#❀. it’s not over until it’s over ／ thread
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Eddie survives the Upside Down by sheer force of Steve Harrington's will. He, Robin, and Nancy come upon Dustin sobbing over Eddie's very alarmingly still body, and Steve doesn't even hesitate to heave Eddie over his shoulder and carry him to the gate. He refuses to think about whether or not Eddie is dead and this is pointless — he'll be damned if he doesn't try everything. They manage to get Eddie through and escape themselves before the earth starts ripping itself open, and Steve carefully lays Eddie on the bed in the RV, tearing down the road at an ungodly speed, driving straight for the hospital.
He's so singularly focused on not letting Eddie die that he doesn't remember about Erica, Lucas, and Max until he watches in horror as a gurney carrying Max comes flying through the doors of the emergency room, Lucas and Erica running behind it. The nurses stop the Sinclairs from following her through to the surgical wing, and Steve hurriedly vacates his seat, pulling the two kids into a hug, apologies pouring from his lips. Eventually, he stops babbling, and everyone takes a seat, Steve wincing as he does so.
The bites on his sides still smart, but he can — and will — wait to get seen himself until he hears something about Eddie. When they'd shown up, Steve carrying Eddie bridal style and screaming for help, everyone around them had thought Eddie was dead; after getting him on a gurney, a nurse yelled at everyone to shut up as she pressed a stethoscope to Eddie's chest, and the next thing Steve knew, Eddie was being wheeled away from them to surgery. Dustin had fallen to his knees, appearing to be praying to anything listening, and Steve nearly joined him. Somehow, Eddie was still alive. Steve refused to be seen until he knew that was still the case.
Hours pass before they're allowed in to see Eddie; when they are, it's somehow more horrifying than the moment Steve had found him cradled in Dustin's lap. Eddie is still motionless, but now he's paler, there's what looks like a hundred wires coming out of his body, and a tube is breathing for him. Steve hazily registers the doctors explaining that the blood loss was significant, as were the wounds littering Eddie's body, and that it's going to be a waiting game to see what happens next. He startles when he hears the gentle comment that if Eddie doesn't wake within a week, it's unlikely he ever will; Steve refuses to even consider that as a possibility.
Nancy manages to talk Steve into getting his own bites cleaned and stitched, which turns into taking him home for a shower and a change of clothes; they're still driving the stolen RV, and when Steve pulls back into the hospital parking lot, he hesitates before climbing out. Eddie's denim vest is still sitting on the sofa, bloodstained and ripped all over. Steve digs through the cabinets of the RV until he finds a sewing kit, and brings the vest inside with him.
He carefully washes out as much of the blood as he can in the bathroom sink, and plops into a chair at Eddie's bedside, pulling out red thread and a needle from the sewing kit. Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all exchange looks before simply sitting in silence, watching Steve carefully begin to repair every tear in the fabric.
Eventually, Nancy gets a hold of Wayne Munson, who enters the room, sees Steve hard at work on his project, and doesn't say a word — he just pulls a chair up next to Steve's, claps him on the shoulder, and reaches out to pat Eddie's leg through the hospital blankets. Neither Steve nor Wayne leave their spots other than to use the bathroom, and nobody tries to make them.
Three days into Eddie's hospital stay, the door opens, and Eleven, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and someone Steve doesn't recognize enter the room. Steve looks up, unblinking and on the verge of unseeing, before turning his attention back to the vest; two small hands reach out and cover his, and it's only then that he registers who's standing in front of him. Eleven is looking at him sadly, and hesitates only briefly before she leans forward to hug him.
He grips her tightly, and takes a shaky breath before holding a hand out toward the Byers brothers and Mike, and sooner than anyone can blink, there's a massive huddle of arms enveloping Steve. For the first time since leaving the Upside Down, Steve lets himself cry; nobody comments at it, nobody even acknowledges it — other than Eleven, who gently wipes his face with her sleeves when they finally separate.
More chairs are dragged into the room, and suddenly Eddie is the most popular patient in the hospital — tied with Max, of course, as the group takes shifts between the two rooms. Steve and Wayne are the only permanent fixtures in Eddie's room, just as Lucas and Erica are the only permanent residents with Max.
Steve finishes patching the tears in the vest, but Eddie hasn't woken up yet, so his fingers itch to keep going. He pulls out a spool of white thread, and outlines the jagged stitches he made before, carefully working his way over the entire vest once more. When he finishes that, he grabs black thread, and repeats the process.
He's in a sort of trance as he stitches away, conversations happening around him but sounding like they're miles away. It's not until someone physically stops his hands moving again that he realizes the words are being directed towards him; confused, he looks up and jolts so strongly he nearly tips his chair backwards. The person who stopped him working this time is Jim Hopper, and for the first time since the doctor gave them the stupid timeline, Steve feels hope. If Hopper can come back, Eddie can too. Eddie can too.
On day 6 of Eddie's coma, Steve speaks for the first time, tired eyes looking at Eleven beseechingly. "Can you... will you see if he's still in there?"
Eleven takes the bandana Wayne passes her and ties it over her eyes, one hand gripping Eddie's, the other intertwined with Steve's. She focuses on the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the wheezing of the oxygen pump, the sounds allowing her to drift into the in-between. She finds Eddie curled in a ball, hands clutching his sides, tears silently streaming down his face.
As she did with Steve, she gently reaches out and wipes his face clean, and waits for him to acknowledge her; he eventually looks up at her and his eyebrows furrow. "Who are you?" he asks, voice scratchy with disuse.
"Eleven," she says, holding out her hand to you.
"Henderson's friend?"
Eleven nods. "Come. Time to leave here. They're waiting for you."
She pulls Eddie to his feet and starts walking forward, focusing her hearing until she can isolate Steve's breathing pattern under the din of the hospital machinery. Her eyes fly open under the bandana, and she rips it off, turning to look at Eddie expectantly. For a moment, there's nothing and then —
Eddie starts choking on the breathing tube, Wayne starts yelling for a doctor, Steve breaks down in fresh tears, and the kids are cheering.
It's hours of examinations later that Steve is finally able to return to his seat at Eddie's side, everyone, Wayne included, giving him a minute alone with Eddie. When he enters, he notices Eddie is holding the vest, tracing his fingers over Steve's haphazard stitching.
Sheepishly, Steve raises a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I did the best I could."
The stitches zigzag across all the places the fabric had been slashed, both by demobat talons and sharp bushes in the Upside Down forest, and Steve's work has it looking like branches of lightning working their way across the vest. Eddie shakes his head and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and shining. "You fixed it."
Steve shrugs and Eddie shakes his head again. "Harrington.... Steve. You... you fixed it. For me."
Steve inches forward in his seat, and reaches out to grab one of Eddie's hands. "I dunno, I kinda think I fucked it up. But I could tell when you threw it at me that this was something that was important to you. I didn't let that place take you away, why would I let it take your things?"
Eddie laughs, head thrown back against his pillows, hand squeezing the absolute life out of Steve's. When he finally settles, he looks at Steve bashfully, head dipped down just enough that he's looking up at him through his eyelashes. "Talk about a declaration of unambiguous true love," he whispers.
Steve doesn't seem surprised or put off by Eddie's assessment; in fact, all he does is beam at him before lifting Eddie's hand to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss to his bruised knuckles.
"Take me out on a date first, Munson. Then we can start throwing words like love around."
As the room fills with the sound of Eddie and Steve's laughter, the rest of the group filters back in, including Lucas pushing a wheelchair-bound Max; Steve looks around at all of them and sighs around a soft smile.
They won.
#Steddie drabble#stranger things drabble#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#my fic#originally the lightning stitching was going to be intentional#Steve thinking about the red lightning in the Upside Down#and thinking about it as the backdrop to Eddie's playing#but I kind of like the idea of it being accidental and Eddie thinking it's metal as fuck
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WHAT'S AFTER PLAN B?
after missing your period, you decided to take a pregnancy test, whatever happens next depends on him.
feature: choso, gojo, geto | part ii: nanami, sukuna, toji, hiromi
content: 4.5k+ wc — not proofread + mentions of pregnancy, slight guilt trip, possessive sēx, light cm play, dggystyle, m!reciving, pssy eating, fluff, nastay
CHOSO KAMO
Choso had been enamored with you since the day you two first met, and ever since he had been by your side whenever he had the chance, like a lost puppy.
However, he was no different during sex, but rather–worse.
The day you graced him with the chance to even see her at all, never in his life had he been so hard that it hurt to move. In that moment he wanted to cum so bad—already having a pool of pre-cum seeping embarrassingly through the thread of his boxers.
He never wanted to pull out of your tight hole, never dared to dream of a day he wasn’t fucking you after your first time together. The same hole that has his hips stuttering as he pounds into your tight cunt, drooling. every. time.
The same pussy that took his virginity, what else would he be if not obsessed? Nothing would ever relate to the way your insides claimed him. Not his hands, not ever any toys, not anyone else, just you.
You had him locked in a chokehold from the start—and the day you trusted him to take care of your insides was the day he swore he would do anything for you.
He fucks you like his only purpose in life was to please you—trying to get you pregnant, emptying every last drop he has in you. Never taking his dick out, giving you two a second to catch your breath, before hes fucking into you even harder.
Is it really so surprising as he now holds your pregnancy test while you wait for him to respond?
“…Y-You’re?” he gulps as the weight of reality sinks in–his heart struggling to function at the sudden news.
You forewarned him numerous times, that if he didn’t stop cumming in you every time you had sex, that birth control wouldn’t even be able to stop the carelessness of his actions—that would only end up with you pregnant.
“Pregnant, yes.” you bit your lip, looking down at your feet as the room shifts into silence. Leaving your mind to wonder until he begins to open his mouth.
His eyebrows slightly furrow as he turns to face you, seeming taken aback. “Are you going to keep it?" he asks.
“I've thought about it.” you quip with a sigh.
His eyes map your face with attentiveness, looking for falter between the lines of your words. Sliding closer to you, making you feel the weight of the couch dip. “And?”
“Anddd, I want to know how you’d feel if we were to—possibly try?”
A switch in Choso's mind flickered. The plush cushions yielded beneath his weight, and suddenly, you were lying flat on your back, pinned by the force of his body against yours. His chest pressed against your ribs, and your breath caught in your throat.
“Do you know how long I've wished to watch your belly grow? To let everyone know I'm the one who stuffed you full of my cum, made you the soon to be mother of our child?”
“Well I-”
His eyes bore into yours, searching for answers. “Tell me,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours, “How would you feel? Walking around while everyone knows you got fucked by me so good, that you ended up pregnant?”
You swallowed, your pulse racing. “I'd feel…” the words escaped you, lost in the intensity of the moment. “I'd feel proud letting everyone know you’re mine.”
Choso’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, and you leaned into his touch. his mouth hovered over yours, a breath away. “Don’t you want to make me proud?”
“Y-Yes…so proud,” you nodded.
Then without warning, his lips met yours—a collision of heat and longing. The couch bounced again, but this time, it was forgotten. All that mattered was the taste of him, the way his kiss ignited a thousand sparks within you.
Admittedly, making your pussy clench just from the tension.
His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheekbone as if committing every detail to memory. When he finally pulled away, your lips tingled, and you struggled to catch your breath.
Choso’s eyes bleeding into yours, dark and unreadable. The room felt charged, as if the air itself crackled with unspoken promises. “Then let’s make sure you do.”
You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, reminding you of the very reason why you were in this predicament.
"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant constantly," he whispered, his hands roaming over your body. "I can't get enough of you, baby."
“C-Cho’ need it inside…please…” you felt your worries melt away as you surrendered to his touch. You’ve thought about it too, desperately, and he made sure you were gonna get just that. Your clothes falling to the floor, as you kissed and touched each other without plan.
Choso positioned himself between your legs, looking deep into your eyes.
"I've been missin’ her," he said, stroking your thighs. "Seems like she missed me too,"
“Mnh—don’ tease Cho’….”
“H-Hah, how am i s’posed to say no to that?” positioning his throbbing dick at the entrance of your soaked pussy he slowly thrusted forward.
Both of you gasped as you felt yourself being stretched and filled by his inconsiderable length. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being sheathed in your tightness.
"You like that, pretty?" earning a moan from the depths of your throat—meeting his thrusts with eager hips.
"Y-Yes…!," you whispered, licking your lips. "I love it—f-fuck me, Cho’. Make me a mommy…mngha"
Choso began to move, sliding in and out of you with long, deep strokes. He watched as his cock disappeared inside you, only to emerge glistening and slick. You threw your head back, moaning loudly as your whole body trembled with pleasure.
Choso fucked your worries and stress as they melt away. You loved the way he made you feel—wanted, desired, and absolutely worshiped.
His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered dirty words of encouragement. "T-That’s it pretty, take it all, mnguh—” he grunted. "Your pussy feels s-suh good, s-squeezin’ my dick. m’ gonna cum so deep inside you..."
You knew you shouldn't encourage his reckless behavior, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just wanted to feel him cum inside of you.
"C-Uhm for me, cho—ngh!” you begged. "Wan’uh feel it deep in my womb!”
“Oh f-fuck, she’s milking me so tight baby…mmmphn!” with a guttural groan, Choso obeyed, pushing deep till his load shot inside of you, his cock pulsating in the process.
His cum was seeping out of you and pushing you over the edge yet again. Crying his name like it was your first word, your pussy surrendering around him, savoring the last drop of his exhausted cock.
“Mmgnh—you’re so pretty like this, stuffed full of my b-babies…shit..”
GOJO SATORU
ring ring ring ring
You paced around the kitchen anxiously awaiting for Satoru to pick up the call.
You were one week late for your period, and while dealing with Satoru physically trained you to be prepared with plan b at all times, this time it finally failed.
Satoru knew how to pull out sure, it’s the fact that he just never really wanted too. Yeah he loved watching his cum drip off your tits, painting your body, or slipping off his tip and resting on your tastebuds. He’s just much rather watch your tight pussy struggling to hold in his cum from leaking out.
