she glanced down at her phone, “Mr. Duncan.” She looked back up at the security guard, still smiling warmly.

He grunted, waved his hand toward the metal detector. “Of course he’s still here,” he muttered to himself, before meeting her gaze.” 38, top floor.”

She hesitated as she stared at the metal detector’s arch. She took a few slow steps toward it, wondering how sensitive it was. At least she didn’t have to explain a gun, since hers was locked safely at home.

The detector went off as soon as she stepped through. She winced and stepped back.

The guard gave her a knowing look. “What’re you carrying?”

She attempted another smile. “Just a knife. It—”

He smirked and waved a hand. “Yeah, you’re not the first. Most of the couriers have some kind of protection these days. Can’t be too careful.” He nodded her through, ignoring the alarm as it went off again.

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.” His casual attitude about the whole thing surprised her, but she wasn’t about to argue. She wanted to get this over with and get the fuck out of here.

The whole place reeked of wealth and prestige and it made her skin crawl. So much metal and isolation from a single natural thing. So cold and uniform. She hated shit like this. Not that she’d admit it aloud, but it made her ache for home.

The elevator stopped at the top floor, and Micah ducked out swiftly, grateful to escape the grating music that jangled her nerves even more. Why did the wealthy always have such bland taste in everything?

She entered another lobby, but straight ahead was a formidable wall with a list of large, brass-lettered names behind a block of marble that must’ve been a reception desk. The woman seated there had a strained look on her features as she glanced over at Micah. Instead of a greeting, she only offered a stony, questioning stare.

Micah made a small sound in her throat. “Uhm. I…I have a delivery for Mr. Duncan. Urgent, I was told.”

The woman’s eyes went glassy at the name, and her expression seemed to grow even tighter. “Of course. Down the hall, Fourth door on your left.” She pointed to a hallway to her right.

Micah nodded and followed the directions. The lighting was low everywhere, probably dimmed to save cost outside of normal business hours. She wondered what kind of business it was they did here, then she stopped herself. She didn’t want any details at all. “I’m just a mechanic, that’s all.” She mumbled softly as she came to a stop outside the large, solid wood door.

It was floor to ceiling and she felt a sudden urge to run anywhere else. Instead, she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles against the wood.

“Yes?” The voice was smooth and sure, the barest edge of a threat beneath the word. Why did the image of a shark swerving beneath the water flash into her mind? She shook her head and pushed open the door.

“Delivery for Mr. Duncan.” It felt so stupid to say, but what the fuck else could she say? This was not her job. She would not let this become her job. She didn’t want the heat of being a mule; she’d made that abundantly fucking clear.

Yet here she stood.

“Come in.” The voice was clipped and cool, all business, but with an attempt at warmth. A small measure to pretend at civility, she supposed. She opened the door.

To her surprise, this room was not all sharp, sleek steel and concrete. It was lined everywhere with deep, rich wood. The scent of it filled her lungs, soothing, familiar. She blinked as her eyes took in the shelves lined with thick, heavy looking tomes. There was a wet bar taking up a whole wall, and it was where most of the room’s light came from.

That and the Tiffany lamp sitting on the gargantuan desk in the middle of the room.

A large, sleek, black, leather chairback greeted her. “You’re late.” The chair swiveled suddenly but soundlessly. A man with piercing blue eyes and a firm mouth stared at her. He peeked his fingers together in front of his face. One eyebrow lifted slightly as he took in the sight of her. “And you’re new.” A glint flashed in his eyes.

She narrowed her own. “No, I’m not. I’m doing a one time favor. Because, I’m told, you were very… insistent.”

His lips curved into a mirthless half smile. “Oh, is that how they phrased it?”

She snorted. “I could read between the lines. Not exactly anyone’s first choice to send a mechanic, but no one else was aw—available.” Her eyes darted away from his. “Mierda.” The whisper escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Shit. SHIT. She was saying too much.

She felt his eyes as he trailed them down her body. She felt them lingering around her curves, so easily displayed by her tight leathers. She shifted her weight and clutched her helmet closer to her body, as though it were a shield. A poor one, but what else did she have?

When she looked up again, she found his eyes staring directly into hers. His expression was unreadable as he forced his gaze on hers. She resisted the urge to clear her throat or look away. Something in his eyes reminded her of the predators she’d faced in the backcountry. You don’t look away from a predator when it’s sizing you up, so she steeled her nerves and met his gaze, her lips pressed thin and straight.

