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zephyrchama · 1 month

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Living together in a big house with one (main) (shared) bathroom means that mornings can be tough.

When you first arrived at the House of Lamentation, it was hard to fit in. It was really hard to get into the bathroom in the mornings and fight six demons for use of the sink. If more than two others were in there at the same time, they practically formed a living wall that blocked you out, forcing you to wake up extremely early or risk being late for school.

That got better over time though. You gradually managed to fit into the house's morning routine.

---

Lucifer has his morning routine down to an exact science. Usually he's fully dressed and has his hair brushed before leaving the bedroom. He might be running on pure muscle memory though - one time you handed him a warm washcloth for his face and he just stared at it in confusion for several seconds with a furrowed brow. He has no problems getting it himself, but this break in routine gave him pause. It took Lucifer a moment to realize what it was and to thank you.

If you get the chance to eat breakfast together, Lucifer likes to ask about your day. "What do you have planned? Remember, we have that meeting at five. Did you prepare for the ancient hex exam?" He might slide a bit of his food onto your plate before he goes, a way of returning the pleasant energy boost you always provide for him.

---

Mammon can hustle. Which means that Mammon can get up early if it benefits him in some way. A part time job, an early bird discount, a chance to slip past Lucifer's defenses and borrow some cash.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Waking up takes some serious effort. Mammon will stumble into the bathroom to do his business first thing in the morning, yawning with his eyes half closed and tugging up whatever pants he just tossed on for modesty.

The tsundere part of his brain takes a few minutes to kick in if he's just woken up. If he spots you, Mammon will demand a good morning hug and wrap his arms around you, deaf to your cries of "Mammon! Go wash your hands before you touch me!"

---

Leviathan is always groaning in the morning. He's probably not aware of it. He's probably muttering complaints but is too tired to actually speak the words properly. His blankets are always a tangled mess, wrapped unevenly around his feet and contorted around his body, but Leviathan can easily Houdini his way out of them when it's time to get up. If there's no event or livestream to wake up early for, he'll sleep in for as long as he can before starting the day with a nice shower.

He finds warm running water to feel so pleasant and you can often find Leviathan spacing out next to the faucet. He'll greet you with a sleepy "ah, morning," and accidentally splash you in an attempt to wave his hand. The embarrassment and slight panic from getting you a towel to dry off with is usually enough to properly wake him up, and he sheepishly exits the bathroom and guards the door until you've finished changing into dry clothes.

---

Satan can hardly even put his shirt on properly when fully awake.

The man's a sleepy mess when he tries to get dressed in the morning. He'll stay up all night to finish a book he's invested in, then stumble out of his room "ready to go" when it's time for breakfast. His pants are unzipped and the button is coming undone. He's only got one sleeve on and it's on the wrong arm, or the buttons on his shirt are all misaligned and half have been skipped over.

He doesn't protest anymore when you tidy him up. Some mornings he'll doze off while you straighten his tie and fall forward into you, then try to play it off as a hug. Satan doesn't want to let go though, you feel so much warmer on a chilly morning.

---

Asmodeus is a rare morning riser. Too much sleep is bad for the skin, he claims. If he has trouble getting up, he'll either go soak in his private tub for energy or seek you out.

"You have to hear what happened last night," he'll say, strolling into your room while there's still ten minutes left on your alarm. He sits on the edge of your bed, and if you try falling back asleep he pulls you up into a sitting position. "Listen to this, you won't believe it!"

Asmodeus isn't afraid to get touchy if it means you'll wake up faster and he gets your attention. He'll sit you in his lap, or press you against his side, or run his hands down your face and squish your cheeks with a mischievous smile.

When the main bathroom is too crowded to use you're free to borrow his, with the caveat he gets to style you for the day and you might be late when he gets overzealous.

---

Beelzebub can also be found awake in the mornings. The quiet hours before everyone else wakes up are best for stretching, taking jogs, and grabbing a pre-breakfast appetizer. He'll get spooked if he hears footsteps approach the kitchen and slam the fridge door shut in a hurry, but all is well when he sees you enter the room instead of Lucifer.

Beelzebub is a big guy who takes up a lot of space. When you run into each other in the bathroom and are rushing to get ready, it's easy to bump into him. On days he's still pretty tired, he might not even notice you bonk your head against his arm. That's fine though - you don't want him to notice you until he's brushed his teeth. After all, Beelzebub's morning breath is a potent magical weapon.

If you need the bathroom sink while he occupies it, Beelzebub is kind enough to nudge you in front of him (once you've confirmed his mouth is minty fresh). You both get to use the mirror this way, and you can both see each other's smiling faces.

---

Belphegor is the king of oversleeping. The powers of you and his twin combined are hardly enough on some days, but mostly the responsibility of waking him falls to you. You quickly learned it's best to wake him from behind his head, if you can manage to maneuver your way into a suitable spot to do so. Anywhere his limbs can easily grab you will result in being pulled into bed. He's like a sleeping kraken.

You suspect that Belphegor wakes up easier than he lets on, but he feigns ignorance. He insists he was totally fast asleep when you struggled to physically drag him down the hallway towards the bathroom, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso with all your strength. And when he clung on to your waist and nuzzled his head into your stomach. And when Beel came to help free you from Belphegor's clutches, but he rolled you under him and muttered "mine now."

Definitely fast asleep, doesn't remember a single thing.

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cozage · 8 months

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Coza! congrats on 2K followers. I like your smuts and i don't know what. idea I want.CouldI request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy + ace + Zoro + sabo + taking care of you when your sick.

I am actually very sick today so this one was nice to think about :)

Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Ace, Zoro, Sabo CW: I didn’t proofread this forgive me for errors Total word count: 860

In Sickness and Health

Luffy

He is worried sick about you. He spends the whole morning just trying to get you to laugh.

He tells jokes, makes funny faces, and plays pranks on Zoro. Anything he can think of to get you smiling and laughing.

Sometimes he succeeds in getting you to laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit, so he eventually gives up on the laughing endeavor.

Instead, he climbs into bed with you and pulls you flush against his body. He holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ears to lull you to sleep.

He wipes the sweat off your brow and rubs your face with a cool rag when you get hot. Even when you're asleep, he still does it.

When it’s time to eat, he doesn’t ask for your food. It’s probably one of the first times in his life that he hopes there are no leftovers. He knows you need the food to get strong.

And when you finally get out of bed, he bounces with joy, excited to resume his normal routine with you again.

Ace

Ace doesn’t know what to do when he wakes up and you’re the warm one in the bed. So he runs to get Marco.

“They're fine,” Marco says. “It’s just a fever. It will pass.”

“Can’t you just heal them?!” Ace whispered, looking at you nervously.

“With little things like this it does more harm than good. Let their body fight it. If it’s still bad in 24 hours, come back to me.”

Ace is so worried he doesn’t eat. He doesn’t leave your side. He had tried to cuddle up to you, but you had kicked him away.

Now he sits on the floor beside the bed, his hand outstretched and intertwined with yours as you sleep.

He only wakes you to drink water and to eat. Even though it’s the last thing you want, he makes you consume something to keep your energy up.

After a few hours, he still hasn’t moved from his spot, and you finally allow him to rejoin you in bed. The heat is still miserable, but at least he’s a comfy pillow.

The next night your fever finally breaks. And though you’re still miserable, at least he knows you’re going to be okay.

Zoro

Zoro was surprised that you weren’t out on the deck by mid morning. You hadn’t had a particularly late night, so it strikes him as strange.