He'd continuously rearrange your insides and clean up any mess he left behind. Satoru won't acknowledge that he has occasionally wondered what you would look like if you were carrying his child. Your love handles would get doughier than usual, and your nipples, hard and lactating, the whole concept made him ignore the negative aspects. And while having a child is a blessing, his life's ambition was to have one with you.
Every time he saw your pussy strain to contain his cum, he secretly hoped that one day you would fall pregnant in order to bring downfall on your plan b pills. It’s not as if they were safe for you anyways, right?
What trouble could one child bring…
“Satoru? hello?”
“Yes, my love?”
There’s a moment of calm static on the other end of the line.
“I missed my period by a week, it didn’t even hit me until I looked at the calendar.”
“Really? Are you sure?” with a smile that defies words, he asks.
"Yes, I'm sure—" you say, opening your mouth to let out a frustrated sigh, "and a little worried, too."
“Hey, don’ be scared, this could be a good thing. Can you imagine? A little one who has your beauty and my charm?”
“Satoru…” you groan.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I want you to know that i’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” trying to soothe your anxieties he speaks again, “Why don’ you use my card and get a test?”
“So what happens if it’s positive?”
“Then we can figure out the rest. If not, then my answer still stands.”
Before you speak, there's a pause during which you can hear his students' soft voices blending momentarily with the call's background noise, taking it as a sign the calls about to end. “I guess I’ll take one."
“Atta girl, look, I have to go but I love you and I'll see you when I get home ‘kay?”
“Alright, I love you too, toru’ bye.”
beep beep beep—
Unusually quiet, the house remained hushed after you hung up. the next few hours, feeling like your mind was against you, terrible thoughts creeping in your head.
It felt like there was a war with your heart and mind that made your gut queasy.
All you could think about were the amount of things that could go wrong. What if something happens that causes you to lose the baby? What if having a baby starts to hinder Satoru’s life outside of you? There’s too much at risk you thought.
You pick up Satoru's credit card and use it while you scroll through your favorite online grocery store. The familiar layout of the website distracting you with certainty to the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing.
You add your favorite snacks, the ones that always manage to lift your spirits. As you browse through the website, you remember the most important item - the pregnancy test. within a few more clicks, the test is added to your cart.
Once you’ve reviewed the order, you proceed to checkout. you enter Satoru’s card details, and with a final click, the order is placed. A sense of relief washes over you. Now, all you have to do is wait.
As you wait for the delivery, you decide to take a shower. The idea of the warm water feels comforting against your nerves.
Dropping your towel as you stepped onto the ceramic flooring—turning on the shower head quickly after, you let out a sigh as the streams of water began to run down your face.
You tried to calm yourself, letting the water wash away the tension in your position. The shower becoming a sanctuary, a place where you can let your guard down and just be.
You lose track of time as the water envelops down, each droplet echoing your heartbeat.
The steam fills the bathroom, creating a soothing atmosphere. As you let your thoughts wander, thinking about the future, about Satoru, and about the possible life growing inside you.
Until hearing the front door open and close—pulling you from your daze. Signaling, Satoru was home.
A few moments later, you could hear him dropping his keys on the nightstand in your shared room. Then quietly making his way to the bathroom and without a word, eventually joining you in the shower.
"Satoru—" you started, but he cut you off.
“How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You hesitated for a moment before answering, "Um, alittle better, anything new happen at work?”
Satoru looked at you, his eyes soft but serious. "Don’t try changin’ the subject," he said, his tone firm.
You looked at him, surprised by his intensity, "M’ not, Satoru. m’ just... trying to process everything."
His head resting against your neck, as he caved his large frame behind you. “Some things you don’t need to process alone y’know,”
You didn't respond to him. the sounds only the shower provides, shooting streams that drench you both equally. "I just don't want this to get in the way of your work," you confess, turning to face him.
As the water continued to cascade down, Satoru gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheek. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions - concern, anticipation, and most importantly, love. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering support. “Would’ve had a different reaction if I didn’t want this, you know that right?”
He cut you off before you could even reply, leaning in - to capture your lips with his. It was a gentle kiss, filled with passion. The romantic tension between you two was palpable, the air in the shower becoming steamy. But it was a sweet kind of tension, one that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other.
As you pulled away, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, clouded by his lust and love for you–now reflecting back to yours. “Do I need to show you just how much I want this baby?”
"Depends, how would you go about doing that, hmm?"
“You tell me baby,” with a sly grin, Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing his body against yours in the steamy shower. His hands roamed skillfully up and down your body, caressing and exploring your every curve and contour.
You let out a soft moan as his lips found the nape of your neck, and you tilted your head back, melting into his touch. "I think–I have a pretty good idea of how you're going to show me," you breathed, your voice husky with temptation.
Satoru's eyes glinted mischievously as he smiled, “Then you must know what I want you to do.”
You could feel how much Satoru wanted you, and to say you wanted him back was an understatement.
You gave in to his request without thinking twice, bending over and exposing yourself to him, spreading yourself just like he wanted. His hands settled softly on your hips as he drew you in, admiring the way you had yourself on show for him, relishing in the beauty of your form.
His cock rested heavily as he chided against your pussy. He cautiously grounded your lower body while stroking your clit with his tip moving it back and forth.
“Mmmn–toru’”
“Aww…so wet f’me already?” he chuckles, breathy grunts in between.
“I-Its just the water mgnh…!–”
Satoru traversed himself beneath you and stepped in between your legs, gently separating them. you sighed softly as his fingers probed your warm folds and you felt an electric current flow through every nerve in your body.
He spoke in your ear, his deep voice resonating through you, "Whatever helps you sleep at night sweetheart,’’
Satoru put his hands on your hips and moved slowly at first, taking in every part of your body as he made his way inside. He picked up the pace, driving deeper and harder into you with each thrust, making you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up. “Ooh–fuck toru’ t’s too much..”
“Nothin’ you can’t handle mmmhmm- isn’t that right?” pleasure filled every inch of your body, and Satoru's eyes were fixed on yours, mirroring your own yearning. with each passing second that went by, you could feel the pressure inside of you growing.
“–Mgnhmm, I can- toru’ fuck! I can handle it…!”
“Baby–shit…your cunt’s s-swallowin’ me baby fuhck—no wonder you missed your period..”
Your bodies well submerged in the soaking shower, Satoru pumped into you with all he could, his thrusts growing harder and faster. Making you cry out in exhilaration—begging him to make you cum–telling him how good he was making you feel.
“Y-Yeah? gonna c-cum too pretty…fuck! ughn, cum on my cock like you mean in baby…wanna feel them walls spasmin’” he panted. his fingers, tight on your face, drawing you nearer as he gave you a heated kiss.
Satoru kept thrusting into you, his pace growing more erratic as you both were ready to cum, your lips never daring to leave each other. you were lost in pleasure, just as much as he was. relishing the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours, the sensation of his firm hands holding you tight.
“Mmmnuph!–toru’ pleash m’ cummin’!”
Satoru looked into your eyes intensely, whispering sweet nothings as his hand caressed your face. "You did s-so good, baby," he murmured, "Your lil hole’ so full of my cum mmmh." his voice was laced with adoration.
“You look so beautiful,” his eyes ran over you, softly. "Honna look even better with my baby in your belly, aren’tcha?" Satoru whispered in your ear.
“Oh hush…Satoru.”
“Jus’ sayin,” he smiled widely.
Just as you and Satoru were reveling in the afterglow of your shared orgasm, there was a loud ring from your front door, startling you both out of your passionate daze.
ding-dong
“What the hell?” Satoru groaned against your neck.
“Oops–I forgot about the groceries I ordered earlier.” you sighed, causing Satoru to chuckle at your antics. “I'll get them for you baby, just get cleaned up.”
GETO SUGURU
You both had been trying for a while now, and each month brought a mix of hope and disappointment. But he never let it bring you down.
He’d fuck your worries away if it mean’t you’d never have doubt - and hell, he did it anyway.
These past nights ending with you being fucked out on his cock–struggling to keep up with his endurance for hours. He’d come home and fuck you, wake up in the morning and fuck you, finish dinner and fuck you. He’d fill you so good, he was sure your pussy was a supervillain—sucking his orgasm straight from his soul.
You knew these things take time, and so did he. But, Geto on the other hand—was more than happy, getting to fuck you relentlessley every night, having a reason ignore your whimpers for him to give you a moment, only for him to remind you, “We have to make sure you get pregnant baby, isn’t that what you wanted? To grow my child in your lil’ womb hmm?”
And after those same nights, you would lay in bed with Geto, his arms wrapped around you, whispering sweet words of encouragement after he just fucked you unwalkable.
“We'll get there, baby,” he would say, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. “We just need to be patient.”
You were both lounging around the house, enjoying the lazy day. Geto was reading a book while you were trying to decide what to make for dinner. opening the fridge, you sighed.
“Sugu’, we’re out of almost everything,” you called out, staring at the nearly empty shelves.
Geto looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I thought we just went shopping,” he replied, setting his book down and walking over to join you.
You shrugged, stepping aside to let him see for himself. “Guess we forgot to pick up a few things,” you said, watching as he scanned the contents of the fridge.
Geto hummed in agreement, closing the fridge door. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he said, turning to look at you. “How about we go to the store? We can pick up what we need and maybe grab something for dinner too.”
You nodded, appreciating his willingness to help out. “Sounds like a plan, Sugu’,” you replied, grabbing your wallet and keys. “Let's go.”
He picked up a shopping cart as soon as you both entered the store and began navigating the aisles. Geto took the lead, pushing the cart while you walked beside him, a shopping list in hand.
After getting most of the things you needed, it came time to check out.
Unbeknownst to Geto, you had secretly picked up a pregnancy test and slipped it into the basket. Your heart racing as the cashier picked up the test, scanning it without a second glance. You held your breath, wondering if Geto had noticed. But he remained silent, paying for the items and chatting casually with the cashier.
The sun was starting its slow descent, casting a warm golden glow through the kitchen window as you returned home.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, a secret hidden within those shopping bags you carefully placed on the counter. You busied yourself, unpacking the groceries, your hands slightly shaking as you tried to appear calm and collected. But Geto, ever observant, noticed your nervous energy from across the room.
He watched you for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes, before quietly making his way over. Sliding his arms around your waist, he pulled you back against his chest, his palms roaming across your hips, caressing the curves of your body. You let out a soft gasp as his touch sent a jolt through you.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin, "Wanna tell me what this is all about, baby?"
You froze, your heart pounding in your ribs. Of course, he had seen the pregnancy test. "I just wanted to be sure, Sugu’," you replied, your voice soft and hesitant. "I didn't want to get your hopes up." his hands stilled on your hips and you could feel his eyes on you as he waited for you to turn and face him.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?" Geto asked, his voice gentle and full of understanding. "We've been hoping for this. I know it's a big deal, but we're in this together." his palms were gentle as they slid up your stomach, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.
"No secrets, remember?" he murmured, his lips now placing soft kisses along your jaw.
Turning in his arms, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his eyes searching yours. "I know, and I'm sorry," you whispered, your worries melting away under the intense gaze.
His hands continued their exploration, sliding up your thighs now, drawing you closer against him so you could feel his cock against your belly. "Let me make it up to you," you breathed, your eyes dropping to his lips.
without another word, you dropped to your knees in front of him, running your hands up his powerful thighs. you could feel his eyes on you as you undid his belt, your heart pounding with anticipation.
His hands kneading the back of your neck as you pulled his zipper down, freeing his thick, hard cock. You paused for a moment, looking up at him, before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting his pre-cum.
A soft groan escaped his lips as you took more of him into your mouth, slowly working your way down his length. Your hands rested on his thighs for support as you took him deeper, your nose nuzzling his pubic bone. He filled your mouth completely, and you relaxed your throat, taking him all the way down, your lips brushing his balls.
He let out a sharp breath, his hands tightening in your hair. "Fuuuck, baby, that feels so good," he grunted, his hips beginning to move gently, thrusting slowly into your wet, warm mouth.
You looked up at him, your eyes smoldering, as you began to bob your head, sucking and licking, taking pleasure in your power over him.
He tasted so good, and you wanted to pleasure him, to show him how much you cared. You slid your hands up his thighs, gripping his ass, pulling him deeper into your throat as you moaned softly around him.
His movements became more urgent, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, sucking sound.
"Keep goin’ princess," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he held you in place, his cock thrusting deep into your throat. you relaxed and took him, your nails digging into his thighs as he began to cum, spurting hot and salty into your throat.
“Mmgnhguk–!” you swallowed around him, milking him with your mouth, drawing out his orgasm. as his hips stilled, you slowly pulled off him, licking your lips, a satisfied smile on your face.
He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes clouded with wanting. "That was…that was amazing, baby. But now, I needa’ to taste you." he pulled you up, crushing his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
His hands roamed your body, cupping your tits, squeezing and teasing your nipples through your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fumbling with his buttons, needing to feel skin on skin. “Mmngh–Sugu’..”
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, as guided you onto the counter, spreading your legs. As he knelt before you, his eyes hot as he pulled your pants down, revealing your wet, eager pussy. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive skin as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh.
You let out a soft whimper, anticipation coiling tight within you. Then - his tongue was on you, licking slow and deep, teasing your clit, making you squirm.
His hands gripped your knees, holding you in place as he feasted, sucking and lapping at your sweetness.
“Su-Suguru…mmnh!” you moaned his name, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him against you as your hips bucked gently.
"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he hummed against your pussy, sending vibrations through you as his tongue delved deep, then circled your sensitive clit.
"Cum for me, baby, I want to feel you cum, fuckin’ need it baby." his fingers now joined, two of them sliding inside you, curling and stroking that magic spot deep within your pussy.
You cried out, your body tightening around his fingers as your orgasm hit. He held you through it, his tongue relentless, lapping at your juices as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let go f’me," he mumbled, his voice a soft purr. As the tremors began to subside, he slowed, placing gentle kisses along your sensitive slit. Leaving you panting, your body sated, a satisfied smile on your face as you looked down at him.