He smiled. Tight. Sharp. Too feline to be real, despite the straight, glaring whiteness of his teeth. It was a smile meant to disarm, but she knew better. “They have been rather… less than satisfactory of late. I’ve been considering exploring other avenues.” His eyes looked her up and down once more. “However, I might be amenable to changing my opinion.” As his eyes met hers again, the weight of his meaning settled heavy on her shoulders.

She shrugged slightly. “That’s above my pay grade. I’m just here to give you what you ordered.”

He ignored the package she held out to him. “You’re not curious?” He took a step toward her. His hand lifted, but instead of the package, he slipped his fingers around her wrist.

She shook her head. “They don’t pay me for that.”

“What do they pay you for?” Another step closer. His fingers tightened. His other hand rose to rest lightly against her waist.

tagging onwards (no pressure at all ever <3) @ivymarquis, @v0idbuggy, @derelictheretic, @henbased, @redreart, @wrathfulrook, @confidentandgood, @damejudyhench, @florbelles, @jillvalentinesday, @marivenah, @harmonyowl, @unholymilf, @shallow-gravy, @g0dspeeed, @strafethesesinners, @fourlittleseedlings, @voidika, @foibles-fables, @chazz-anova, @josephseedismyfather, @turbo-virgins, @roofgeese, @i-am-the-balancing-point, @poisonedtruth, @simplegenius042, @incognito-insomniac, @dumbassdep, @theelderhazelnut, @legally-a-bastard, @aceghosts and anyone i still have managed to miss in this list. (also if you don't want me tagging you, drop me an ask or a dm and no questions will be asked <3) edit: trying to fix tags.

[psychedelic-ink]

Sil! ❣️ massive congratulations on your 4.5K milestone, that’s so incredible and it’s so well deserved! I can’t wait to see what comes next for you - whether it’s new writing or a Joel Miller-invoked meltdown.

🍄 Can I kindly request the following prompt with Joel Miller: things you said in the dark.

Love ya!

Thank you so much for all the kind words ❤️❤️❤️ I'm definitely going to have a joel miller invoked meltdown, in fact, it's already begun dvdfvdf (also sorry but I could literally think of nothing else but angst with this prompt, but I still tried to keep it as light as possible!) Also even though I have been writing a lot of him in the background this is my first time officially posting for him ❤️

𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, mild angst

word count: 1.1k (🤡)

summary: you accidentally hear Joel grieving, and you do everything you can to comfort him.

warnings: themes of grief and loss, includes spoilers for the beginning of the game if you have zero knowledge of tlou and don't want to be spoiled about anything please don't read, platonic relationship with hints of becoming something more towards the end

𝑺𝑰𝑳'𝑺 4.5𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 (open)

You make your way up the creaky stairs of the abandoned house, heading to the bathroom. Since Joel had been complaining about his back, you told him that he should take the bed in the bedroom while you slept on the couch downstairs. You couldn’t sleep, your mind continuously wondering what might happen if you didn’t stand on guard. 

The air is thick with the musty smell of neglect, and the darkness seems to press in around you. The walls are peeling and the once-fine wallpaper is now little more than ragged strips. Broken frames and shattered glass litter the floor, evidence of the house's long-ago abandonment.

You pause for a moment, listening to the sound of Joel's whisper echoing through the empty rooms. You continue up the stairs, your footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust that covers the floorboards. As you reach the landing, you see a faint glow coming from one of the bedrooms. You approach the door cautiously, Joel must be having trouble sleeping too.

Peering into the room, you see Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you. He seems to be talking to someone, his voice low. The room is a mess, with clothes and papers scattered everywhere. The bed sheets are rumpled and stained, and the once-white curtains are now yellowed and threadbare.

You can't make out the words, but the tone of his voice makes you stand still. He was by no means a happy man, no one was anymore, but the sadness that laced into every word he whispers makes your heartache. 

“I’m so sorry Sarah,” you finally make out, his voice cracking. “I’m so god damn sorry,”

Only then do you realize he has his thick fingers wrapped around his broken watch, looking down at it and muttering the same words over and over. Your chest heaves, the taste of your tongue now significantly tasting of iron as you take slow breaths from your mouth. 

Not caring if he raises at you with anger, you slowly creak the door open, 

“Joel?” 

Suddenly, he spins around and looks straight at you. His brows furrowed, his nostrils flare, and his lips become a tight line. 

“What is it?” he grunts and stands up. “Is something wrong?” 