As he opens the door to your room, you groan and roll away from the light.

He barks out a laugh. “That hungover? I didn’t even see you drink!”

“Migraine,” you moan, pressing your hands to your temple as you speak.

“Oh.” Zoro's voice instantly drops several octaves. “What can I do?”

“Just come lay here with me.” You stretch out an arm to him, beckoning him into bed.

He has no option but to join you, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you and flexing against you. You feel safe in his arms, and slip into unconsciousness immediately.

When you finally wake up, the sharp stabbing has left, but Zoro still has you firmly in his arms.

“Are you hungry? Do you-“

“Shower,” you cut him off with your own words. “I’d really like a shower.”

So he leads you to the bath house and he gingerly washes your hair and your body as you keep your eyes closed, trying to minimize the effects of your migraine.

When you finish in the shower, he silently takes you back to your room and the two of you lay around for the rest of the day, quietly talking or sleeping or just enjoying each other's company.

Sabo

“Soup?” He whispered, cracking the door open just a tad as he held a bowl.

“How’d you know?” You groaned, throwing a pillow over your head.

He laughed, deciding not to tell you how it was almost noon. He knew you weren’t always an early riser, but you were only in bed at this time if you were sick.

“I called out, so we can-“

“Sabo!” You cried. “You shouldn’t have called out!”

“But you’re sick.” He held out a book. “I got you a new book and everything.”

You hummed in delight, taking the book from him and setting it down on the nightstand.

“Do you want to be alone, or can I join you?”

You really didn’t want another body in the bed with you while you were feeling so gross. But you also didn’t want to be alone.

“Can you just stay in the room?” You asked.

“Let me grab some work, I’ll be right back.”

He worked quietly at his desk in your room, only taking breaks to fetch you water or food or anything else you would ask for.

And you fell asleep to the quiet scratching of his pen, sleeping well in the fact that he would never leave you alone when you needed him.

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bunniesanddeer · 1 month

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Heat: Part Two

Part One

Pairing: Alastor x Reader (AFAB) Lamb/Sheep Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Smut, fingering, fluff, very gentle touches, heat, female anatomy

Word Count: 3,128

It’s barely dawn when he wakes. At first, Alastor isn’t sure what had woken him. Although he was often an early riser, he had figured the long night keeping watch over his soul-bonded would have made him sleep later than usual. He flicks his eyes around the room he had moved them to for a moment. It is after he has taken stock of the room, and the dim, red light filtering through the curtains, that he hears it. His little lamb is whimpering.

Alastor sits all the way up so he can look down at them. His first instinct, had, of course, been to make sure that they weren’t hurt. With the way their brows are scrunched tight, and the soft sounds leaving them, he still wasn’t sure.

“Ma bichette, you should wake.” He settles his hands on their shoulders, going to shake them, but their eyes pop open.

Their eyes, which are normally blue with black sclera, have become black voids. Alastor felt as if he was staring into empty space. It was oddly hypnotizing. As they move, incomprehensible noises escaping them, their scent drifts up to him. It is almost overpowering, and stronger than it had been in the last two days. His head feels heavy, and the itching beneath his skin returns.

“Oh, my dearest, I do believe it has begun.” He kicks back the blanket, to help them untangle their legs. His soul-bonded moves around the bed, their eyes scarcely leaving him for even a moment.

“Alastor,” They whisper. Oh, their voice! It was heavenly, and it only drew him in further. “Alastor, please.”

Their pleading, in their breathy whisper, sends heat down his abdomen. The fiery heat growing within him feels very much like how they had described their symptoms. Every bit of his body felt too confining. But oh! He mustn’t get distracted with his own feelings. His little lamb needed him.

“Come here, ma moitié,” he calls. He opens his arms, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. He watches as they hesitate, nose twitching as some instinct calls for them to do. With a tilt of their head, something in them decides he is safe, and they crawl to his lap. His arms immediately wrap around them, pressing them as close to his chest as he can get them. Their heat is the comfort of a roaring fireplace in winter, and it makes him shiver. He drags his nose into the wool atop their head, breathing in deeply. They smell so wonderful; there is something heady, but also something comforting and familiar.

“Mon trésor, can you understand me?” He rubs a claw against their soft cheek, trying to draw their attention. Their ears twitch, and their tail moves at the sound of his voice. “Dearest,” he tries again. “I need you to answer me, if you can. I want to make sure you still want me to help you.”

“Alastor, please. It hurts.” They wiggle back, trying to look him in the eyes. Their pupils are visible again, but only just; they are tiny pinpricks in the void of their eyes. “Please help me.”

Alastor closes his eyes at their request, and his smile loosens. Their request made him feel incredibly strange, as if some ball of energy was bouncing about in his body, begging to be freed. The heat their scent caused, still hadn’t abated. He opens his eyes again, and nods.

“Of course, mon cœur. Do you wish to remove any of this clothing? You are getting quite warm.” Alastor tugs at the thin tee they wear, and they nod. Without any help from him, they pull the shirt over their head, and their chest is revealed.

Alastor’s breath hitches. He had been expecting some sort of undergarment, but it is their bare flesh he sees. He was aware that their chest was rather small, compared to the bodies of other female demons, but it didn’t matter to him. His hands almost immediately cup their breasts, rubbing against their already pert nipples.

His little lamb gasps, their breath stopping for a moment. “Oh,” they start, their voice pitched higher than normal. “That feels nice.”

Alastor takes it as his cue to continue exploring everything they’ve laid bare for him. One hand continues to rub at their, so very soft, chest, and his other hand travels downwards. The skin of their belly is also very soft, a slight give beneath it.

“You are so very soft, little one,” he coos to them. He ducks his face into the junction of their neck, nuzzling against them. He squeezes one of their hips, and they shiver. “What would you like to do? I know it must be getting quite uncomfortable.”

His soul-bonded wiggles, making him pull back so they can move easier. Their eyes seem to scan his form for a moment, before settling on his legs.

“Can-” their voice cuts off, their already flushed face darkening further. “Can I ride your thigh?” They start shivering, as if their little body couldn’t handle the anticipation. “It’s probably the easiest, for now. I think, uh, that you can use your hands later, if you would like.”

Alastor lets his smile soften. They are so nervous, and it makes his chest ache. How sweet and wonderful they were. He nods, gesturing for them to find a comfortable position. Although the idea of them riding his leg, whatever that meant specifically, was new to him, he knew it must be helpful. They seemed so eager, and he wanted them to feel good.

Alastor realizes, as they prop themselves on one of his thighs, closer to his knee than his groin, what exactly they mean. He also notices that they are, in fact, only wearing underwear now. It is a thin, soft, red pair, cut high enough to see where their thighs and pelvis meet. His eyes are glued to the soft skin at the point where they meet. Something, deep inside of him, wants him to bite there, and he couldn’t tell where it came from.

His little lamb settle their hands in front of them, grasping at his thigh for dear life. He watches with fascination as they shift their hips forward. Their entire body seems to light up, breath stuttering.

“Oh,” they shakily exhale. “That’s- that’s good.” Their eyes flutter closed, and their claws scratch his thigh lightly. Alastor nearly falls forward with the shock of such a feeling. No one had ever touched him like that, without meaning harm.

He grasps their hips, as if to steady the both of them, and he leans forward just slightly.

“Come on, ma chérie, do what you must.” His voice drops, the static often accompanying it, gone. “Let me see you ‘ride’ me, dearest.”