He stood, both of his palms facing flat by your sides, kissing you deeply. "You did so good, pretty girl." he smirked against your mouth, his hands holding you close. "I could say the same to you handsome," you grinned back, pressing your lips to his.
#@bwere 🪽#jjk fluff#jjk smut#choso smut#choso x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#choso kamo smut#gojo smut#geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#gojo x female reader#geto x female reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#choso fluff#gojo fluff#geto fluff#getou suguru x reader#choso headcanons#kamo choso smut#choso x you#gojo x you#geto x you#choso x female reader#geto x y/n
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Let The Light In: Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Words: 2.7K
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff (?!), Friends to enemies to lovers, reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn (but we're about to be on fire).
A/N: A few hours later than planned but still, as promised! Also, time jump???!!! Lmk if we hate and if it should never be done again.
2/5/24
“Leo, I’ve told you 100 times I’m not comfortable doing shoots with Paige anymore. I really need to be taken off the schedule for tomorrow,” you insist, frustration tinging your voice. This is not the first time the two of you have had this particular conversation and you doubt it will be the last.
The morning after your talk with Paige you’d gone to Leo and told him everything. Over the course of your time at UConn Leo really had become like a second dad to you, but this was the first time you really had bothered him with your personal life.
Luckily for you, he’d been very understanding and even took you and Charlie out to breakfast. You, because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle a sobbing 20-year-old and he figured throwing free food at the problem would be relatively pacifying, and Charlie because he figured she deserved a thank you for having dealt with a sobbing 20-year-old all night (and for saving him from the unfortunate task).
The man turns to you with a heavy sigh, his eyes weary. “I’ve tried, for three months now I’ve kept you from being assigned to her, but this time I need the best of the best, and that’s you, kid. I’m sorry.”
The relationship between you and Paige had been hastily sewn back together over the past few months, a single, weak thread intertwining the two of you again. And things have, admittedly, been rougher than you’d like.
The best conversation the two of you had shared took place over the course of a two-hour-long phone call where you let her know that you’d removed yourself from any future shoots with her. She immediately argued that you hadn’t needed to do that. You disagreed, then she disagreed with that, the process repeating again, and again, and again until the two of you realized that the time on the clock was now well past midnight and it was in both of your best interests to head off to bed.
She came up to you after games, just like old times, greeting you in a quick hug and stealing your camera off your neck to flip through a couple of the photos before nodding in approval and wandering off again.
After finals you’d run into the team on a night out and joined them. Paige had walked you home, each of you drunk off your asses and using it as an excuse to cling to each other like ivy to an old brick wall. It had started snowing so you’d offered to let her stay the night, she’d said no.
The holidays stood out only for their flurry of awkward ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy New Year’ texts.
Everything else, however, had been remarkably unremarkable; seeming so insignificant that even when you were spending hours over analyzing each interaction the two of you have had, remembering these felt like a waste of time.
But now, standing in Leo’s office, for the first time in months, even with the lack of real communication, you felt that fragile thread between Paige and you threatening to snap.
“Leo, please,” you said, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “I don’t want to mess things up with Paige again. We’re barely holding on as it is.”
Leo looked at you with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. “I get it, but you’re both professionals. You can do this. It’s one shoot. Just one. After that, we can reevaluate.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “Fine,” you said finally, the word feeling like a lead weight on your tongue. “But if it becomes too much, I’m out.”
Leo nods, relieved. “I understand. Just give it your best shot.”
The next day, you arrive at the shoot early, the familiar buzz of the studio doing very little to calm your nerves. You busy yourself with setting up your equipment, trying to focus on the technical aspects to keep your mind off the impending interaction with Paige, or rather, the interaction in the setting the two of you had been trying your hardest to avoid.
When she finally walks in, your breath catches in your throat. She looks as beautiful as ever, you had desperately missed being near her, the occasional run-ins the two of you had doing very little to stifle your aching need for the blonde.
The shoot begins, the atmosphere almost painfully tense but still professional enough that Leo was satisfied. You direct her with a calm, steady voice, doing your best to maintain the distance she seems to need.
Paige follows your directions flawlessly, her movements graceful and precise. It is almost like old times, except for the invisible barrier she's put up between you.
During a break, Paige approaches you, her expression tentative. “How’s it going?” she asked softly, her eyes searching yours.
You shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “I mean, it's photography and it's you. Hard not to love it.” Admittedly, the last bit was a lie, having to capture her like this again was nerve wracking to say the least.
Sure, the picture of her on the court is what had gotten the two of you here. But in your mind, these shoots marked the beginning of the end, where you had started getting selfish with your art, where you had been given to much control and in turn, abused it.
She nods, biting her lip. “I appreciate you doing this. I know I’m kinda ruining your thing for you right now which I really didn’t want to do.”
You look at her, the sincerity in her eyes tugging at your heart. “I’m trying P.”
She looks around briefly, confirming that no one is watching before swooping down to briefly press her lips against your cheek. “I know you are.” She whispers before Leo calls everyone back to set.
By the end of the night, almost everyone had left, leaving you and Paige, who had apparently decided to stay with you a while longer instead of returning to her dorm, to pack up alone. This would have been fine if it wasn’t so eerily reminiscent of all the other times you two had worked together. Everything was just still so painfully raw, even nostalgia hurt.
As you tried desperately to busy yourself, ignoring the blondes lingering stare, Paige finally broke the silence. “Do you remember our first shoot together?” she asked softly.
You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips, there were a only a few moments the two of you have shared that didn't immediately make you tear up for one reason or another when you recall them, this was one of them.
“Yeah, I do. You were so nervous, kept fiddling with your necklace, I had to photoshop like half of those damn pictures so you weren’t grabbing at it in all of them.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I was terrified. But you made it easier. You always did.”
“It only ever felt easy when it was with you." You looked at her, the memories flooding back.
—-
The studio was buzzing with activity. Assistants scurried around, adjusting lights, setting up equipment, and preparing the backdrop. You were standing near the camera, checking the settings one last time. For you, the energy in the air was nothing short of electric, this was your game day, this was the thing you lived for.
Paige walked in, her eyes wide and filled with dread. She always liked the end result of getting her picture taken but the process was tedious and dealing with photographers could be just downright unpleasant.
She was clad in her home jersey, the navy blue 5 contrasting sharply against the stark white. She clutched the necklace around her neck, a small silver cross pendant that she would continue to fiddle with incessantly the whole day.
You looked up and saw her, your heart skipping a beat. You'd taken pictures of her before, of course, the night at the gym, a few games, and for a few homework assignments that’s she’d, thankfully, agreed to help with, but this was something else entirely, a shoot. A shoot for Leo.
"Hey, Paige," you called out, offering her a reassuring smile. "Ready?”
She walked over. "Yeah," she replied, her voice missing its usual enthusiasm.
You positioned her in front of the camera, giving her small tips on how to stand, where to look, and how to relax her shoulders. She followed your instructions diligently, though you could still see the tension in her posture.
"Remember to breathe," you said gently. "And try to think of something that makes you happy. It'll show in your eyes."
Paige closed her eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. When she opened them again, there was a spark of confidence that hadn't been there before. She smiled, and you could see the transformation happening right before your eyes.
You didn’t know at the time but all she had done was think about the night she met you.
"That's it," you encouraged, your own excitement growing with hers. "Just like that."
As the shoot progressed, Paige began to relax more, her movements becoming more fluid and natural.
You clicked the shutter repeatedly, the two of you inventing a silent language; thumbs up: all done with this look, change your pose, thumbs down: this isn’t working, give me a second to do change things on my end, palm out: stay still, etc, etc.
By the end of the day, you had captured a series of stunning photographs, each one better than the last as she had gotten more and more used to being in front of your camera.
As you packed up your equipment, Paige had approached you, her eyes shining with renewed sense of excitement. "Need a ride?”
"Oh no it’s okay, thank you so much though” you replied, turning to the girl. “I’m just gonna walk.”
She smiled, her fingers once again playing with her necklace. "No come on, it’s late, I’m driving you.”
You had hesitated despite already knowing your answer, “only if you’re sure," you said, unable to hide your relief.
The two of you left the studio together, stepping into the crisp evening air. The city was quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a serene calm. Paige led you to her car, popping the trunk and helping you load all of your stuff safely in the back.
Once inside, you both settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle as Paige adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. You glanced at her, noticing the way the streetlights cast a soft glow on her face.
"Wanna get ice cream?” Paige said suddenly, breaking the silence. “There’s this cute little place nearby and I’m starving, plus there’s no way the dining hall is still serving dinner.” She’d been so nervous that her words had come out in one breath. It would have been more than just bordering on incoherent if you hadn’t been giving her every single ounce of your attention already, clinging to every word.
You looked at her, surprised by the sudden change in plans but also grateful for the suggestion. You were starving. “Let’s do it.”
Paige grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she turned the car around and headed towards the ice cream parlor. The streets were quiet, the cool evening air settling over you two.
When you arrived, the bell above the door had chimed softly as Paige opened the door for you. The smell of freshly made waffle cones and the sound of soft music filled the air.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that the song playing was the one on an old Etta James record. The same one your grandmother had said was playing at the jazz club her and your grandfather had gone to on their first date. But, you pay in no mind, all of your conscious thoughts consumed by the blonde in front of you.
The parlor was cozy, with a few small tables and a counter displaying a rainbow of ice cream flavors. Paige immediately made her way to the counter, her eyes wide with delight as she scanned the options.
“What are you getting?” she asked, turning to you.
You took a moment to consider, then decided on your usual favorite. “I do this weird thing, I get two kiddie scoops, one cherry and one strawberry and mix them. When I was a kid, my mom used to get strawberry and I used to get cherry and she’d always let me have her leftovers so I mixed them together one day and now I can’t eat ice cream any other way.” You said, smiling.
Despite the fact that you had known Paige for a month, the expression on her face when you told her this was one that could only be described as love struck. There was a gentle warmth in her eyes that caused your heartbeat to quicken and your breath to catch in your throat. It was as if the entire world had melted away and all that remained was the two of you, standing there in that moment, caught up in each other's unspoken affection.
“Here, how ‘bout I get strawberry, and we can do that. You’ve got me curious now” she said.
“Deal. You won’t regret it.” You’d chuckled, reaching your hand out to hers for her to shake, you really had just wanted an excuse to touch her.
You both placed your orders, and the worker, recognizing Paige, had scooped more than generous portions of ice cream into the two cups.
Paige handed you your cherry scoop, and you both sat down at a small table near the window. Paige took a bite of her strawberry scoop, then mixed a bit of it with your cherry. She paused, the spoon still dangling out of her mouth, and her eyes lit up. “Shit this is really good.”
A smile quickly spread across you face. “Told ya.”
For a moment, you both sat in comfortable silence. Each of you dipping into each others cups, giggling when one of your spoons got caught on the others, inevitably making the dessert fall back into the bowl it had just been scooped from. The world outside the window seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy little bubble.
When Paige had finished hers and the remainder of yours after you’d pushed your leftovers at her, the two of you returned to the car.
The drive home wasn’t long but the combination of your fatigue from the long day and the gentle rocking of her car had made you fall asleep without even realizing what was happening.
Pulled up at your dorm, she gently shook your shoulder, “hey, we’re here.”
You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment, then realized where you were.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Paige smiled, her expression tender. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a long day.”
You gathered your things and hesitated for a moment, not wanting the evening to end.
“Thanks for the ice cream, Paige. And for everything else.”
“Anytime,” she replied, her voice sincere. “Get some rest, okay?”
You nodded, stepping out of the car. “You too. Goodnight, Paige.”
“Goodnight,” she said, watching you walk no more than 10 steps away from the car before she was rolling down her car window to talk to you again, “hey, same time next week?”
You’d turned back to her, confused. “What?”
“Ice cream, you and me, next Thursday. Come on it’ll be like, our thing.”
A warmth spread through you at the suggestion, and you found yourself smiling back at her. “Yeah, I’d like that. Ice cream Thursday.”
“Awesome,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s a date then. Goodnight for real this time.”
“Night,” you said, waving as she drove away, her taillights disappearing into the night.
—-
“Hey do you need a ride home, for old times sake?” Paige grabs your attention again as you let the memory fade from into the background.
She's rocking back and forth on her heels as you finish packing up; obviously trying to gauge whether or not she’s overstepping.
You grab the rest of your bags, replying, “that’d be great, thank you" before getting an idea, "hey you know, it’s Thursday, we’ve missed dinner, and if you’re free, I think our ice cream place is still open.”
Paige’s eyes light up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're on."
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige buckets#paige bueckers fic#wcbb#wcbb x reader#wlw#uconn huskies#paige bueckers fanfiction#paige bueckers headcannons#fanfic#angst#wbb#paige bueckers angst
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'I've been praying, I never did before'
Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader
summary: you prayed to God to send you the answers. Should you stay with Joel or leave him?
w.c: 5k>
warnings: angst and cheating.
a/n: this one is based on this ask a lovely anon (🍫) sent the other day. (thanks for your support, I hope I made it justice) and I hope you all like it. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
You weren't a religious person.
You believed in God, but your devotion didn't go beyond the necklace's cross and your eloquent prayers asking for the protection of your loved ones.
You weren't a religious person, but you thought God sent Joel to you that night at the bar when a wasted man thought he had some power over you just because you wore a short dress. Everyone should have seen his face the night he first got you.
And you thought God rewrote the prophecy of your failed luck in love.
Joel, the sweetheart. Joel, the loving, thoughtful, and faithful.
Joel Miller, your boyfriend of six years.
Not rings, not clues of him saying you loved beyond the whispers in your ear when he had his arm wrapped around your waist in public, showing you off to hide you from the rest of the world once the lights weren’t on you.
The first signs of your love rusting into scarlet maroon.
At first, you brushed them off, attributing the occasional cold shoulders or the missing date nights to stress, life’s inevitable distractions, or nights of hard work. But deep down, you felt the shift. The whispers of doubt crept in, subtle yet persistent, like the gradual erosion of a once impenetrable fortress.