“N—No. I just heard you and well…wanted to check to see if you’re okay,” 

“As you can see I’m fine,” he snaps, walking around the bed and reaching you. “You really shouldn’t be snooping.” 

“I was just heading to the bathroom,” you answer, before he can say anything else you add. “You know that I’m here for you right? You can talk to me, Joel. Even though that alone might be painful.” 

“I don’t want to talk. I want to sleep.” 

He’s resisting you as he always does. You know he’s in pain, you know he still grieves. You see the extra shine in his eyes that is illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight streaming from the tethered windows. You suck in a breath, heart beating in your ears as you contemplate what move to take. 

“I can’t sleep either. Can I sleep here?” 

“Fine then, I’ll take the couch,” 

He heads for the door, shoulder brushing against yours. Quickly you reach out and take a hold of his wrist, you know that he truly wants to leave he can pull his wrist away, but he doesn’t. He stand completely still, you’re sure he’s also holding his breath, waiting for you to speak. 

“No— I mean, we can share? I would feel much safer if we’re together,” 

You hesitate, wondering if your offer will be accepted. You can see the conflict in Joel's eyes, the struggle between his desire to be alone with his grief and his need for human connection. You hold your breath, waiting for his response.

Finally, he sighs and nods. "Yeah, okay," he says, his voice heavy. "We can share the bed."

You release his wrist and follow him back to the bed. The wind howls outside, rattling the windows in their frames. You both tentatively climb into the bed, trying to keep a respectful distance between each other. The sheets are cool against your skin, and you can feel the warmth radiating from Joel's body.

You lay there in silence, listening to the sound of the wind and the creaking of the old house. You can feel the tension in Joel's body. You want to reach out and comfort him, to offer some kind of solace, but you're not sure if he's ready to accept it.

"I'm sorry," you whisper into the darkness. "I'm sorry for your pain."

Joel's hand reaches out and finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. "It's not your fault," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...it's just hard to let go...and I'm not sure if I want to let go."

You squeeze his hand, offering what little comfort you can. You lay there in silence, listening to the sound of the wind and the beating of your own hearts. The minutes tick by, and eventually, you feel the tension in his body starting to ease. His breathing becomes slow and steady.

As the night wears on, you find yourself talking to Joel about hope. Which is something you never thought of sharing with him. 

You tell him that one day, all of this pain and suffering will pass. You paint a picture for him of a future where the flowers bloom and the sun shines bright. You tell him that he can be happy again, that there is a way forward.

Joel doesn't believe you. He shakes his head. "I don't know," he says. "It's hard to see how things will ever get better."

You keep talking, describing the world you see in your mind's eye. You tell him about the birds singing in the trees, the soft breeze blowing through the fields. You tell him about the joy and the beauty that still exists in the world, even in the midst of all the pain.

You don’t realize that you’re no just trying to comfort him, you’re trying to comfort yourself as well.

Joel listens. He doesn't say much, but you can see the way his eyes soften, the way his body relaxes. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and comforting.

You come closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. You feel his arm wrap around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes, savoring the moment.

And then, you do something you never thought you'd do. You reach out and brush your lips against his cheek, his forehead, his nose. You feel his breath catch in his throat, and for a moment, you wonder if you've gone too far.

But then he squeezes your hips, and you know that everything is going to be okay. You lay there in his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body and the beating of his heart. You fall asleep, feeling more alive and hopeful than you have in a long time.

[milkistay]

STRAY KIDS as best friends

pairing. bff!skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

a/n. truly sorry there’s no “read more” on this post but chunks of my post kept getting deleted and messed up every time i tried putting it in :/

chan

- therapy best friends - listening to each other vent all the time - you’re the first person he goes to when he’s struggling and vice versa - you’ve developed such an immense amount of trust between the two of you like it’s crazy - if one of you shares a secret, that secret is not leaving the pair of you EVER - he cares about the people close to him so much and you’re no exception - remembers everything about you - favorite ice cream flavor, go-to drink order, every story you’ve told him—everything - in turn, he’s the BEST gift giver - you’ll mention wanting something in passing six months before your birthday and he’ll remember and get it for you - definitely one to write you long birthday cards about how much you mean to him - “what would i do without you?” - chan, all the time - he always texts you about whatever cool thing he saw - of course, he’s clingy - hugging you 24/7  - you two have definitely taken multiple naps together just cuddling - heals the soul - also asks you about your opinion on every song he produces because he wants to know what you think, even if you know nothing about music production - platonic soulmates 100%