His voice spurs them into action, and he watches, as if enchanted. The front of their underwear is darkening, and he can feel something damp soaking through his trousers. (He winces, realizing he had slept in his clothes. It was too late to worry about that, he needed to focus). Alastor lets his thumb sweep up their navel, the other hand cupping their face as they rock their body back and forth.

“Oh, little one, you are so good for me,” he murmurs. They moan, the sound sending his body ablaze. His skin tingles where he touches them, and his groin feels hot and tight. Oh, the things his little soul-bond did to him. Oh, how wondrous! “Yes, ma moitié. Give yourself pleasure, for me.”

“Alastor,” they mewl as their back bows backward. Their heaving breaths draw his attention back to their pert breasts. Unable to stop the strange desire, Alastor catches one of their nipples in his mouth, tongue immediately exploring the surface. They cry out, and their hands clutch at his shoulders. “Oh, please!”

Alastor feels their muscles tighten beneath his hands. He feels each shuddering breath they take, and the way they moan makes his ears twitch. He places one of his hands between their shoulder blades, pressing them closer to his mouth, and he put the other on their hip, guiding them in their rocking.

“Please what, dearest,” he asks. He lets their nipple free from his mouth, and replaces his head back against their neck. His tongue laps against their neck, prompting a groan from them. Their skin tasted of salt, and their unique taste, (one he had not experienced since they had made their deal). “Oh, you taste wonderful, my dear.”

“Alastor, please,” they beg, again. Their hips are still grinding down against his thigh, which is growing noticeably damp from the slick coating their underwear and the junction of their thighs. “Please.”

Alastor breathes in deeply, scratching his teeth along their throat. His hands tighten in his hold of them, and he grinds their hips down into his leg, harder. The ache in his chest growing too hard to ignore, and the heat in the pit of his abdomen, his lightly bites down on their shoulder. And then they��re keening, a high and breathy thing, that makes his ears limp. He bites down harder, licking at their skin roughly. Alastor can’t get enough of every little noise they make, and he wants more.

Alastor lets his voice dip to inhuman levels, and makes his made-for-radio accent drop, he growls,

“Ma Moitie.”

His little lamb gasps, and their hips stutter in their pace. They convulse strangely, all their muscles bunching up tight. He feels their muscles beneath their navel twitch sporadically, and their breath stop. Alastor thankfully has a good grip on them, because they go limp in his arms a moment later.

“Oh, mon cœur, look at you.” He pulls them into his arms so he can settle them back onto the bed. Their eyes are dazed, pupils visible again and blown wide. Alastor feels almost as if they are a little doll, so easily moved and adjusted. When they are finally settled back onto the bed, he lies beside them, searching their face.

“How do you feel, my dear?” He rubs their cheek gently, focusing entirely on their reaction. He can hear the light thumb of their tail against the mattress, (and it makes him thankful that his own is too small to make such a noise. Alastor could feel it twitching the entire time they sat upon his leg).

“Alastor,” they breathe. One of their hands pulls at his suit jacket. “That felt so good.” Their eyes flutter close, and he watches their whole body jerk. “Unfortunately, I don’t think once is enough.”

A grimace crosses their features. Alastor smiles wider, and he rubs their frown lines with his thumb. “Worry not, dear. I am up to the task.” He lets his voice fill with a confidence he does not feel, but he wants this. He wants to make them feel good again, and to end this ‘heat’ that had been forced on them. “You mentioned, that I could use my hands earlier.”

You can still feel your body twitching, the muscles of your pussy clenching around nothing, as you come down from your orgasm. It is while you are still processing the fact that you had ridden Alastor’s thigh like a saddle, that you feel that painful heat in your belly return. It makes your chest seize, and your head feel fuzzy. When you inform Alastor, he almost immediately mentions making use of his hands. Your brain nearly melts.

Although the two of you had been together for some time now, this was your first, even remotely, intimate experience. You had had a handful of kisses, but nothing more than that. He hadn’t even said anything remotely risqué to you! Now here he was, offering to touch you with his hands.

His hands… the thought sent delightful shivers down your spine. His hands were very large, and they were so warm right now. You wanted him to use them to explore every inch of you, to touch you until his every desire was met. Unfortunately, you couldn’t voice more than a, “Yes, please.”

You felt a tiny bit pathetic, at first, but the soft smile on his face stopped that. He almost looked like he actually wanted to. Not just for you, but for him too. The thought made your chest ache, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and tell him everything you felt about him. You could not, however; there were more pressing matters.

Alastor sits up, and presses his back against the backboard of the bed. He curls a claw at you, wanting you to move closer to him.

“Come, my dear. Let’s remove these. They will be very useless in a moment,” he says, pulling at the hem of your underwear. Your face flushes with heat. It was the last scrap covering your skin, and it caused anxiety to grow within you. He hadn’t seen you in such a state before. Would he find this part of you attractive? Did he find you attractive at all? Did he actually want you? Your mind spirals with dreaded questions you couldn’t voice.

“Ma bichette. Come back to me,” he coos, his hands rubbing your chest and one of your hips. “Do you still want me to touch you?”

The soft way he asks nearly makes you cry. How sweet and kind he could be, despite everything. Tears nearly spring to your eyes at how safe he makes you feel. You can do nothing but nods in response, lest you sob as you try to answer.

Alastor holds the back of your head as he leans you back. He pulls your underwear down your legs as he maneuvers them to his liking. Once the cloth is removed and dropped over the side of the bed, he cradles you in his arms, letting your legs go across his lap. “Mwen renmen ou.” His voice is deep and comforting. You have no clue as to what he whispers against your hair, but you let his voice soothe you.

Alastor keeps whispering to you, even as he trails a hand down your navel and around your mound. With a control over his form, that you haven’t yet mastered, he blunts his claws, and trails his fingers over your newly exposed skin. His lips caress your forehead as he shifts a finger to press between the lips of your slit. A ragged breath escapes you, and your eyes fall on his face.

There is this look that you can’t describe, on his face. His eyes are softer than they have ever been, their radiant glow further softening his whole expression. His smile is small, but more genuine than you had seen it in weeks. Then, he starts whispering again, just as one of his fingers catches against your clit.

Your whole body lurches at the sensation. The hand holding your head tightens, and you’re forced to remain prone as he continues exploring you.

“J’adore ton sourire, mon cœur,” he purrs, finger pressing harder against your clit. It sends tingles up your body, and a moan escapes you. “Tu es ma joie de vivre.”

Alastor leans down, and finally presses his lips against yours. Your whole body trembles, and for a moment you see stars. His middle finger is pressing against your entrance as his thumb presses your clit firmly. Combined with his soft, warm lips, you feel overwhelmed. He pulls back, eyes hooded, as he presses his finger into you. Your legs clench, and your eyes flutter. Every worry that you had about the experience fades away as he slowly slides his finger in. Despite how slick you are, there is a lot of friction, making his entrance slower.

“Te me rends fou. Tu ma fait me sentir tout chose,” Alastor coos as he finally presses his finger in, all the way to his knuckle. His thumb rubs at the side of your neck as he grunts. “Si serré.”

“Alastor,” you whisper, your brows furrowing as you try to calm yourself. Your whole body is shaking now, chest and throat tight. You feel like a live wire, electricity coursing through you like a river.

“Yes, my little lamb?” Alastor asks, finally rubbing your clit again. Despite his inexperience, his touches are deft, and gentle. It feels unfair that he be so good at things he hasn’t done before.

“Please. I need it,” you beg, softly. Your back arches as he slowly pulls his finger out, and thrusts back in. You need him to just keep touching you. Anything. It feels better than you could have imagined this feeling.