All the vipers are moaning in mourning for you and your poor wounded heart, already cracking due to the daggers thrown at you in poisoned words.
Joel made you feel invincible, loved, and worthy of something as warm as the golden dawn. However, his eyes, once brimming with affection, now flickered with a hint of something words couldn’t speak. His somber eyes matched the gray clouds before the storm on a cloudy day, with no defense or barbed wire to keep you warm. You tried to bridge the growing chasm with gestures of love and attempts at rekindling the spark, but it felt like grasping at smoke.
The nights grew longer, and the silences became more pronounced. You found yourself reminiscing about the early days, the nights spent talking until dawn, the effortless laughter, and the shared dreams you were supposed to build. Those memories felt like a lifeline, a reminder of what once was and what you desperately wanted to reclaim as yours.
Yet, the more you clung to the past, the more it slipped through your fingers. Joel's once warm embraces became mechanical, his kisses lacking the fervor they once held. No more lips attached to your forehead for protection. The blaze on your sheets, once fueled by the fire of your touches, has now become a simple ritual, devoid of connection.
You began to wonder if you had misread the signs, if perhaps you had mistaken God's intervention for a fleeting moment of serendipity. The love that had once felt like destiny now seemed like a chapter nearing its end. The vibrant hues of your relationship had faded, leaving behind a tapestry woven with threads of doubt and broken promises.
In the quiet moments of solitude, when you waited by the door, hoping for Joel to step into the house, you wondered how the red roses he brought grew back as thorns, hurting your fingers as much as when you touched his skin. Would you be able to build a fort after this storm?
"Dad isn’t here yet?" Sarah interrupted your thoughts from the stairs, her wide eyes gazing into yours with the same worry drawn on them.
"No, sweetheart, not yet," you replied, trying to mask your own anxiety with a reassuring smile.
Sarah descended the stairs slowly, her small frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the hallway. She reached your side and leaned against you, her presence a small comfort in the growing uncertainty.
"Did he say he would be late?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
You shook your head. "He didn't say anything, Sarah. Maybe he's just caught up at work."
But you both knew it was more than that. The nights he came home late were becoming more frequent; the excuses were absurd. The distance between you and Joel was no longer just emotional; it was physical, an ever-widening gap that neither of you seemed able to bridge.
"We'll wait a little longer," you said, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "He'll be home soon."
Together, you stood in the hallway, the silence stretching out, heavy and oppressive. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a reminder of the uncertainty that now defined your lives.
Sarah was thirteen; she wasn’t naïve when it came to your somber eyes growing gray with each passing day. How do your luminous smiles become a sad smirk just for the sake of pretending?
And as you waited, you couldn't help but wonder if the prophecy of your failed luck in love had been rewritten after all, not by God but by the slow, inevitable decay of a love that once seemed eternal.
The memory flooded back, a vibrant contrast to the present. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the air filled with the scent of fallen leaves. You and Joel had decided to escape the city for a day, driving out to the countryside without any particular destination in mind.
“Where are we going?” you had asked, laughter in your voice as the wind whipped through the open car windows.
“Somewhere beautiful,” Joel replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You ended up at a secluded lake, its surface like glass reflecting the fiery colors of the trees surrounding it. Joel spread out a blanket, and you both sat down, your shoulders touching, sharing the warmth of the moment.
“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.
He turned to you, his face inches from yours. “You’re perfect,” he said softly before capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like the first rays of sunshine after a storm.
You spent the afternoon there, talking about everything and nothing, your conversations punctuated by comfortable silences filled with the sound of nature and the beating of your hearts. Joel picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the lake’s surface.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, Joel pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “I’ve been writing something,” he admitted, looking almost shy. “About us.”
You felt a lump in your throat as he read aloud, his deep voice weaving words of love and dreams of a future together. It was in that moment you realized just how deeply Joel had intertwined with your soul, making you believe in a forever you had always been skeptical of.
“Marry me someday,” he had said, not as a question but as a promise.
“Someday,” you had agreed, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and endless possibilities.
That day, everything felt like a love story from a book, each written page filled with the promise that seemed far from the truth now.
You thought of God when you walked towards the church, seeking prayers and perhaps answers about the fate of your written story with Joel.
The voices were getting to your head, as were the flashbacks from the first night. Puzzle pieces on the dead end of a relationship reeking of putrefaction. You should've known better; flowers die of thirst after being picked.
You thought of the nights. Joel came home late—the missed dinners, the cold shoulders. Each instance is a small fracture, barely noticeable at first but gradually accumulating into a chasm. You thought of the way his kisses had lost their warmth, becoming mere pecks devoid of passion. You had tried to hold on, to rekindle the flame, but it was like trying to grasp water with your hands—it slipped through your fingers, elusive and unattainable.
Dolls are pretty inside their boxes, then they are taken out, played with, worn down, and eventually discarded. You felt like that doll, once cherished and now left on a shelf, gathering dust.
"God," you murmured, "if you can hear me, please show me what to do. Show me how to fix this, or give me the strength to let go."
But how would you resist his charming promises after he had stolen your wounded heart, fixed you, and made you feel like you belonged somewhere?
Once you reached the bench, you got on your knees, clasping your hands together, and prayed to the Lord. You begged him to give you answers.
Should I stay with Joel? Or should I take this knife to my lungs and remove it?
There was nothing more humiliating than begging God that somebody would love you the way you wanted. You have let people love you the way you thought you deserved.
Please
Your golden bracelet was fading into a scarlet maroon as you clasped your palms together, praying.
Please
You prayed, trying not to imagine Joel shoving his dick into some other woman.
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on you like a weight on your shoulders. But in that silence, you felt a flicker of something—hope, perhaps, or maybe just a sense of acceptance. You realized that, whether you found a way to mend your relationship or decided to walk away, you would survive. You would find a way to heal, even with your heart in pieces.
As you stood to leave, you took one last look at the altar, the candles still flickering stubbornly against the darkness. You walked out of the church with a little more resolve.
You wake up in the middle of the night. Joel is there, breathing with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You watch him for a moment, your heart aching with the memories of what used to be. Since when did you become a footnote in the story of his life?
Unable to find solace in the darkness, you slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. The floor is cool beneath your feet as you make your way downstairs, the house silent except for the faint creaks and groans of settling wood. You head to the kitchen, seeking the comfort of a warm cup of tea—something to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your soul.
You fill the kettle and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner igniting the only sound breaking the stillness. As you wait for the water to boil, you lean against the counter, your thoughts drifting back to the early days with Joel, when love was a fire that warmed you both.
The kettle whistles, jolting you from your reverie. You pour the steaming water over a tea bag, and the fragrant aroma of chamomile rises to meet you. As you stir the tea, you hear the soft padding of footsteps behind you. Turning, you see Joel standing in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep.
“What’s wrong?” You asked with a clear intention behind those words.
“It’s cold,” he answered. "I missed your warmth," he added, his voice a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken feelings. "It's cold without you."
You swallow hard, the words catching a lump in your throat. "I couldn't sleep," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed some tea.”
Joel steps closer, the dim light casting shadows on his face. "I know things have been... different lately. Distant. I don't want it to be like this."
Here it comes: another lie to cage you.
You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind. You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind.
“Do you love me?” you asked.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I love you.” He assured you. “Life just got complicated, I guess. Work, responsibilities... but that's no excuse. I've let us drift apart, and I'm sorry."
You meet his eyes, searching for the truth in them. "I miss us," you admit, your voice breaking. "I miss what we had."
Joel reached out, his hand warm as it covered yours. Promising something without evoking words, as if his touch would be able to evoke the fire you used to feel when his hand touched your skin.
“You can go back to bed,” you said, breaking the suffocating silence settled between the two of you. “I’ll drink my tea first.”
Joel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
You watched him walk back up the stairs, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken promises and unresolved tensions. The quiet in the kitchen seemed even more profound after he left. You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tea seep into your hands, trying to find comfort in its simplicity.
The minutes stretched on as you sipped your tea, your thoughts swirling like the steam rising from the cup. When the tea was gone, you washed the cup and placed it on the counter, taking one last moment to collect yourself before heading back upstairs.
When you entered the bedroom, Joel was already lying on his side of the bed, his back to you. You slipped under the covers; the sheets cooled against your skin. You turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence felt different now—less oppressive and more like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.
You settled into your usual spot, leaving a small gap between you and Joel. But before you could close your eyes, you felt him shift. He turned towards you, his arms reaching out and wrapping around your middle. It was a tentative embrace, but it was the first sign of love he had shown you in a while.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the familiar warmth of his body against yours. You relaxed into his hold, feeling the weight of his arm around you and the steady beat of his heart against your back.
"I miss this," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness.
You placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I miss it too," you replied softly.
In the quiet of the night, wrapped in Joel's arms, you felt a flicker of hope. The path to healing and rediscovering each other would be long, but in that moment, you both took a step towards it.
The next morning, you woke up feeling the absence of Joel's warmth beside you. The space where he had lain was cool, and the sheets were undisturbed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and sat up. As you looked around the room, you noticed Joel at the foot of the bed, quietly packing a suitcase.
A pang of confusion and worry shot through you. "Joel?" you called softly, your voice still heavy with sleep. "What's going on?"
Joel looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and resignation. "I'm leaving for the conference," he said, zipping up the suitcase with a firm pull.
Your heart sank. "What?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "You didn't tell me you had a conference."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I’m sorry. It came up last minute, and I didn't want to worry you."
"But you're just leaving now? Without saying anything until now?" The hurt in your voice was palpable, the sense of déjà vu from last night's conversation lingering in the air.
Joel's eyes softened with regret. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't handle it well. I'm going with my boss, and we'll be back in a few days."
Your mind raced, trying to process his words. "Going with your boss? Why didn't you tell me about this before?" You knew he was saying the truth, and you had come to the conclusion that all the affection he showed you last night was pretending to ease you.
He hesitated, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "It’s been hectic at work, and honestly, I didn't want to add more stress to everything."
You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield against the emotional chill. "We talked last night about making more time for each other, and now you're leaving without a word."
Joel stepped closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I know, and I promise we'll talk more when I get back. I want to work on us, really."
You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for sincerity. "I hope to be here for when you come back.”
"Don’t be like this, please," Joel replied, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't want to lose you, not after everything."
You forced a small smile, though it felt hollow. "Just be honest with me, Joel. About everything."
He nodded, his expression earnest. "I will. I promise."
With a heavy heart, you watched as Joel gathered his things and headed for the door. As it closed behind him, the emptiness of the house seemed to swallow you whole. You sank onto the couch, feeling lost and alone in the wake of his departure.
As the minutes stretched into hours, you found yourself unable to shake the nagging feeling of doubt that had settled in the pit of your stomach. Joel's sudden departure, coupled with his vague explanations, left you feeling unsettled and suspicious.
You paced the empty rooms of the house, your thoughts spiraling out of control. What if Joel wasn't really at a conference? What if he was with her and the secretary you knew had feelings for him?
The mere thought sent a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through you. You had noticed the way she looked at Joel and the way she always seemed to find excuses to be near him. And now, with Joel gone on this supposed trip, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. Should you call him? Text him?
But before you could make a decision, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The lack of sleep, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the morning, left you feeling drained and defeated.
You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears threatened to spill over, but you fought to hold them back. You couldn't let yourself fall apart, not now.
As you sat on the couch, overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion, a sudden surge of determination washed over you. You couldn't just sit there, stewing in your doubts and fears. You needed answers, and you needed them now.
With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone and quickly searched for Joel's location. Your heart pounded in your chest as the GPS map pinpointed his whereabouts—an upscale hotel here in the city, not at all where he had claimed to be.
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Joel wasn't at a conference. He was right here, in the same city as you, but he had lied to you.
You were someone who, until recently, he had shared secrets with, and now he was keeping them from you.
Despite the exhaustion and emotional turmoil, a fierce determination burned within you to confront him and demand answers.
With shaky hands, you dialed a taxi, your mind racing with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. How could Joel, someone you had shared your deepest secrets with, now keep such a significant secret from you?
As you waited for the taxi to arrive, the minutes felt like hours, each passing second amplifying the turmoil within you. But you refused to let the uncertainty consume you. You needed to know the truth, even if it shattered the facade of your relationship.
Finally, the taxi pulled up outside your house, and you climbed inside, the anticipation building with every passing moment. The ride to the hotel felt interminable, the streets passing by in a blur as your thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion.
When you arrived, you paid the fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat of your anger. The imposing facade of the hotel loomed before you, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of your life.
As you entered the lobby of the hotel, your heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at you, driving you forward with a relentless need for answers.
Just as you were about to approach the reception desk to inquire about Joel's room, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With trembling hands, you retrieved it, seeing Joel's name flashing on the screen.
For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over the answer button. But then, steeling yourself for whatever confrontation awaited you, you pressed accept.
"Hello?" you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within you.
"Hey, babe," Joel's voice came through the line, sounding casual and unconcerned. "Just checking in. How’s Sarah? How's your evening going?"
Your grip tightened on the phone, anger bubbling up inside you at his nonchalant tone. "She is good; everything is fine," you replied tersely. "Just fine."
Joel seemed oblivious to your tone as he continued to chatter about the conference, complaining about how boring it was and how tedious it was to spend time with his boss.
As he prattled on, your mind raced with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his words seemed to confirm his alibi—unless, of course, he was lying through his teeth. On the other hand, his casual dismissal of your concerns only fueled your suspicions.
When he finally paused to take a breath, you seized the opportunity to interject. "Joel, where are you right now?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, waiting for his response.
"I'm still at the conference," he said finally, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why? What's going on?"
You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "I see," you said through gritted teeth. "Well, have fun at your conference, Joel. Goodbye."
As you sat in the lobby, the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Doubt gnawed at you, eating away at your resolve as you questioned whether you had been mistaken about Joel's whereabouts. Maybe he really was at the conference, and you were letting your suspicions get the better of you.