minho

- people who see you guys for the first time think you hate each other - but that’s just your friendship - lighthearted insults and poking fun at each other  - but you have so much love between you two - he thinks you’re the best person in the world - you share every thought with him and vice versa - you know the other better then they know themselves - he’s not one for verbal affection but once he wrote you a letter about how much he appreciated you and you cried - he has a list of all the cool places he wants to take you - you’re also the kind of best friends who could go months without talking and when you finally see each other, it’s like nothing has changed - not that minho would leave you alone for months - no, he’s texting you “hey look at this cat” all the time - he loves you too much to not be in contact with you every second that he can

changbin

- you do EVERYTHING together - changbin loves having company and you will be the company - whether you’re going to a fun amusement park or literally just to the grocery store, changbin will come with you - you’re a package deal - spending almost every waking minute together does bring two people closer  - if you’re the kind of person that hates ordering or talking to strangers, changbin will do all of that for you with no issue - he’s very considerate when it comes to you - will be one to be like “did you sleep well?” and “have you eaten yet?” and if you say no he calls you stupid - he looks after you a lot, sometimes without realizing - just wants to make sure his best friend is healthy and happy - he definitely feels like your younger brother, you guys have a sibling relationship - poking fun at each other every now and then but having lots of love - comes to you 24/7 with “hey hey listen to these lyrics i just wrote”

hyunjin 

- you two are in you’re own little world sometimes - going to art museums and sharing earbuds while talking in low voices to each other—fully just living life in one another’s company - it’s a good time - he loves telling you about his interests and you love listening and watching his eyes light up - he also just has so much??? love????? for you?????? - like he adores you and will hype you up all the time - brings you up in every conversation - you guys take so much photos of each other everywhere you go like you could make a giant photo album - he likes cherishing memories with you - and when you’re not together, he’s texting you every second about what just happened in his life and sending photos from wherever he is - you’re the first person he comes to when something's on his mind - cherishes your opinion

jisung

- certified idiots - you guys are just loud whenever you get in range of each other - everyone’s rolling their eyes at you when you two get going - world’s best comedy duo - but you know how to be serious and talk about some really deep emotional things - you’d trust each other with the biggest secret you have - you’re just so so close - honestly he feels like an extension of you and you of him - you two feel more complete when you’re together - everything is better when you’re with your best friend - sharing plates at dinners, trying new ice cream shops, walking in the park at night, spending early mornings at the studio listening to jisung mumble new lyrics for a song - enjoyment increases by 1000000% - no two people seem more made for each other than you two do - sorry if you get a partner one day, they might have to fight jisung to be your #1 priority

felix

- are you really best friends if the whole world doesn’t think you’re dating? - your relatives ask you if he’s your boyfriend every year - it’s only because you seem to spend every waking minute together doing everything and you’re attached at the hip and felix can’t keep his arm off your shoulders and you know everything about each other and you’d die for each other - the best best friends - you’ve developed some kind of secret language - when you two really get going, absolutely no one else can understand you - like you’re just making references and giving each other looks and you’re having a whole conversation that only makes sense to you two - he’s the kind to pick up something for you wherever he goes - your favorite candy at a convenience store, a souvenir when he travels, a small accessory when shopping - you’re on his mind all the time

seungmin

- such a comfy friendship - countless late nights spent watching whatever show and sharing snacks - the type of best friends to sit in the same room in silence for HOURS just doing your separate things - then he just goes “you wanna get food?” - and you go get food - quality time is the love language of your friendship - you’ll spend the whole weekend glued together going anywhere and doing anything - you’re too familiar with the quirks and eccentrics of seungmin - you’ll bring him up to other people and they’ll go “seungmin seems so quiet and calm” - and you’re just like ??????? - not your seungmin - he can be a little shit at times (a lot of the time) and you’ll be THIS close to throttling him and then he smiles and you’re like FINE i love u again

jeongin

- he uses his charms for evil - “y/n will you do me a favor...?” with the most heart-warming smile ever - of course you’re saying yes - king of acts of service - washing your dishes, doing your busy work, paying for you - and when you notice and thank him he denies it - you’ll mention that you really like this one sweater of his and the next day it’s on your bed in a gift bag - always ready and willing to give you fashion advice, even if you didn’t ask for it - “don’t wear that it doesn’t go with your shoes” - “i literally didn’t ask” - but you listen anyways - you trust that he’ll be honest with you no matter what so you come to him all the time for an opinion on something - when he’s upset or frustrated, you’re the one he confides in - you just get each other so well