“Of course, little one.” His forehead touches yours, eyes lidded as he gazes at you. “Does this feel right, my dear?”

You nod, trying to kiss him, but the hand on the back of your head keeps you from turning it too far. A breathy chuckle leaves him, and he kisses you.

As your lips connect again, he sets a pace with his fingers. Sparks flare out from beneath your navel, and it just feels so good. Your hands finally give up trying to find purchase with each other, and you grab at the arm reaching across your belly. Your fingers dig in as he curls his finger.

Alastor leans back from you, watching you closely. “Oh, look at you. Ma bichette. So good for me, aren’t you?”

His words turn up the heat in your belly, and you feel like you’re going to implode. Noises keep escaping you, and your eyes close tightly. You grasp at his hand, and then he twists it. The move sends you crashing over the edge, one you weren’t aware of being on.

Your body is white-hot for a brief moment, and then it all fades to static. Not quite like Alastor’s, but more like the fuzzy TV static. It blankets over you as your muscles spasm. Your lungs stutter and heave, muscles failing to find the rhythm you need. You vaguely hear your own voice muttering, and you can feel Alastor’s hand still.

“Ma moitié. You were so good for me,” Alastor mumbles, his hands cupping your face. “So good.”

“L’ve you, Al,” you whisper, feeling exhaustion crash over you. Your body gives in, and your eyes slide shut. You can feel Alastor stiffen, for just a moment, before he starts whispering words you don’t understand again.

“Que ferais-je sans vous, mon cœur?” Alastor’s voice is still that deep tone that he rarely lets you hear, and it soothes you. Within a few moments, you succumb to the need to sleep.

Alastor would stay vigilant, by your side, for the whole night. Even his own eventual need for rest couldn’t prevent him from whispering sweet words to you, and keeping you safe.

#alastor x reader #bun's short fics #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fluff #fanfic #alastor x reader smut #smut

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xcrust · 3 months

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Now in Technicolor

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss x Reader Insert

“Tune in folks! demons and damned souls, welcome back to the sultry airwaves of Hell's very own station. I must say, dear listeners, Hell has a certain charm, doesn't it? A cacophony of screams, the crackle of flames, and the subtle whispers of secrets that linger in the shadows. It's a splendid orchestra of despair, and I am here to be your guide through the infernal playlist”

You expected the man to be insane but you didn't expect him to be so unshameful.

“So, grab a pitchfork, kick back, and let the music of the damned serenade your darkened souls! Now let's talk about my latest massacre-”

As of the moment you're not actually with him. Though him doing his broadcast that reigns in all of hell almost feels like he's still beside you all along. As your point of freedom away from your family you decided it was best to get to know hell from the very people that walked the streets.

Since he began taking you under his wing, you decided to stay with him till you find your place to settle down.

You were an early riser so the radio was not really a bother. The weird universal agreement to decide night and day here is such a fascination to you. Nevertheless being hell meant there was never a time without someone awake causing chaos. The game plan of working your way up the charts is what your dad always said while growing up, "Don't take shit from other demons”. Starting with that is to gain a more hopeful advantage in knowing the people.

“Watch this!” a really grimy voice screamed out. Looking that way you could see a few imps running around gathering people's attention.

One taller than the average imp stood with horns adorned in flickering embers, cackling with glee as he addressed his chaotic minions. "Listen up, you fiendish crap! I think it's time to start a new and take back what should be rightfully ours”

In the heart of pentagram city, the joy that you get from seeing the disaster is always so fulfilling. You may be new to these parts but boy does it give you a rush.

A sleek abyssal demon slinked through the crowd, leaving a trail of illusions in its wake. The demon could not only morph into various grotesque forms but the path that it was leaving behind was startling and amusing onlookers. As it danced between the dimensions of reality and illusion, confused demons stumbled into each other, inadvertently causing a chain reaction of minor skirmishes and squabbles. But what you didn't expect was for him to come up to you.

“They do this every week, by now it should get through their heads no one is going to listen” His voice was deep. It was such a buttery kind of smooth.

“I don't know there seems to be a crowd starting” with a smile you look up at him to see an amused look on his face.

The scene in front of you did intrigue you a lot. The bottom of the food chain in hell trying to make a voice for themselves. Their treatment is a peculiar mix of disdain and indifference. Larger demons may kick an imp out of the way without a second thought or summon them with a snap of their fingers for trivial purposes. Imps are often subjected to the capricious whims of their more powerful counterparts, enduring cruel pranks and occasional bouts of aggression.

Though you never thought that, though treated as the lowest rung of the demonic hierarchy, imps often find themselves at the mercy of their more powerful counterparts. They serve as the labor force, taking on a myriad of roles and responsibilities that range from menial tasks to dangerous assignments. Whether it's cleaning the twisted architecture of demonic structures or scurrying about as messengers delivering missives between the higher-ups, imps are ubiquitous fixtures in the daily hustle of Hell

“The pride ring is the top show in these parts and what do we get?! We get booted to the side and have to deal with the hypocrisy of these stupid standards!!” Those who spoke up before started chanting about rights for imps.

Certainly something that you would stand behind. Maybe it's a closed minded thought process but what was the point of souls from earth having more respect than the ones from here?

The heartbreaking sight was to see them run out. Demons of all kinds were starting to riot against them. In the face of adversity, the mischievous imps vowed to continue their antics, proving that even the smallest creatures could leave an indelible mark on the tumultuous canvas of Hell The Hellraisers disappear into the chaotic crowd, leaving a trail of bewildered demons and a street strewn with toppled stalls. with mayhem reigning supreme in the darkened streets.

“It's stupid and kinda sad to watch” The man stood beside you huffing out.

“Aren't you a hypocrite, you're an earthborn yourself aren't you?” the ego that these people have never stops amazing you everyday.

“Yeah… just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm set in stone as a bad person… Though looking at you, I'd guess you're like myself but you look almost a little too perfect for a human” crossing his arms he looked at you.

“That's because im-! You know who you are anyways dickbag” This guy was seriously putting you off. Comparing you to whatever those disappointments are.

“Pump the hate breaks… I'm Walter by the way.. Since you asked." The cadence of his voice was so politician based that it could lead you to go insane.

As the chaos unfolded around you, Walter's nonchalant demeanor seemed to contrast sharply with the tumultuous scene. The imps' attempts to rally for their rights had escalated into a full-blown street brawl, with demons of varying sizes and shapes joining the fray. The air resonated with shouts, roars, and the occasional yelp from an imp caught in the crossfire.

"Quite the spectacle they're putting on, isn't it?" Walter questions raising an eyebrow

You observed the chaos with a mix of fascination and concern. The imps were outnumbered and outmatched, yet their resilience and determination to stand up against the status quo intrigued you.

"Yeah, it is," you replied, eyes still fixed on the scene. "Seems like they're fed up with being pushed around."

Walter chuckled, a dry sound that echoed through the cacophony. "Oh, they've been trying to make a statement for ages. It's almost cute."

"Cute?" You shot him a disapproving look. "They're fighting for their rights. It's not cute; it's necessary."

Walter's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shrugged, unimpressed. "Necessary, maybe. But in Hell, it's a matter of survival. Those little imps are just making noise in a world that won't listen."

The riot continued to escalate, with fiery projectiles, illusions, and general pandemonium swirling around. Amidst the chaos, a trio of larger demons emerged, their expressions twisted into malicious grins.