Just as you were about to give up and leave, your gaze drifted toward the entrance of the hotel. And there, walking through the doors, was Joel, his arm wrapped around the waist of his secretary, her laughter echoing in the cavernous lobby.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched them, your heart plummeting to the pit of your stomach. You felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of your lungs as the truth stared you in the face.
Joel's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, his face went white as if he had seen a ghost. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal wash over you, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.
As the truth of Joel's betrayal hit you like a freight train, panic seized hold of you, squeezing your chest in a vice-like grip. The world seemed to spin around you, and you struggled to catch your breath as waves of nausea washed over you.
One of the receptionists noticed your distress and hurried over to offer assistance. "Are you alright, miss? Can I help you?" they asked, their voice laced with concern.
You could only shake your head, unable to form coherent words as tears welled up in your eyes.
But before you could fully process what was happening, Joel appeared, his face etched with panic and concern. "Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" he exclaimed, rushing to your side and reaching out to steady you.
Your heart twisted at the sight of him, the betrayal stabbing at you like a knife. "Don't touch me," you choked out, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden, as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your anguish. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice breaking with pain. "How could you do this to me?"
His eyes widened in realization, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of guilt and regret flash across his features. "I can explain," he began, but you couldn't bear to hear his excuses.
The pain was too raw and overwhelming, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of hurt and confusion. With trembling limbs, you pushed yourself to your feet, shaking off Joel's attempts to console you as you stumbled towards the exit.
"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice hollow and distant as you fled from the scene of your heartbreak.
As you stumbled towards the exit, Joel's voice followed you, pleading and desperate. "Wait, please, just let me explain," he called out, his footsteps echoing in the empty lobby as he chased after you.
But you couldn't bear to listen to his excuses; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. Anger bubbled up within you, a fierce fire burning away the remnants of the love you had once felt for him.
When you reached the cool night air outside, you turned to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. "Explain?" you spat, the word bitter on your tongue. "What could you possibly say to justify this?"
Joel's expression was a mask of guilt and regret as he reached out to touch your arm, but you jerked away from him, the sting of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "I made a mistake," he began, his voice pleading. "I never meant to hurt you."
"You never meant to hurt me?" You scoffed, incredulous. "You lied to me, Joel. You betrayed my trust and our relationship. How could you think that wouldn't hurt me?"
He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I know I messed up, but please give me a chance to make it right. I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."
But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of anger and pain that filled your mind. "I don't want to hear it," you spat. “I gave you six years of my life to you!” you sobbed. “Six years wasted on you, you fucking asshole!” you began to hit in the chest.
With a surge of emotion, you lashed out, your fists pounding against his chest with a force fueled by years of love and betrayal. Each blow was a release, a cathartic expression of the pain and anger that consumed you.
But even as you struck out at him, the tears streaming down your face, you knew that no amount of violence could erase the pain of his betrayal. And as Joel stood before you, his face contorted with remorse, you realized that the love you had once felt for him was now nothing more than a bitter memory.
With tears still staining your cheeks, you turned away from Joel, your heart heavy with the weight of his betrayal. Every step felt like a struggle as you made your way back home, the echoes of your confrontation with Joel still ringing in your ears.
As you entered the familiar surroundings of your home, you felt a sense of overwhelming exhaustion wash over you. But there was no time to rest, no respite from the storm of emotions raging within you.
With a heavy sigh, you began to gather your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built with Joel. Your hands trembled as you packed your clothes and personal effects, the tears flowing freely as you grappled with the reality of your shattered dreams.
In the midst of your turmoil, the sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face a mask of desperation and remorse. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry; I'll do anything to make things right."
But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him; you couldn't bear to see the pain and betrayal reflected in his eyes. With a heavy heart, you turned away, focusing on the task at hand as you continued to pack your things.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
But before you could respond, Joel stepped forward, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Sarah, we had a disagreement," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the situation to her, but you squared your shoulders and turned to face Joel and Sarah. "I'm leaving," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging within you. "I need some time to figure things out, but I'll always be here for Sarah.”
With that, you gathered your belongings and made your way to the door, leaving behind the shattered remnants of the life you had once known. As you stepped out into the night, the weight of your decision hung heavy around you, but deep down, you knew that it was the only choice you could make.
As you stepped outside, the cool night air washed over you, but there was no relief from the turmoil raging within. Joel's footsteps echoed behind you, his desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as you continued to walk away.
"Please, just listen to me," Joel begged, his voice thick with emotion.
But you couldn't bear to hear his words; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. With a surge of anger and frustration, you whirled around to face him, your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap.
The sound of the slap echoed in the stillness of the night, a resounding declaration of your pain and betrayal. Joel staggered back, his hand flying to his stinging cheek as he stared at you in shock.
"How dare you?" You spat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "How dare you come after me, after what you've done?"
You turned away from Joel, refusing to let him see the depth of your pain. Without another word, you continued to walk away, leaving him standing alone in the darkness.
As you disappeared into the night, the sting of your slap still lingering on his cheek, Joel knew that he had lost you for good.
Your prayers have been answered by God.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal
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5+5 (Ways to Smut) - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
You know the drill by now, there's 5 snippets of things he loves and other 5 of things he loves to do.
request: "I love fluffy with Lewis, but you could write "ways to say I love you" but in sex? maybe little things that lewis and yn do before and during sex" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities
Also, wrap it before you tap it
wordcount: +3K
a/n: I had a great time writing those, hope guys like it as well.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
______________________________________________________________
Things he loves
Lightly bitting on his lower lips
Lewis's movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust measured and filled with a tender intensity that left Y/n breathless. She clung to him, her hands sliding up his back, nails grazing his skin in a way that was certain to leave marks.
Their eyes locked, the world outside be damned, only the two of them in their intimate dance.
She reached up, her fingers threading through his braids as she pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips meeting in the midst of moans and breathing. The taste of each other maddening.
With a soft, playful growl, she bit down gently on his lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh just enough to get him to hiss, the sound vibrating against her lips, a deep, primal noise that made her heart race.
"Y/n" he murmured, his voice rough with warning.
She smiled against his lips, her teeth releasing his lower lip slowly. "Yeah?!" she whispered, teasingly with a breathy tone.
He captured her mouth again, his kiss more urgent this time, spurred on by her boldness. Each thrust grew a little faster, a little deeper, his body responding to her antics. She bit his lip again, a little harder this time, and he moaned into her mouth, his hips snapping forward in response.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly, pulling her closer, deeper. She could feel his need, his desire, in every movement, in every desperate kiss and touch.
She arched against him, her body surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her veins. "So do you" she panted, her voice trembling.
Their rhythm grew frenzied, a wild dance that pushed them both to the brink. She bit his lip once more, this time to suppress her moans for becoming too loud. His response was immediate, a guttural groan that vibrated through his whole body.
With a final, deep thrust, he found his release, their cries mingling in the quiet of the room. He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, their bodies still joined.
As their breathing slowed, he pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of awe and affection. He traced her lower lips with his finger, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You really like biting, huh?"
She laughed softly, kissing the digit he left in her lips. "Only when it's you" she replied, her voice filled with warmth and love.
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Good" he whispered. "Because I love it."
That first touch on his dick after teasing
Her lips danced over his skin, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake. Each touch was gentle, teasing, a tantalizing promise of what she had in mind for him.
They both could feel the tension building, the electric charge that crackled in the air with every brush of their bodies. But she wasn't content with mere kisses; she wanted to drive him wild, to push him to the brink of madness with need.
She let her hands roam, tracing lazy patterns across his chest, lingering over the sharp contours of his muscles. And then, with a daring grin, she let her fingers drift lower, hovering over the sensitive skin of his abdomen until they found their target.
She could feel the heat radiating from him, the unmistakable evidence of his desire throbbing.
She touched him lightly, reveling in the sharp intake of breath that escaped him. His reaction only spurring her on, emboldening her to explore further, to stoke the flames of his passion until he was consumed by it.
With a playful giggle and a smirk later, she finally wrapped her fingers around him, relishing in the way he twitched in response to her touch.
She began to stroke him slowly, her movements deliberate and measured. He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as he arched against her, seeking more of her touch.
But she held him back, keeping him on the edge of bliss, teasing him with the promise of release.
And then, just when he thought he couldn't take any more, she leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "Do you want me?" she whispered, her voice tempting him.
He could only nod, his words failing him as pleasure washed over him in waves. She smiled, her lips brushing against his lips in a feather-light kiss. "Then show me" she murmured, her fingers tightening around his length as she urged him to take what he desired.
Hitched breathing in his ears as he thrusts
He hovered over her, his body poised, their breaths mingling in the heated air between them. His senses were heightened. Every touch, every sound, magnified in the intensity of the moment.
But it was the hitch in her breathing, the soft gasps that escaped her lips with each of his thrusts, the sharp intake of air, that got most of his attentions, that drove him to push her further, to take her to the brink of pleasure and beyond.
He watched her closely, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face, the flush that spread across her, the way her lips parted in pleasure. She was a vision of what he believed to be heaven; her eyes closed in blissful surrender.
With each movement of his body, he felt her response, her moans growing louder, her grip on him tightening. He quickened his pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.
He lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. But even as he felt his release building, his focus remained fixed on her, on the way her body responded to his touch, the way her breath kept on hitching.
When it happened – her back arched and she stopped breathing for a few moments as she tumbled over the edge. He watched in awe as pleasure washed over her, then her cries echoing in the room, mingling with his own ragged breaths.
Grabbing his hips and buckling hers to pull him ever deeper
Her nails dug into his hips, her grip firm as she urged him deeper into her. The heat between them was palpable, their bodies moving in sync, a symphony of desire and passion.
With each thrust, she pulled him closer, her hips rising to meet his with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
He groaned at the sensation, the pressure of her nails sending bolts of electricity straight to his core. It was a primal need, a raw desire that pulsed through them both, driving them to seek each other.
She wrapped her legs around his back, locking him in place as she arched against him, offering herself completely to his touch. Her muscles tensed with each movement, her body aching for release, for the sweet oblivion that awaited.
Lewis surrendered to her, letting her guide him, dictate their pace. He was lost in the sensation, in the overwhelming need to possess her completely, to lose himself in the depths of her passion.
Their bodies moved as one, a tangled mess of limbs and desire, each touch, each kiss, pushing them closer. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, they soared, their cries filling the room as they tumbled into the abyss.
Light dragging her nail on his back as he comes down from his orgasm
He collapsed against her body, his breath ragged and heart racing. The room was silent, save for the faint heavy breathing. The tension melting away, a profound peace that seemed to radiate from them.
His forehead rested on her shoulder, braids sticking to her skin as he tried to steady his pulse. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the smell of her skin and hormones.
Then he felt it – the delicate drag of her nails against his back. It started at his shoulder blades, the lightest of touches, rekindling the embers of fire that had just been extinguished.
She traced lazy patterns, her touch both soothing and tantalizing. He let out a low groan, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.
Every movement of her fingers felt like a spark, a trail of fire across his skin. It was as if she was writing a secret language, each stroke a word, each swirl a sentence. Her touch was an intimate conversation that only they could understand.
Lewis managed to lift his head, his eyes finding hers. There was a soft glow in her gaze, a mix of tenderness and mischief that made his heart flip.
She was watching him closely, taking in every little reaction, every gasp and shiver. Her lips curved into a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the power she held over him in that moment.
He reached up, cupping her chin in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "You're a menace" he murmured, his voice light with amusement.
Her smile widened, and she leaned into his touch, her nails still dancing on his back. "Aren’t we both?!" she replied softly, her fingers drifting lower, tracing the curve of his spine. The gentle pressure of her nails was maddening, a sweet torture that kept him suspended in a state of blissful arousal.
Lewis closed his eyes, savoring the moment, the feel of her against him, the intoxicating mix of them.
As her nails continued their lazy exploration, he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The scent of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body – it was all he needed.
Things he loves to do
Grunts as he focus on his thrusts
The room was dimly lit, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over their intertwined bodies. They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, their bodies perfectly in sync, each thrust a rehearsed move done another thousand times before.
Lewis's grunts filled the room, deep, guttural, each sound a witness to the effort he put into every movement. Y/n watched him, her eyes full with admiration and love. She could see the concentration etched on his face, the way his muscles tensed and flexed, the intensity of his focus as he lost himself in them.
She reached up, her fingers locking on the lines of his jaw. "I love the sounds you make" she murmured; her voice filled with affection.
He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a burning intensity. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice rough, breathless.
She nodded, her hand sliding down to rest on his shoulder, feeling the power in his movements. "I love how vocal you are." Her voice coming out in puffs.
He groaned at her words, his thrusts growing more insistent, more urgent. "I can't help it. You make me feel so good" he confessed, his voice a low rumble.
Her heart swelled at his words, her own pleasure mounting with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his grunts muffled against her mouth. "It's because of you" he murmured between kisses. "You make me feel like this.”
Being woken by his morning wood
Y/n stirred from her slumber feeling the familiar warmth of his body pressed against her, an arm draped possessively over her waist.
But it was the distinct sensation of his morning arousal that truly woke her, the hard length of him pressing insistently against her thigh.
She smiled to herself, enjoying the intimate moment, but aware of how bashful he could get about this natural occurrence. Despite the countless mornings they'd shared, the way he'd blush and stammer never failed to amuse and endear him to her.
Turning in his arms, she was met with the sight of his sleep-tousled loose curls and the serene expression on his face. She took a moment to simply appreciate him, the vulnerability in his relaxed state, the quiet strength that he exuded even in sleep.
Gently, she shifted closer, pressing her body against his. The movement caused him to stir, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal those deep, soulful eyes.
There was a moment of sleepy confusion before realization dawned, and she saw the telltale embarrassment creeping up on him features.
"Morning," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
He cleared his throat, attempting a casual smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Morning," he replied, his voice low and rough.
She couldn't resist teasing him, her hand sliding down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. "Seems like someone is happy to see me," she murmured, her tone playful.
He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Can't help it" he mumbled; his breath warm against her skin. "You know how it is."