"Looks like the big guns are stepping in. This is where it gets interesting." you said while stepping back to not get caught in the crossfire. Values and morals aside, sometimes seeing stuff play out is widely more interesting than anything else. Fuck you sounded sadistic.

The trio of demons seemed to relish the opportunity to quash the imp uprising. With a wave of their hands, they conjured dark energy, sending shockwaves through the crowd of imps. You could see the smaller demons being tossed aside like ragdolls, their attempts at resistance quickly crushed.

You felt a surge of empathy for the imps, caught in a cycle of oppression and rebellion. However, Walter's detached demeanor left you conflicted. Was he merely observing the chaos, or did he revel in the anarchy that unfolded before him?

Leaning into you his dark haze felt almost suffocating. "Well, darling, what do you think? Will the imps triumph or become another forgotten footnote in Hell's sordid history?"

The question lingered in the air, emphasizing the harsh reality of Hell's hierarchy. The imps' plight seemed both desperate and valiant, a stark reminder that even in Hell, some fought for a semblance of dignity and recognition.

“Whatever, if this is just a game to you, I hope your luck runs out” you remark before heading out of the city center. Being around him made you miss the annoying voice of alastor.

Walking away from him was the easiest thing that you could do. His attempt to engage you in conversation, using terms like "darling" with a sly smile, only added to your growing irritation. It felt like he was mocking not only the imps but also your own principles and values.

The crimson glow of dawn began to seep through the curtains of Alastor's luxurious suite of his radio booth, signaling the end of another night's radio broadcast. The room, adorned with vintage furnishings and an air of refined chaos, bore witness to the aftermath of Alastor's nocturnal endeavors.

reclined in an opulent armchair, a contented smirk playing on his lips. The room still echoed with the faint whispers of his charismatic voice, which had reached every corner of Hell during the broadcast. The radio equipment, adorned with dials and adorned in a distinct retro aesthetic, hummed softly, now temporarily dormant.

Alastor found his thoughts occasionally drifting to the enigmatic (Y/n). a peculiar newcomer to Hell or at least to what he thinks. had managed to capture the attention of the radio demon in a way that he couldn't quite dismiss. The glimmers of defiance in (Y/n)'s gaze during their encounters had not gone unnoticed. Alastor, who revealed in the unexpected and the unconventional, found a peculiar satisfaction in the mystery that surrounded them. In Hell, where familiarity often bred contempt, the unknown was a rare and exhilarating novelty.

As the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, Alastor's posture shifted. He rose from the chair, his movements graceful and deliberate. Despite the seemingly chaotic nature of his radio persona, there was an undeniable elegance to his every action.

Alastor pondered the significance of this newcomer's journey through the infernal landscape. Why could he feel such raw power? Though why is it that he is reminded of himself when thinking about them.

Walking over to a nearby table, Alastor poured himself a cup of tea. The delicate porcelain clinked softly against the saucer as he sipped the hot beverage. The tranquility of the moment contrasted with the lively chaos he had orchestrated just hours ago.

Thinking back to last night, With a casual flick of his wrist, when he summoned ethereal tendrils that danced like shadows in the night. These spectral appendages slithered through the air, reaching out to the trembling souls and ensnaring them in a web of malevolent energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp under his influence, distorting the surroundings into a nightmarish landscape.

Alastor's mind, ever calculating, reflected on the success of the night's broadcast. The intertwining melodies of jazz and hellish commentary had woven a tapestry of entertainment, capturing the attention of listeners from the lowliest imps to the loftiest demons. The echoes of laughter and applause lingered in his mind like a symphony of souls.

As the jazz tunes from a nearby record player filled the air, Alastor reclined in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. The prospect of weaving the reader into the ongoing narrative of Hell sparked a mischievous glint in his eyes. (Y/n), in their apparent defiance of the expected norms, had become a wild card in the devil's deck of amusement.

Getting up to Leisurely strolling through the lavish suite, Alastor glanced at a vintage record player. He selected a vinyl record, the soothing crackle of the needle finding its groove as the melodic tunes of an old jazz number filled the room. The music, a stark departure from the energetic chaos of his radio show, created an ambiance of refined tranquility.

From below his window he sees these peculiar picture shows from down below.

"My, my, attempting to disturb the delicate balance of my little corner of Hell? How utterly quaint.”

“Hey! I'm back! Damn, is it a lively scene out there,” you call out as you stride into your shared living space.

Alastor, reclining on a vintage armchair, smirks in response. "Ah, my dear (Y/n), chaos is the very essence of this delightful realm. One must learn to appreciate the symphony of suffering that plays around us."

"Yeah, well, it's just something that I'll make work in my hand,” you reply, taking a moment to glance around the eclectic decor of your hellish abode.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Alastor stands up abruptly. "I know you just got back, but we are going out!" His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can tell he has something interesting in mind.

“Wait, I think I had my share—” you try to speak out before being abruptly grabbed by the arm.

“Come on, my dear!” In a flash, you find yourself whisked out of the apartment, leaving behind the familiar surroundings for whatever adventure Alastor has in store.

"Alastor, where are we even going?" you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. His usual grin widened, revealing a hint of mischief.

"Patience, my dear (Y/n). I have something intriguing to show you," Alastor replied, his voice carrying an air of secrecy.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "I thought it would be delightful to pay a visit to our esteemed TV demon. After all, shouldn't we take a look at all kinds of media?"

Before you could voice your reservations, Alastor pushed open the doors of the Vox Network headquarters, leading you into the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels stood guard, and Vox's voice echoed through the room.

"Ah, Alastor! A pleasure to have you in the building! , What a delightful surprise," a booming voice echoed from the center of the room. Vox, the flamboyant TV demon, materialized in a cloud of static. His slick, metallic appearance glowed in an array of colors, and his screen-like face displayed a perpetually changing expression. his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Vox extended a hand towards Alastor. the radio demon simply walked past to which earned a small glitch seen at the corner of his screen.

“Seems you've brought a pet?” The fact that no one knew who you were was starting to get on your nerves. Calling you a pet? Well that's something that will make you riot.

In the face of Vox's condescending remark, you felt a spark of irritation flicker within you. Alastor's dismissal of the TV demon's extended hand had left a peculiar glitch on Vox's screen, a subtle indication that the flamboyant host wasn't accustomed to being ignored.

"No one's anyone's pet," you retorted, asserting yourself in the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels glanced in your direction, their mechanical eyes narrowing as if registering an unexpected anomaly.

Vox's screen shifted to an intrigued expression, the colors dancing in an erratic display. "Ah, a voice from the shadows! I must confess, I wasn't aware we had a new player in this delightful game."

Alastor, leaning against a holographic display, observed the unfolding interaction with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "She's no pet, Vox. Just someone with a taste for chaos and curiosity about your little empire."

Vox chuckled, the sound reverberating through the sleek surroundings. "Chaos and curiosity, my favorite combination! How intriguing! So, (Y/n), what brings you into our glamorous world today?"

You crossed your arms, a defiant gleam in your eyes. "I'm not here to be entertained or become anyone's spectacle if thats what youre thinking.”

Alastor stepped in “We just thought we'd see what all the fuss is about."

Vox's screen displayed a mix of amusement and curiosity. "A renegade spirit, I like it! But you're in the presence of yours truly and We don't do small things here. Let's skip the foreplay and get into it. How about a little deal? I'll make you an offer you can't refuse."

You eyed Vox skeptically, wary of the gleam in his screen. Alastor, seemingly unfazed, glanced at you with a sly grin. "Go on, (Y/n), entertain his offer. He has no power or specialty. We might find something amusing in his little game."

“Ok first fuck you alastor and no way in the seven rings would I join you I wouldnt join anyone” The prospect of dealing with Vox made your skin crawl, but the allure of navigating Hell's media empire intrigued you.

Vox's screen flickered with a mix of surprise and subtle annoyance as you firmly rejected his proposition. The colors on his metallic visage swirled in a display of shifting hues, mirroring the complex emotions running through the TV demon's circuits.

"Well, well, aren't you a feisty one, Are you sure about not joining anyone? You seem like a loyal dog to that freak" Vox mused

Your resolve remains unshaken, and you meet Vox's screen with a defiant gaze. "I don't need your offers, Vox. I'll find my own way through Hell's chaos."

Vox's laughter echoed through the opulent reception area, a mix of genuine amusement and an underlying sense of challenge. "Very well, (Y/n). Should you change your mind or seek a taste of the limelight, you know where to find me.”

What a bitch… At this point you were at your limit so you walked out to the side of the room to not entertain this conversation. The fucking nerve of these people. Even Alastor was being a little bit of a shit at the moment.

“There's a certain allure to the unknown, wouldn't you say?" Vox pondered aloud, his screen displaying a charismatic smile.

Alastor, still leaning against the holographic display, turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, my dear.”

Alastor's antlers grew as he stood before Vox, his crimson eyes piercing

"Ah, Vox, my dear fellow," Alastor began, his voice carrying a melodic tone laced with a subtle threat. "I hope you enjoyed the rejection dance my little friend here performed. Now, let's get one thing clear – I don't dance to anyone's tune, especially not yours. You might be the new shiny toy right now but people always come back to the original"

Vox's screen glitched momentarily, revealing a flicker of irritation.

"What's the meaning of this, Alastor?" Vox demanded, his voice losing some of its usual charisma and taking on a sharper edge. "You come here and start bitching at me about not joining me?! We've already established that”

“You underestimate the consequences of refusing me, Alastor," Vox hissed, his voice losing its previous charm entirely. "This will be my realm to control, and those who reject my advances often find themselves in a far less favorable position."

Alastor chuckled, the sound echoing in the extravagant reception area. "Consequences, Vox? I've faced worse in my time. Your attempts to control the narrative may work on the masses, but not on someone who knows the art of chaos."

As Alastor turned to leave, Vox seethed with frustration. The TV demon couldn't fathom being denied, and Alastor's rejection left a lingering tension in the air. Vox's screen displayed an animated storm of chaotic colors.

A surge of annoyance swept over you. Alastor's encouragement of Vox and his apparent amusement at the situation grated on the reader's nerves. The reader couldn't fathom why he enabled the TV demon's actions especially considering the TV demon's manipulative and self-serving nature. To make matters worse it really felt like he was making fun of you.

“Fuck off Alastor”

"(Y/n), this is Hell, and power here is earned through deals and influence. If you want to make your mark, you have to start making deals," Alastor advised in a tone that was both casual and instructional. His words resonated with a hint of amusement, as if he relished the idea of the reader navigating the treacherous landscape of Hell.

“I'm not some social experiment, why are you still here?” however, was taken aback by Alastor's nonchalant attitude toward the situation. The idea of making deals in exchange for souls seemed like a slippery slope, and the reader wasn't sure if they were ready to embrace such a cutthroat approach

“Embrace it, and you'll see just how intoxicating the taste of power can be." he replied

If they were to survive and thrive in Hell, understanding the art of making deals was a necessary skill. With a determined nod, they acknowledged Alastor's guidance.

"Alright, Alastor. Teach me the ropes. I might as well learn how to play this game if I'm going to survive in Hell," the reader conceded, a resolute glint in their eyes.

“Im staying with you, but if you even think about being an ass while other people are around you're going to be counting your last minutes”

“Doll, if you can barely stand up for yourself, I don't think I have anything to worry about,” he laughed out.

He's seriously pushing your buttons right now.

“As an overlord, you have dominion over a specific territory or domain within Hell. This grants you considerable authority and control over the demons and souls, you want that right? Power?” he asked.

All of a sudden you heard a loud bash of commotion coming from a group of demons that appeared to be fighting.

Pushing through the crowd, they discovered a group of demons surrounding none other than Walter.

One of the larger demons, a hulking figure with horns resembling twisted spires, look with disdain. "This fool thinks he can waltz into our territory and act like he owns the place."

Walter, bloodied but defiant, attempted to maintain his composure. "Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for such hostility. Let's talk this out civilly."

The demons surrounding Walter scoffed at his attempts at diplomacy, clearly unimpressed. The reader couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at Walter's earlier arrogance.

"Perhaps, my dear (Y/n), we should let this play out. It's always entertaining to witness the ebb and flow of power dynamics in Hell," Alastor mused, his eyes glinting with a sinister delight.

"Come on! Do something about this!!, you can't just stand there and watch!" Walter's voice cracked with a mixture of pain and panic as he pleaded for help.

"My, my, Walter, seems like you've landed yourself in quite a bind. Who would have thought our charismatic friend would face such a predicament?" you said out loud

“please! I'm not cut out for this kind of roughing up!" Walter's words were desperate, his eyes pleading for intervention. The demons surrounding him laughed, reveling in his vulnerability

“Oh please you were such a bigshot earlier, get yourself out of this mess”

ignoring the demons' taunts, you whispered out a proposal which the smoked and leaned in closer to Walter and whispered the terms of the deal. The specifics echoed in the demonic air, forming an unspoken pact that hung heavy in the atmosphere.

"Deal," Walter agreed, relief washing over him as the terms were settled. The demons, though momentarily confused, soon found themselves turned to dust.

Alastor observed the scene with a raised brow, intrigued by the sudden turn of events. The reader's willingness to strike a deal for Walter's soul added a new layer of complexity

Looking back up to him and smiled, “is this what you wanted?”

As Alastor continued to observe the chaotic scene unfolding before him, a smirk played on his lips. The demons surrounding Walter, still reveling in the prospect of his impending downfall, were oblivious to the subtle yet profound shift in the power dynamics.

"Well, well, it seems you've decided to make a deal. How delightful!" Alastor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken agreement between you and Walter.

“Now, now, gentlemen, let's not keep our eager audience waiting. After all, this is shaping up to be quite the dramatic performance,” Alastor commented looking at the rest of the demons that just fell dead, staring at the corpses with a dark amusement lacing his words. He leaned casually against a nearby demonic structure, his radio-like grin widening.

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officialrailscales · 1 year

Text

FDE Friday Setup

QTR™ Stop | Terra Bronze

Karve® Hand Stop | Terra Bronze

TerraCore™ G10 1.5-Slot Solo’s™ | Matrix Texture

TerraCore™ G10 3-Slot RailScales® | Matrix Texture

TerraCore™ G10 4-Slot RailScales® | Matrix Texture

- RS

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sugarcoated-lame · 6 months

Text

Wake Up Call

Joel Miller x Female Reader

pre-outbreak Joel x reader

All of my works are 18+ minors dni!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel knows you’re not a morning person, so he often loves to help you wake up in way that you’ll both enjoy.

slow, sleepy morning smut with Joel :)

WC: 3200

Warnings: i’m terrible at titles and summaries i know, this is basically just smut (18+), established relationship, fluff, cuddly joel, smut, somnophilia (kinda?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, biting ? (joel bites reader’s shoulder once), a hint of overstimulation, use of a few pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), no use of y/n or description of reader’s physical appearance, moodboard is not indicative of reader’s appearance, joel’s morning voice and joel saying “good girl” in said morning voice deserve a warning. let me know if there’s any I missed! x

a/n: this was my first time writing an actual fic for Joel, so please be nice <3 this was based on some thots that I wrote for an ask that my beloved @sebsxphia sent me 🧡 this was so self-indulgent and I had such a fun time writing it and making the moodboard, I hope y’all enjoy reading!! happy reading, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 🧡

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

•

It’s a Monday morning like any other. The sun is still rising in the sky, languidly illuminating the world in its hazy golden glow, and you find yourself waking up the same way you do most mornings as of late.