She chuckled softly, her fingers continuing their journey until they wrapped around his morning wood. He inhaled sharply, his body tensing at her touch. "No need to be shy" she reassured him; her voice gentle. "Besides, I love waking up to this."
He lifted his head, meeting her gaze with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "You make it sound so easy" he said, his lips curving into a shy smile.
"Well, because it is" she replied, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, eliciting a shudder from him. "And it feels good, doesn't it?"
His eyes darkened with arousal, the last remnants of his shyness melting away. "Hm" his voice barely more than a whisper.
She leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss, her hand continuing its gentle exploration. The tension in his body dissolved, replaced by a growing heat as he surrendered to her touch.
Slipping in after, staying inside for a little while longer
They lay together, their bodies still tangled as they both came down from their climax. The air thick with the heady scent of sweat and sex, their hearts still racing from the intensity.
As they caught their breath, Lewis shifted slightly, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/n's lips before pulling back to look into her eyes.
"That was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to capture the moment.
"Something" Y/n finished for him; her voice filled with awe.
He smiled, the corners of his lips quirking up in a tender expression. "Yeah" he agreed softly. "It really was."
They lay there in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in the glow of their shared ecstasy. And then, without a word, Lewis shifted again, slipping inside Y/n with a slow, gentle movement.
She gasped at the sensation, her eyes rolling in surprise. But before she could truly moan, he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her with a soft shush.
"Just for a little while longer," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Don’t want to let you go just yet.”
Y/n squeezed his hands in response, her heart swelling with emotion. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed together in a perfect fit.
Slowly rubbing his dick on the inside of her thigh
They lay in a tangle of sheets, their bodies warm and relaxed from the intimacy they had experienced earlier, a tray of fruits at their feet as he fed her.
Lewis turned to her, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and mischief. He gently slid his hand down her side, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. She shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he moved his body up and closer to hers.
He left the tray to the side, positioning himself on his knees right in front of her, slowly rubbing his new found erection along the inside of her thigh.
She bit her lip, her breath hitching as she felt the heat of him against her skin. "Lew" she whispered, her voice a mix of need and anticipation.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he continued his slow, deliberate movements. "Shh" he murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Just feel"
She closed her eyes, surrendering to the exquisite torment of his touch. His hand slid down to her thigh, holding her in place as he rubbed against her, the friction building a delicious tension between them. Her fingers gripped the sheets, her body arching towards him, craving more.
He kissed her neck, his lips soft and insistent, adding to the growing heat between them. Each slow, measured stroke of his dick against her thigh drove her wild, the teasing only increasing her desires.
"Please" she breathed, her voice barely audible.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers, filled with passion. "Not yet" he whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I want to make this last."
She moaned softly; the anticipation nearly unbearable. But she trusted him, knew that he would take her to the edge and beyond, that the sweet agony of waiting would only make their eventual release all the more powerful.
His movements grew insistent, the slow, rhythmic rubbing driving them both to the brink. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, her body aching for the moment when he would finally give in and take her completely.
And then, just as she was about to snap and take him in her hands, he paused, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss and his dick stretching her all over again.
Sucking on his fingers after getting you off
The room was still, the only sound the faint hum of the night outside the window. Y/n lay back, her body still vibrating with pleasure, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Lewis sat in front of her spread legs, his eyes dark with satisfaction and a lingering desire.
He looked at her, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he raised his hand, his fingers glistening with her essence. Slowly, deliberately, he brought them to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched, entranced, as he parted his lips and took his fingers in, his tongue swirling around them, savoring her taste.
She bit her lip, her eyes wide with desire. He moaned softly, the sound vibrating through the quiet room, as if savoring the most exquisite delicacy.
"You're incredible" he murmured around his fingers, his voice low and husky. His gaze remained locked on hers, the connection between them electric.
Her breath hitched, a flush spreading across her cheeks but yet, she couldn't look away, mesmerized by the intimate, sensual display. He continued to suck on his fingers, his eyes dark with hunger.
"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr, his fingers sliding from his mouth with a soft, wet sound.
She nodded; her voice caught in her throat. "Yeah" she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
He moved closer, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Good" he said softly "Because I love making you feel that way."
He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, tasting her, teasing her. As they kissed, she could feel the heat building once again. His fingers, still damp from their earlier exploration, slid down her body.
He pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with hers, his eyes dark with need. "I want to taste you again" he whispered, his voice a rough caress.
Her heart raced, her body arching towards him in silent invitation. "Not stopping you" she replied, a smirk to her lips that told him all he needed to know.
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lewis hamilton#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H
a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it
warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you
wc: 0.9k
You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.
You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare.
"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"
You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.
You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.
So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.
Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.
Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.
"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."
You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.
"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."
The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color.
You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.
The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.
"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."
He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek.
"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."
"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."
"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.
"I made you cry."
When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.
"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."
This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration.
Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.
"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.
"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.
You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult.
He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.
Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.
He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.
"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.
"I know."
"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."
You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."
As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.
That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#Spotify
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LET ME SAVOUR YOU (BEFORE I GO) — GOJO SATORU.
warning: this drabble contains angst and smut (18+ content). minors do not interact.
© chosai — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.
"satoru? what are you doing here in the middle of the night?" you question the ivory-haired male through your tired eyes, staring at the tall man standing in front of your apartment door; his facial expression is incomprehensible, and something about it makes you feel a little uneasy. you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. it's cold, you thought to yourself. without saying another word, you grab his hand and bring him inside.
"y/n," gojo says your name, his voice low and quiet. before you can utter a reply, his large hands snake around your waist and pull you close to his chest; his face nuzzling into your neck. gently, your fingers threaded through his white locks.
"is there something wrong, my love?" you ask him, and he shakes his head softly.
gojo's voice is muffled against your skin, "i just want to be close to you, that's all."
you attempt to pull yourself away from him, but his grip on you merely tightens. you trace your fingers over his cheek; worry laced within your gaze. "toru, you're not acting like yourself. i know you wanting to be close to me isn't the only reason you're here right now. let's talk about it, love."
leading your lover to the couch, you plop down onto the soft seat and encourage gojo to the same.
"jujustu society's in havoc right now," gojo begins, and you can already tell he's trying his best to stay vague, but you don't probe any further. "i also have to leave for a mission tomorrow morning. it's stressful, and i've just been seeking for your comfort these days. i'm also sorry for visiting so late at night. i miss you so much."
it is odd, for as long as you knew him – gojo satoru would be confident, acting as if any of the missions he embarks on is a mere chore. but here he is, in front of your door and disheveled; the only thing behind his cerulean eyes is that of woe.
"satoru..." you mumble his name softly, massaging your fingers into his scalp and he leans in closer to you to savour the sensation. a soft gasp falls from your lips when he suddenly peppers kisses along the soft skin. your arms travel from his head to his broad shoulders, holding onto him tightly. a soft moan leaves your lips when he decides to bite and suckle on the area that connected your neck and collarbone, and you dig your nails into his skin.
"satoru," you murmur his name softly, trying to get his attention but the man continues to savour you whole. eventually you begin to lose balance, your back falling into the soft mattress of your couch as he climbs over you; his lips remaining latched on the soft skin of your neck. "baby," you say softly, "what's gotten into you?"
"just wanna love you as much as i can," gojo says, though his voice is muffled as he continues to press kisses down your neck; his large hands traveling up your shirt – the coolness of his skin sends shivers down your spine along with shocks of arousal. "will you let me?"
you nod your head and immediately, you latch your lips onto his. your arms traveling to the back of his neck as you yearn to get closer to him. he hoists you up in his arms while your teeth clashed and tongues intertwined; his large hands cupping your ass, as he carries you to your bedroom. with gentle hands, he brings you lower until your head meets the soft plush of your mattress.
glancing up at the male, you relish in the sight of how handsome he looks underneath the moonlight; his cerulean eyes shining brightly against the luminescence from the night sky. there it is again, that incomprehensible look on his face; his eyes appear to pained, and his lips are pressed into a tight line. just as you're about to ask him if he is feeling okay, he cuts you off and wraps his arms around yours in a warm embrace.
"i love you so much, y/n." he says, his voice soft and quiet. "you're the best thing that happened in my life. i love you so much. please don't ever stop loving me. please."
you reassure him with your soft touches and kisses. "i love you more than you ever know, 'toru. never forget that."
lifting his chin with your finger, you bring him in for another kiss and this time, gojo returns the kiss with plenty more fervor; pinning your body down with his weight as his hands travel towards the end of your shirt, tugging onto the thin fabric as he swiftly removes it from you. the room that once felt cold now feels humid due to the growing arousal that you have shared towards one another.
gojo's left hand quickly travels to the soft mound, twisting the erect bud softly between his fingers while his lips shares his love on the other bud. you moan his name softly, arching your back as an attempt to get closer to him.
"you're so beautiful, my love." your lover says through raspy breaths, his voice low and hoarse as he continues his ministrations on your breasts. his right hand, now, is trailing lower and lower; his fingers snaking below the hem of your shorts, pulling softly against the bands of your underwear and you mewl his name. he's getting you even more desperate, and your aching need for him worsens as the seconds pass.
however, it is just the beginning.
"do you plan on teasing me, 'toru?" you question gojo, your lips forming a small pout and he gives you a gentle kiss.
"it's not teasing if i'm appreciating every single part of you. gotta ingrain every single part of you in my mind, right?"
you blush profusely at his words, and you avert your gaze from his loving ones.
"do whatever you wish," you say, stretching your arms out to reach him. "love every part of me, toru."
and so he does; he effortlessly slides your shorts along with your underwear and he digs a finger into your soaking pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp and moan of his name.
"you're already soaking wet," gojo hums, "and you're squeezing so tightly around my one finger. you’re so beautiful, y/n.”
“a-ah fuck! toru!” you moan, rocking your hips against his hand as he curls his finger inside. you can hear his breath hitch at the wet sounds of your heat enveloping around his finger, and then he adds a second finger.
eventually he pauses his movements, and before you get the chance to question him – you pause, flustered, with an anticipating gaze as he shifts his position; his head trailing down your stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses until he reaches your arousal. his warm breath hovers over the spot you needed him soft.
"agh– fuck, you're dripping." he breathes out, a low groan escaping from his voice before he dives into to your cunt and a sharp cry of his name escapes from your lips; your fingers tangled into his ivory locks as works his mouth into you, his lips suctioning your sensitive bud as he makes little yet rapid flicks of his tongue. tonight, he wants to savour every single thing of you.
breathy pants fall past your lips, your mind's fogged from the immense pleasure your lover is giving you. the way gojo's mouth makes love with your pussy effortlessly makes your mind go blank; his movements increase in fervour, the soft hums leaving his lips sends a wave of vibrations straight to your sensitive clit. you squeeze his head between your thighs, rocking your hips softly against his face – you're far too dazed in ecstasy and rather than fighting against it, gojo relishes every single reaction you make as he leaves you trembling with his mouth.
pale blue eyes gaze up towards you, clouded in lust as he takes in every single expression you're making with each lick, thrust and suckle of his tongue and lips. gojo can't stand the idea of another man possibly doing the same exact things he's doing to you, his heart aches just thinking about it. he glances back up at you once more; the sight of your flushed face with your needy eyes staring into his, egging him to help you reach your release with your soft yet desperate moans.
you're all his, and his only.
gojo locks his arms around your trembling thighs, moving his head side to side as he frantically makes out with your sopping heat.
you pant his name, though this time your voice goes up an octave. "mmm– ah! fuck 'toru i'm so close please don't stop, please don't stop!"
his grip on you tightens and his movements have gotten a lot more heated and desperate; a mixture of both his drool and your wetness dripping down his chin as he leads you to your orgasm. you latch onto his hair, a loud cry leaving your lips as you thrust your hips into his face – your legs twitching against his face.
gojo makes sure to keep a picture of this very moment locked in the depths of his mind. he wants to keep cherishing you, forever and ever. he leans up towards you to press a soft kiss against the temple of your forehead, and then he places another kiss on your lips. immediately, you reciprocated the kiss with passion and fervour; your arms snaking around his neck as you pull him on top of you.
"i love you so much, 'toru." you say in between kisses and heavy breaths.
ever since birth, he's been destined as the strongest. of course that ideology stuck with him throughout his childhood, adolescence and even until the present. being a sorcerer meant that he will have to make plenty of sacrifices, as long it will result in the world remaining in balance. however, out of the many treasured things he has to leave behind,
he doesn't have it in him to leave you.
"i love you more," gojo says, leaning his forehead to yours.
he's glad that you can barely make out his expressions underneath the dimly lit midnight sky. he tries to blink away any potential tears that threaten to poke at his eyes.
"y/n," gojo says, his voice soft. "promise me that no matter what, you'll live happily."
you cup his face in your hands, the pretty smile he loved so much is plastered across your face. "of course i will, 'toru. because i have you."
he leans into your touch and kisses your hand as he tries, desperately, to ignore the bittersweet feeling building up in his chest. he leans in again for another kiss, his hands wandering around your body as you submit once more into his warm touches.
he still has the whole night to savour you. even if it is the last time he ever will, he’ll make sure that every moment counts.
#ੈ✩‧˚sora’s creations#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo drabbles#gojo satoru angst#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader
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Also, this just sprung to mind with the anon asking about impact play but
What if Nanami using the broad side of his blade like a paddle?
tw: impact play, Curse User!Nanami AU
The secrecy was slowly killing you. Frissons of charged particles seeming to twist and writhe in the air above and around your body and his. The dance was not a new one, more like a practiced two step that felt more natural each time you indulged, and even though those times were few and far between, they still had the same impact like the very first time.
Kento smoothed his hand across your back, fixing your hair and watching your eyes grow hazy and lust-blown. Your upper torso melded against rich cotton sheets, the thread count far higher than you ever could have afforded in your previous life, and your lower half was draped over Kento’s legs. Naked and trembling, you wished he would get on with it, but knew that the building anticipation and tension was half of the fun. You’d endure his caresses and soft pets as long as he wished for you to do so, and no argument would change that.
“Are you ready, little dove? Remember, I said I’d like to try something different,” he emphasised whilst massaging the meat of your backside. You almost missed those last words, lost in the bliss of being kneaded and spread apart. His fingertips deliberately grazed your folds, teasing and taunting you, goading your heart rate to increase until it felt like the damn thing might burst out of your body.
A short, sharp tap to the back of your thigh was all the incentive you needed to pay proper attention. You winced at the stinging pain as it dissipated into an ache that would be the least of your worries when this was over.
“Uh-huh, ready. Ken… I’ll be fine.”
His head turned away, hiding the smirk that subtly curved his mouth. Throwing a leg over yours, you failed to notice when he grabbed for something near his feet. Your eyes were already shut, attempting to calm your breathing and stop yourself from clenching so damn hard in want.
You didn’t see the familiar weapon. The handle encased in his broad palm, fingers tight in place to control it with practiced ease. White fabric marked with black spots covered the metal of the knife and whilst most would think that would dull its potency… they would be wrong, not when it was in Kento’s hand.
He brought it down in one measured swoop, enough that you cried out at the impact but restrained enough that it wasn’t with his full force behind it. Your head whipped around, pushing up onto your arms to see what had caused the first ache of your arse, and you gasped when you realised he had landed the flat side of the blade against you. You throbbed, and not just from the smack.
Kento’s hazel eyes narrowed then widened, following your every inhale and twitch to assess your overall state. You fucking liked it… he knew it. Dirty girl.
“Lie back down or I will hold you down,” he threatened quietly. “Take your medicine, dirty girl. You know better than anyone that I can make this really hurt if I want to.”
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Now that I'm unemployed...
Aight, seeing as I'm unemployed... I'm gonna be streaming Tuesday (tomorrow!), Wednesday AND Thursday until I either get a new job... ~orrrrr~ until I get associate. :P So, if you're bored, hey, consider hanging out with your (not so local) autistic, ADHD guy, starting at 1-2PM, eh? :P I'm actually VERY close to having enough follows for associate, so it'd even help me out there.
https://www.twitch.tv/zetaneubourn
ALSO, if you want to vote on something for me to play or do, I do polls often on the forum! That's over here: https://exstellarverse.proboards.com/thread/25/next-game-stream-poll-suggestions
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sfw
Just thinking about Ghost and a crafty s/o.
Like his masks are so obviously made by him and not mass manufactured by some Halloween store. What if he is on leave or at a craft store near base? Staring at a variety of different thread and needles and fabric…... it’s just so much for his little brain. Doesn’t know what’s the best or durable for his type of work. Has done it before, just not well enough to last long or well in the field. Tired of getting poked at by Soap for the little shitty sewing kit he keeps with him.
Lucky for him, you’re around the corner. Bubbly little thing dressed completely opposite of him, all rainbows and sparkly shit (anything with color is to this man. smh). You’re eyeing some multicolored embroidery floss for your latest cross stitch and happen to glance over at Ghost, with his personalized mask and black ensemble. Looming over you as you skitter around him like a lost kitten.
You peer at the variety of options with familiarity, moving to grab your chosen colors with grace. Ghost just watches as you peer out of the corner of your eye to see whether he’ll move to get his own. He doesn’t.
When you’re done, he hasn’t moved. You have what you need, but you’re unnerved by a massive man who has just stared at you. Quickly, you mutter something like “do you need some help?”
Ghost just stares, as you fidget and look anywhere but him. He thinks it’s endearing.
You move away from him just as he gives a little huff as confirmation, and motions with his hand to the display. You glance up at him.
“what color do you want?” begins a stilted conversation on recommendations for sewing or embroidery or whatever else Ghost’s little heart desires. By the end of it, he has two packs of sewing and embroidery needles (if only he actually knew the difference) and a good variety of different types of black thread.
He’s followed you to the register as you dump all your stuff out and listens to you ramble about a new cross stitch. He sets his stuff beside yours and grabs your wrist as you go to pay for your things, sliding the cash across the counter to pay for your things.
Ghost looks over you contemplatively. Please, doll, you’ve given him enough interaction to play with for a few months. Let him do this for you. Of course, he only stares at you until you realize how futile this battle is.
Considerate little bird you are, thanking him as he carries your separate bags outside. A little hum of consideration as he follows you, tsking when you reach for your stuff. Don’t you understand he’s a feral dog coming home for the first time?
Follows you to your door, listening to your idle chirps and nodding in confirmation or denial to your questions to him. Asks for his name when he gets you home. An odd crawl up his spine and a softly spoken “Simon” are his way of vows. Gets your number for future endeavors in the craft aisle before creeping back outside.
Sits on his bed later with the little needle and thread, mending a mask. Yeah. He’s keeping you.
#ghost headcanons#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#your honor i love him#simon riley#sfw headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#call of duty modern warfare 2
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Sooo...
Sucking off 80s! james while wearing a plumping gloss (those that burn) and he goes feral and then fucks you. Hard.
🖤🖤🖤
THIS IS SOOOO 87’ JAMES OMFG THIS IS SO GOOD
James was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me intently as I applied my lip plumping gloss.
His eyes were dark with lust, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
The gloss tingled as it spread over my lips, a sensation that was rather familiar. I glanced up at him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“You sure about this?” I asked, my voice teasing. “It’s going to sting.”
He nodded, his smirk widening into a full grin. “I’m sure. I want to feel it.”
I knelt between his legs, my hands resting on his thighs as I slowly leaned forward.
His cock was already hard, standing proudly against his stomach.
I could see the faint twitch of his muscles, the anticipation in his eyes making me shiver with excitement.
I started with a gentle kiss on the tip of him, letting the tingling gloss transfer to his sensitive skin.
He inhaled sharply, his hands gripping the sheets.
I slowly wrapped my lips around him, the sting of the gloss intensifying as I took him deeper into my mouth.
James winced, but there was no mistaking the pleasure in his eyes. “Fuck, that feels… incredible,” he groaned, his voice strained.
I began to move, sucking him slowly at first, letting him adjust to the sensation.
The sting was sharp and intense, but it only seemed to heighten his arousal.
I could feel him throbbing against my tongue, the salty taste of precum mingling with the minty tang of the gloss.
“God, baby, your mouth… is amazing,” he panted, his fingers threading through my hair. “Keep going.”
I increased my pace, bobbing my head up and down his length, my lips and tongue working in perfect harmony.
The sting of the gloss was making his skin red and slightly swollen, and I could feel every vein, every pulse of blood, as I pleasured him.
He was moaning now, low and guttural, his hips thrusting up to meet my mouth.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” he warned, his voice ragged. “I can’t hold it much longer.”
I looked up at him, my eyes locked onto his as I took him as deep as I could.
His cock hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge.
With a final, shuddering moan, he came, his hot cum filling my mouth and spilling down my throat.
I swallowed eagerly, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste, letting it coat my tongue.
“Fuck, that was perfect baby,” he panted, his chest heaving as he came down from his orgasm.
But he wasn’t done yet. With a determined look in his eyes, he pushed me onto the bed, his hands rough and insistent.
“Now it’s your turn,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”
I barely had time to catch my breath before he was on top of me, his body pressing me into the mattress.
His hands were everywhere, pinning my wrists above my head, tearing at my clothes until I was naked beneath him.
His cock, still hard and glistening with my saliva, pressed against my entrance.
He didn’t wait, didn’t give me a chance to adjust.
With one powerful thrust, he was inside me, stretching me open, filling me completely. I cried out, the pleasure mingling with a sweet, sharp pain.
“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips slamming against mine. “So fucking perfect.”
He moved relentlessly, his pace brutal and unapologetic.
Each thrust drove him deeper, his cock hitting spots inside me that made me see stars. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pounded into me.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough and possessive. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”
“Yes, James,” I moaned, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m yours.”
He leaned down, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. His hand slid between us, finding my clit and rubbing it in quick, rough circles.
“Cum for me,” he commanded, his voice dark and demanding. “I want to feel you cum around my cock like a good girl.”
His words pushed me over the edge, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
I screamed his name, my nails digging into his spilled as I came, my walls squeezing around him.
James didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, kept pounding into me with a desperate, animalistic need.
I could feel him getting closer, his movements becoming erratic, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice tight with need. “I’m gonna fill you up.”
With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his cock twitching as he came.
I could feel the hot rush of his cum, filling me, overflowing, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.
He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting, our bodies slick with sweat. He stayed inside me, his cock still hard, still twitching.
We lay there, tangled together, our hearts pounding in unison.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice soft and tender now. “My fuckin’ dick hurts now,” he chuckled tiredly. “Told you.”
#reqs open#request#metallica#fanfic#smut#mustainegf#fanfiction#smutshot#james hetfield x you#james hetfield x oc#james hetfield fluff#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield imagines#james hetfield fic#james hetfield fanfiction#james hetfield#metallica fluff#metallica x reader#metallica smut#metallica imagines#metallica fanfiction#oneshot
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bruised part thirteen -> lonley
m.list
♪ now playing: simulation swarm by big thief ♪
Everything feels like shit.
Her arm fucking hurts. Her head fucking hurts. There's this solid block of led settled in the bottom of her gut and an aching in her chest. The abundance of 'get-well-soon' flowers crowded into every inch of free space makes her eyes water and nose run.
It sucks. It all fucking sucks.
She's lying flat on her back on top of her unmade bed, one arm wrapped up tightly in a sling, the other holding her phone above her face, scrolling through her feed, eyes straining to read every single thought strangers on the Internet have about her.
It's sort of strange, in a way, to see herself dissected and discussed in long threads and discourses and forums. She's always been a quasi-public figure, her face on grainy screens and niche corners of the Internet. But her recent virality due to the brutality of her injury and sharp bluntness with the press is something new.
And that sucks too.
Her instinct is to take a screenshot and send it to Iwaizumi. This is an instinct she has to bite back.
She's torn up over him. In a way that’s worse than usual. She wants to yell at him more. She wants to make him feel bad for the way that he just abandoned her out of nowhere with no proper sort of explanation. She wants to shake him until he tells her what changed and why he can't even talk to her anymore. Why he decided she wasn’t good enough for him anymore. She wants to rage and spit and bear her teeth.
She also wants to apologize. To tell him that she doesn't want to fight with him and that if he wants things to change than things can change and it doesn't bother her (even thought the thought of it makes the corner of her eyes prick). She wants to appease and plead and do what it takes to have her friend back, in whatever capacity he can manage.
Instead, she does neither.
It’s lonely.
Her free arm falls to the side, flopping against her bed. She lets her phone slip out of her hand. It's lonely. The people behind her phone screen pick and prod at her like she's a thought experiment and not a person. Her friends coo at her pitifully and retreat when they realize they don't know how to talk to her anymore. Iwaizumi acts in ways she doesn't understand, and makes her feel like he's someone she doesn't even know.
It's lonely. She blinks up at her ceiling. The sentiment echoes. With the Olympics out of the way, it's all she can think about. With her goals disintegrated and the one true love of her life ripped from her grasp for the foreseeable future, it's all she can think about.
It's lonely.
fun facts!
im back early <3 even tho this chapter is extremely short but i just needed to get back into it okay im just dipping my toes in the pool water that is bruised before i jump in
yn's manager wanted to hold a press conference to show that she was doing well post injury and would be ready to come back asap
it backfired
kyotani has never been prouder of yn that when she told the reporter that asked abt her body to fuck off
yn has not been talking to her friends a lot, has mostly just been hiding out in her room
she's mostly just talking to bokuto and kyotani. they talk to her like normal and it makes her feel comforted
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @hikikaimar @needtoloveoutloud @rinheartshyunlix @makkir0ll @cr4yolaas @k8nicole @cannibalsrider @bookworm-center @causenessus @frootloopscos @ekeio @michivrse @phoenix-eclipses @hermaeusmorax @milkwithspiceyicecubes @anonnreader777 @mehreya @kmwife @rrosiitas @riousluvs @zhonglism @ryeyeyer @faesix @milesmoralesluvs @bae-ashlynn @um-no-ok @kozuskitten @ncthourss @ms-downhill @bellamsby @karasyuu
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq x you#hq#haikyuu smau#haikyuu texts#iwaizumi hajime fanfiction#iwaizumi angst#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi fanfiction#iwaizumi fic#iwaizumi x you#iwaizumi fluff#hq iwaizumi#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime#iwazumi hajime#iwaizumi hajime x yn#iwaizumi hajime x reader smau#iwaizumi hajime x you
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A Duckling and a Beast
⚘ Just thinking about Tamlin being a dad and calling his baby 'Duckling'
⚘ Warnings: super fluffy, little bit of angst. Minimal editing.
⚘ Word Count: 655
Worry and doubt and guilt had pulled Tamlin from his sleep, ravaging his nightmares and forcing him awake. He turned over in the bed, comforted by the outline of his sleeping mate, painted silver by the full moon. But there was still a restless piece of his spirit, adrift in a churning sea of memory and pain. So he slipped from the bed as quietly as he could to do the only thing that would truly quiet his mind.
He found his baby already awake, staring up at him adoringly with those grey-green eyes. Tamlin could not help his smile as he scooped her up, so tiny in his hands, and held her to his chest. She snuggled in immediately, chubby, pink cheeks against his bare chest. He ran a hand over her soft, golden curls that reminded him so much of a downy duckling. Everything in his mind quieted.
As they swayed in the moonlight, he could feel the infinite potential radiating from her, soothing every fear. The absolute assurance that she would become someone extraordinary dissolved all of his feelings of inadequacy. He would do anything to see it happen. If his mind stumbled, his body would know the path, tethered to this little soul in a way that he could not explain.
After all, if the mating bond was a bridge between his soul and Briar's, how might he be connected to this tiny being that was half him and half her?
His salvation. Those little hands that he was so sure would grow and accomplish such amazing things. She would do everything he never could, have everything he had always wanted, and he knew it because he was determined to make her happiness his purpose. He was no longer a failure. Because she was his gift to the world, and she had righted all his wrongs just by taking her first breath. With only her beautiful existence, she had fixed it all.