Eyes slowly blinking open to the steadily brightening light that’s begun to make its way through the too-sheer curtains that cover Joel’s bedroom window, a broad chest pressed to your back, and soft breaths blown into the crook of your neck and moving a few strands of your hair along with them.

A strong arm is wrapped around your middle; one big palm splayed across the skin of your belly beneath your—his— t-shirt while the other rests underneath your pillow.

You’re growing used to waking up to Joel’s warmth radiating through you with all the nights you spend in his bed these days, his legs entangled with yours beneath the blankets that had been kicked further down the bed in the night, the extra warmth not needed when you’re completely encapsulated by the furnace that is Joel.

It’s still early as the two of you begin to stir, a while yet before either one of your alarms are set to go off and pull you from the comfort of each other’s embrace and Joel’s plush bed, and into readying yourselves for the upcoming workday.

The arm around your waist tightens as you slowly begin to wake. Joel burrows further into the crook of your neck, scruffy beard tickling at the skin of your shoulder where his shirt has fallen loose in your sleep, the action one that’s grown to be of great comfort for you.

Joel’s always been an early riser. All the nights spent together over the months that you’ve been together now, he’s always woken up before you.

He has an alarm clock, but you never understand why he bothers to set it in the first place. His internal clock is always waking him up naturally as the sun comes up, and approximately thirty minutes before Sarah wakes up for school.

Not that you’re complaining, though, because you’ve come to appreciate the slow and natural way you wake up with Joel.

His flurry of kisses to any patch of bare skin he can find, and the warmth of his broad chest pressed against your back always wake you up gently. It’s a routine you’ve come to love, miles better than any loud alarm.

Though Joel can never seem to sleep later than the sun, he loves it because it means he gets to spend a few extra moments just admiring your peacefully sleeping form.

He knows you’re not a morning person, that you love your sleep and hate nothing more than to be woken up by the shrill ringing on an alarm.

So, another benefit of Joel waking up before you is that he gets to wake you up slowly, gently, snuggling into you and littering your skin with kisses that he knows will bring about that sleepy smile that he loves so much as you begin to stir.

Joel’s morning voice is gruff and somehow even deeper than it already is normally as he turns to nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing a feather soft kiss to the skin just below your ear.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

In your still half-asleep state, you just barely grace him with a sleepy hum of acknowledgement before pressing your body back against his, cuddling further into his warmth and beginning to drift off again, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Since Joel knows that getting up early is not even close to your favorite thing to do, he often loves to wake you in a way that he knows you’ll both enjoy.

So, it’s no surprise to you when you begin to be pulled further from your slumber by the feeling of his arms retreating from around you, the loss of the comforting heat of his body against yours causing the tiniest of whimpers to escape your lips.

Joel smirks—though he knows you can’t see it through your still-closed eyes—those strong arms turning you onto your back before his body is sliding further down the bed.

Before you know it, gentle kisses are being pressed to your knees, leading a trail up to your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching lightly against your skin as he makes his way up towards where your panty-covered core has already begun to flutter in anticipation.

Calloused palms reach under your thighs and they’re no sooner being parted by the width of Joel’s broad shoulders, his plush lips pecking along the skin where your thigh meets your hip. Languidly making their way up to your hip bones, dotting a sweet kiss to both before descending.

Nosing along the cotton of your underwear, Joel sends a shudder through your entire body when he brushes over the damp spot that’s begun to darken the fabric.

Taking in your heady scent with a groan, his lips press a single kiss there before the warmth of his tongue laves against your seam through the thin fabric and pulls another sleepy whine from your parted lips.

Joel’s rough fingers dip under the waistband as he reaches up to pull them down your thighs, letting out a low groan as he slowly reveals your core, all pretty and glistening just for him.

You’re still not fully awake when he licks into you. His tongue white hot as it licks a broad stripe up to your clit, mixed with the pleasant burn of his facial hair scraping against the soft skin of your inner thighs, has your hips bucking against his mouth and quiet whimpers leaving your lips even in your still-sleepy state. Joel can’t help but growl at the taste of you.

His strong arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, to keep you open wide for him as he fucks you with his tongue, and it’s only when he sucks your sensitive bundle of nerves between those plush lips that you fully awaken on a broken cry.

With your eyes squeezed shut now from pleasure, one of your hands reaches down blindly into his soft, sleep-mussed curls as his tongue swirls around your clit in firm, tight circles.

You’re already getting close to reaching your high when your eyes finally open and you peer down to see Joel.

The bottom half of his face is slightly obscured under the covers as he makes his way back down to your entrance—the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and rendering you dizzy while his tongue laps up the gush of arousal there, and those deep, chocolate eyes boring into your sleep-hazy ones as one hand leaves your thigh so that one of his thick fingers can join his tongue.

Joel turns to press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you can feel his slight smirk against your skin along with the tickle of his beard as he murmurs a quiet “Mornin’, baby.”

The deep, raspy drawl of his morning voice has you clenching down around his finger as it pushes into you, pulling a breathy whine from you as your own fingers tighten their hold in his hair, and you’re barely able to get out a shaky good morning back to him.

In the tranquil, early morning quiet of Joel’s bedroom, you both can hear just how wet you are for him. The deep groan he lets out mixes with your breathless cries as you both listen to the squelch of his digit sliding in and out of you.

“Ya hear that?” Joel’s lips press again to your inner thigh. “So wet for me, darlin’. Were you dreaming of me?”

It’s all you can do in your hazy state to let out a hum of agreement and nod, not trusting your voice as his words and his thick finger pull you closer to that edge.

Joel’s cheek still rests along the smooth skin of your thigh as he turns his gaze upward to watch your face while his finger continues its ministrations. He nearly growls at the sight—your head thrown back and hair spread messily across his pillows. Brows furrowed and eyes clenched shut in pleasure, your perfect lips parted and letting out the prettiest sounds as he works you over.

“Joel— fuck.” You can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your parted lips as Joel adds in a second finger and crooks them just right. Turning your face into the pillows to quiet the sound—his daughter is still sleeping right down the hall, after all—your hips buck toward him of their own volition and push his fingers even deeper as they prod against that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me, baby.’ Joel praises with one last peck to your thigh, before he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your swollen clit that sends a jolt up your spine.

Then, he’s trailing back down toward your entrance, drawing another gasp from you as the tip of his nose just barely grazes your clit. You can’t help but whine at the loss of his fingers as Joel pulls them from your core, your walls clenching around nothing for only a moment before the warmth of his tongue takes their place.

Joel laps up some of your wetness with a groan that sends shockwaves through your core before his tongue presses back into you. The warm, wet muscle glides through your walls, in and out, and you find yourself whimpering in frustration at the feeling—oh so good, but not quite full enough.