Amazing, how it all settled. How the world quieted and the beast in the den of his mind ceased roaring. It had been such a long time since there was such peace. Love had chased away the chaos. Briar had forged the path, had crafted the gates to this beautiful land of calm and bliss. He would make sure they wanted for nothing, his little family. He would fight anything, death itself, to ensure their contentment. He would conquer hell and claw his way out of the earth if he needed to.
The little duckling drifted back to sleep in his arms and his gaze turned toward the window. He thought of showing her every marvel of the court she'd inherit. Golden sunshine on her face, a warm breeze chasing them through the forest. He'd hold her hands under a bubbling brook and let her walk barefoot through velvety soft moss. When she grew older, he'd walk her to every corner of the court, along each border until she had them memorized. The future had not held such promise in so long.
The duckling began to fidget and fuss, to Tamlin set his sleeping darling down into her bassinet. Softly, he picked up his fiddle and began to play. He made the notes gentle and smooth and easy for her ears. Humming the words to the ancient song, he watched the wrinkles between her tiny brows melt away. Her small whimpers and cries turned into steady breaths as she slept, lured into a place of lovely dreams. Such trust she had in him already. He tucked it away into his heart, a thing to be cherished, a thing to fortify him should he ever falter. Her guardian. Her protector. The oath was written on his bones, older than the lullaby he coaxed from his instrument. Like all of the love in his chest was a thread in the tapestry of time, something truly immortal. His gift to the world.
#tamlin#tamlin oneshot#tamlin fic#tamlin fanfic#tamlin fanficton#dad tamlin#dad!tamlin#tamlin acotar#acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#spring court#the spring court#spring court fanfic#spring court fic#spring court fanfiction#tamlin's daughter#acotar au#acotar headcannons#acotar headcanons#acotar next gen
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Found {OP81}
500 Follower Special!!!
Navigation
Summary: Sometimes you think you want to disappear but all you want is to be found.
Taglist
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Y/N's POV
The pit lane bustled with activity as the sun rose over the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, casting long shadows over the paddock. Among the chaos of mechanics preparing cars and engineers analyzing data, I found solace in the quiet corner of the McLaren garage. My name is Y/N, and I'm a Formula 1 driver for Red Bull Racing. But today, as I prepared for another grueling day of testing, I couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that gnawed at my insides.
Oscar Piastri, my best friend and fellow driver at McLaren, stood by my side, his unwavering support a beacon of light in the darkness of my doubts. We had grown up together, chasing our dreams of racing glory on the dusty karting tracks of our youth in the small town of Bathurst, Australia. From an early age, we forged an unbreakable bond, our friendship fueled by a shared passion for speed and a relentless drive to succeed.
Now, as we stood on the precipice of our F1 careers, I felt the weight of expectations bearing down on me like a leaden sky. The scrutiny of the media, the pressure from sponsors, and the unrelenting demands of the sport threatened to consume me, leaving me feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
"Hey, Y/N," Oscar's voice broke through my thoughts, his blue eyes filled with concern. "You okay?"
I forced a smile, nodding weakly. "Yeah, just pre-race jitters, you know how it is."
But Oscar saw through my facade, his gaze piercing through the layers of pretense I had carefully constructed. He knew me better than anyone, and I couldn't hide the truth from him any longer. We had been through too much together, our lives intertwined like the threads of a tapestry, woven with memories of triumph and heartbreak, laughter and tears.
"You don't have to pretend with me, Y/N," he said softly, his hand resting on my shoulder. "I know this isn't easy for you, but you're stronger than you think. Remember when we were kids, and we'd race our karts until the sun went down? You never gave up, no matter how many times you crashed or spun out."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over as memories of our childhood flooded my mind. "It's just… I feel like I'm drowning, Oscar. The pressure, the scrutiny… Sometimes I wish I could just disappear and go back to those simpler times."
But before I could stop myself, the dam broke, and the words poured out in a torrent of emotion. "I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly under the microscope, like I have to prove myself every time I step onto the track. And with Max being the star driver, it's like I'm always living in his shadow."
Oscar wrapped me in a comforting embrace, his presence a soothing balm to my wounded soul. "You're not alone, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with conviction. "I'm here for you, no matter what. And together, we'll get through this, just like we always have."
As the day wore on and the sun climbed higher in the sky, I found the strength to face my fears head-on. With Oscar by my side, offering words of encouragement and sharing stories of our childhood adventures, I tackled each lap with renewed determination, pushing myself to the limit and beyond. And with every corner conquered, I felt a glimmer of hope ignite within me, a beacon of light guiding me through the darkness.
During the midday break, we retreated to the motorhome, sharing a simple meal and reminiscing about the dreams we had nurtured as kids. Oscar regaled me with tales of our early karting days, when we would spend hours tinkering with our machines, fine-tuning every component in pursuit of the perfect setup.
"Remember that time when we accidentally swapped the spark plugs, and your kart wouldn't start?" he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "You were so frustrated, but we eventually figured it out, and you went on to win that race."
I couldn't help but laugh at the memory, the weight on my shoulders momentarily lifted by the warmth of our shared history.
But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the track fell silent once more, the weight of my insecurities returned, threatening to engulf me once more. It was in those moments of doubt that I found myself reaching out to Oscar, the only one who truly understood the turmoil raging within me.
"Hey, Y/N," Oscar's voice crackled over the radio, his words a lifeline in the darkness. "You did great out there today. I'm proud of you."
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, warmth flooding my chest at his words. "Thanks, Oscar," I replied, my voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you."
And as I sat alone in the quiet confines of my trailer, surrounded by the echoes of the day's trials and triumphs, I realized that sometimes, all you need is someone to remind you that you're not alone. That even in the darkest of times, there's always a glimmer of light to guide you home.
In the weeks and months that followed, Oscar remained a constant source of strength and support, his unwavering belief in me fueling my determination to succeed. We celebrated each other's victories, commiserated over setbacks, and pushed each other to new heights, our rivalry on the track tempered by a bond that transcended the sport itself.
Through the highs and lows, the triumphs and heartbreaks, we clung to the memories of our childhood dreams, reminding ourselves of the journey that had brought us to this point. And as we raced towards the horizon, our hearts beating as one, I knew that no matter where life took us, we would always find our way back to each other, two souls bound by a love for racing and a friendship that defied the boundaries of time and space.
As the season drew to a close, we found ourselves standing on the podium, our names etched in the annals of motorsport history. But in that moment, the trophies and accolades paled in comparison to the pride and joy I saw reflected in Oscar's eyes. For in the end, it was our friendship, forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the relentless pursuit of our dreams, that mattered most. And as we raised our champagne glasses in a toast to our shared triumph, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as we always had, our racing hearts beating in perfect harmony.
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OP81 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @dhanihamidi, @leclercdior, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1
F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery
#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fic#op81 fluff#op81 smut#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 x black reader#oscar piastri instagram au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x black reader#x black fem reader#x black!fem!reader#x black!reader#x reader#x black reader#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#mclaren formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#mclaren#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you
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Before and After: Birthdays
Lucien x Archeron!Reader
Summary: part of the series of drabbles from before and after you went into the cauldron. These can be read in any order because they aren't chronological. This one is fluff!!
Warnings: mentions of/allusions to sex, but no actual smut
Word Count: 798 (short and sweet)
The male between your legs pauses, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, glancing up at your face. "Are you really not going to tell me when your birthday is?" You lean up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow as you look down at him.
"Does it really matter? The day has never really been that special." Lucien frowns, sitting up and pulling you into his arms. You can practically hear him thinking as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. He holds you with care, as if you're made out of glass. And you suppose compared to him, you are, your human body leaving you far more vulnerable than you'd like. He seems to have found the words he was looking for, his voice drawing you out of your own thoughts.
"It matters to me. Not because the day should be special, but because you are."
You shake your head. "No I'm not."
He grabs your chin gently, turning your head so you look him in the eyes. "Yes, you are. You stood up to a High Lord and insisted on coming over the wall with your sister. You went under the mountain with her. If I hadn't stopped you, you would have tried to stab Amarantha and died with her. You absolutely are special. And beyond that." He pauses a moment, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "You're special to me. And that's truly what I care about." You smile at that.
"You're special to me too."
"Does that mean you'll tell me when your birthday is?"
"Nope!"
He groans, falling back onto the bed, pulling you with him, holding you to his chest.
"Fine. But that means you're getting double the presents next year."
You laugh. "You're assuming you'll have figured it out by then."
He grins, pressing kisses to your neck. "Of course I will. Or perhaps I'll just pick a day and shower you with gifts. And then of course there's the birthday sex..." You laugh again, and the sound is like music to his ears. He would do anything to hear it again and again, as often as he could, for as much time as he may be blessed to spend with you.
You stir, the sun peeking in through the windows waking you. Lucien grins, pressing kisses to your face, waking you further. You swat at him gently, grumbling. “Five more minutes.”
He laughs, but concedes, pulling you into his arms and letting you have your rest. You deserve it, after all you’ve been through this past year.
When you’re finally ready to be awake, you kiss his shoulder before sitting to look at him. He looks back at you with a smile, so much love in his eyes you could melt. He kisses you, threading his fingers into your hair. He pulls back, that same love struck expression still on his face.
“So, today is your birthday.”
“So it is,” you sigh.
“I believe I promised you double presents.”
“So you did. And birthday sex.” He laughs, untangling himself from you and retrieving a stack of presents from their hiding place, depositing them on the foot of the bed.
“I hope all of that means you didn’t also get me a Solstice present.”
“Of course I did.”
“How? I mean… Why? No… When?” You furrow your brow in frustration, giving up on finding the right question as he laughs.
“How? Well, Velaris has a wide variety of lovely shops. When? You’ve been so busy training your healing powers with Madja, it was quite easy to find the time, actually. And as far as why, you deserve it. You deserve every single one of these presents and then some.” He crosses over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing kisses to your cheeks.
“Just wait until our mating ceremony. I’ll shower you with gifts then too.” He kisses your neck. “And then we’ll have our anniversary… I’ll always find a reason.” You smile, leaning into his embrace.
“I suppose I better start opening these if we’re going to make it to the Solstice celebration on time.” He reaches for the first package, keeping you in his arms. You open a wide variety of gifts. New journals and pens, a tea you had seen and mentioned liking, jewelry, anything he had seen and thought of you. You press a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back and cupping his cheek. Lucien leans into the touch, smiling.
“Thank you. For making me feel as special as you tell me I am.”
“Of course, Love. Anything for you.”
You smile, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “Now, about that birthday sex…” He laughs, lowering you to the pillows.
“Like I said… Anything for you, Love.”
A/N: Ah, finally posting something that's not angst! Requests are open, so feel free to send one in, or just ask a question :)
divider is by @tsunami-of-tears
#acotar fic#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar imagine#maasverse#lucien x reader#lucien x you#lucien vanserra x reader#lucien vanserra x you#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x you#fanfiction#imagine
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Has anyone ever heard of “Battle for Dream Island” (1990) before? Really obscure NES game, doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page (or hell, even a mention in one).
From what little I can find about it on the internet, Battle for Dream Island was an NES game released on January 1st, 1990, apparently made entirely by a pair of independent American developers. Never made all that many sales, but eventually it garnered a rather niche following on an obscure gaming forum, though it had long since dissipated. Unfortunately, seemingly nothing from the forum threads was archived, so all I have to go on are a few vague threads titles from a navigation page.
I, rather cliched like, bought this BfDI cartridge from a sleazy old guy at a flea market (along with Puzznic and Wario’s Woods for a bargain deal). I dumped the ROM and booted it up on an emulator to take some screencaps.
Upon pressing start, you are prompted to “Choose Contestant,” and have a choice between any of 20 playable characters (who are all everyday objects, for some reason). Each contestant has their own stats, and while you can feel the difference while playing, the overall impact of character choice is pretty negligible. (Also some of these guys don’t even have arms?? Weird design choice but okay.)
Two screencaps of the character select screen. I went with Pin for my first playthrough cause idk she seemed kinda cute. I’m almost sure the stats are “Strength,” “Speed,” “Jump,” and “Skill.”
(Continued under cut)
While touting itself as a game show, BfDI is essentially a glorified minigame collection. The gameplay loop is as follows: You and the 19 other contestants play a minigame (referred to as “challenges”) to earn points based on how well you do (though I’m fairly certain the computer contestants just get a random amount of points for each challenge). Most of the challenges are various platforming segments, though some others fall more into puzzle game territory.
Two of the challenges. The green “Win Tokens” can be collected for bonus points. LEFT: A horizontal platformer level. The grey wall in the middle of the screencap moves up and down. RIGHT: A challenge about climbing ladders while avoiding “acid spitballs.” The game pauses to scroll vertically a la Super Mario Bros. 2.
After each challenge, this speaker thing shows up (pretty sure he’s supposed to be like a game show host?) and tallies up everyone’s score. The contestant with the least score gets “eliminated” and removed from the game.
The results screen. Leafy did rather poor on the last challenge, so she’s out of the game.
The game continues like this until you lose (have the least amount of points) and get booted to the game over screen, or until you are the last one left, in which case you win Dream Island! (Though of course in reality you just get booted back to the title screen. No Dream Island for you.)
The victory screen, with the gates to Dream Island in sight. Feels more like the gates to hell given how Pin’s staring at me.
It’s a fairly easy game for NES standards (I won on my first try). Took me about 80 minutes on my first playthrough, though subsequent ones could take less than an hour as I knew what I was doing. The brevity and the fact it saves your high score gives BfDI a nice sense of replayability (though this is probably best done sporadically, as the challenges tend to get a bit samey after a couple of back-to-back playthroughs).
So yeah, just wanted to share this in case anybody else has heard of it. I’ll probably rip the sprites and upload them sometime later cause it doesn’t look like anybody’s done that yet.
#bfdi#bfdia#bfb#tpot#bfdi firey#bfdi pin#bfdi leafy#bfdi needle#bfdi teardrop#bfdi eraser#bfdi flower#bfdi pencil#bfdi rocky#bfdi announcer#BfDI1990
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