It’s enough to have your hands relinquishing their hold on his locks and scrambling to pull him up the bed by his shoulders and begging him to fuck you.

“Joel, please. Need you now, baby!” Your voice sounds breathless and borderline frantic, and Joel can’t help but feel a little pride in just how worked up you get for him.

“Need—”

He cuts off your desperate pleas with a bruising kiss, pulling a needy sound from deep in your throat at the taste of yourself on his lips as they meet yours.

Joel parts from you to glance at the clock on his nightstand. He knows you’ve probably got about twenty minutes now before you each have to get ready for your respective days—before Sarah wakes up for school, and she’ll be knocking on his door to make sure that he’s up and ready to take her there before he heads to work.

Plenty of time to give you what you need.

Joel takes a moment to admire your features—pretty eyes still bleary from sleep, bottom lip swollen from his kiss and from being bitten between your teeth as you tried to keep your moans quiet. Chest heaving slightly in anticipation, nipples pebbled underneath the loose fabric of his t-shirt as you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans in to give you one more lingering kiss, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours in a languid swirl that leaves you feeling dizzy when he pulls away.

Joel shifts back onto his knees, and you have half a mind to protest him being so far from you before his hands are meeting your hips.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructs you softly, those strong hands moving you with a surprising gentleness as he guides you to lay on your stomach.

You lie with your cheek pressed to the pillow, fingers digging into the sheets underneath it, your body tingling with anticipation as you wait for him to touch you.

Joel hastily removes his boxers, biting back a deep groan as he gives his already-throbbing length that’s been neglected until now a few firm strokes, spreading the precum that’s pearling at the tip as he watches your thighs clench with need.

You feel the calloused palms of his hands begin to trail the back of your thighs, and up slowly over your ass, fingers pushing up the hem of his much too-big t-shirt that you wore to bed along with them and making you shiver as they expose the smooth planes of your back.

Joel’s hands slide back down to part your thighs and make room for him, lifting your hips just slightly, and then he’s positioning himself over you.

With his broad chest pressed to your back once again and your spread thighs bracketing his, he reaches down to run his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick and pulling sharp gasps from you both as his tip bumps against your clit, before he notches himself against your entrance.

His body is a comforting weight against your back, the both of you letting out simultaneous sounds of pleasure and relief as Joel pushes into you slowly. His face rests in the crook of your neck and he groans at the way your tight, wet walls envelope him just right, the muscles already clenching around him as he waits to move.

Hips pressed to your ass while he gives you a moment to adjust to his length, Joel revels in the way you whine at the fullness of him. It’s always a stretch to accommodate his size, but you always take him so well.

“Mm—move, Joel. Please, baby.”

Your words and your hips attempting to buck back against him under his weight are enough for Joel to start moving, arms bracing beside you as he pulls his own hips back, slamming back into you in one quick thrust.

“Fuck!” You bury your face in the pillows to muffle your moans as Joel begins a steady pace.

All of your senses are completely surrounded by him—his scent on the silky fabric of his pillowcase, the hairs of his beard scratching at the column of your neck as he quietly grunts and moans into your ear, the weight of his strong body pressing you into the sheets as his cock fills you up and quickly pulls you back toward the edge of that cliff, more than ready to fall off.

Joel’s lips begin a trail of kisses all along your neck and up to your ear so he can whisper directly into it, that deep drawl of his eliciting a downright sinful mewl from your lips.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always feel so good.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him tighter as Joel fucks you slow and deep into the mattress. Both his words and his hips stuttering as he drives into you, bringing you both closer and closer to your highs every time his length prods against that spot inside you that makes you feel like you’re going to come undone.

“So, fuck—fuckin’ tight.” Joel groans as he buries his nose in your hair.

One of his large hands reaches out to cover one of your own that’s still tightly gripping the sheets, the other snaking its way beneath your body to find your clit and you shudder underneath him as the speed of his thrusts begins to quicken.

Face still buried in the pillows, your desperate cries of Joel’s name are muffled as he works you closer to the edge. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick walls and filling you oh so deep, and the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit, leave your mind feeling hazy—and not because you’re still sleepy.

Joel can tell that you’re close from the way that your moans have shifted into breathless, broken cries, your cunt clamping down around his cock in a vice-like grip that’s driving him to the brink right along with you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He pauses to press a gentle kiss just behind your ear before he continues. “Need ya to come, baby.”

Joel’s words of encouragement, along with his deft fingers speeding up in their assault on your clit, have you falling over the edge with a sob of his name.

“Good girl.” He mutters close to your ear as his hips continue to piston against your backside, fingers still rubbing your clit and leaving you a writhing mess underneath him.

Your loud cries are softened as you bite down on the pillow below you when the pleasure borders on overstimulation. You feel so full as Joel continues to fuck you nice and deep, working you through your orgasm as he begins chasing his own.

With your release soaking his cock, and the velvety walls of your cunt practically strangling his length, his hips begin to falter in their rhythm and it’s only a few more thrusts before Joel reaches his peak.

Pressing impossibly deeper into you, he leans in to bite down on your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt to muffle his moans as he coats your spasming walls with his cum.

Joel’s deep, throaty moans mix with your softer sighs as his hips gradually come to a stop, still buried deep inside you as his fingers leave your oversensitive bundle of nerves, hand now retreating from beneath you as he lets his weight slump against you for just a moment.

With a few more kisses to the side of your head, Joel makes his way back down to your neck, and then to your shoulder where his lips press tenderly to where he knows is probably now a bite mark under your shirt, before he slowly pulls out of you.

The weight of him leaves you as he moves back onto his knees on the mattress, taking a moment to admire the mess of you both between your legs.

Joel then reaches for the box of tissues on his nightstand, grabbing a few to clean up the mix of your releases that’s begun to leak out of your core, tossing them into the trash can beside his bed and moving to turn you onto your back.

Body pliant and sated, and practically melting into the mattress, Joel can’t help but chuckle at you as leans down to meet your lips in a kiss so sweet it has you sighing against him.

It’s only a few moments after you’ve finished, after he lays back down on the bed and pulls you onto his bare chest, that the alarm goes off with the shrill signal that it’s time to start the day.

With a groan, you look up from your spot lying against Joel’s chest to see him already gazing down at you, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he reaches a hand up to run through your hair.

“Guess it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, your head flops back down onto his pec with another huff of disagreement and the two of you share a breathless laugh before Joel moves to shut off the alarm.

And, though you won’t admit it, you definitely wouldn’t mind an early wake-up call if you got to wake up like this every morning.

•

Aaaaah thank you for reading!! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! x

tagging everyone who reblogged the original post that this was based on 🧡 : @seitmai @givemeth @lumoverheaven @fangirlbang @onceupona-happilyeverafterlove @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @twoheartscanyon @sunblchdfly @caffeinated-idiot @fandomimagines2023

and a few others moots who i think may be interested 🫶🏼 : @softiedingo @joelsgreys @gasolinerainbowreads @thepascalofus @ilovepedro

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wileys-russo · 5 months

Note

can we get a morning blurb for alexia, leah and alessia in the style of the last two?

because i have some thoughts 💭

alexia gets up at like 5:30 am no problem and is productive as fuck while reader tries to get her to come back to bed and snuggle

leah gets up early but needs coffee and a moment of peace before she can actually start the day and is literally completely silent like you won’t get much more than “mhm” out of her, so reader and her usually just snuggle up a bit while they both wake up properly

alessia literally said herself that she needs several alarms and has a really hard time getting out of bed so reader usually has to drag her out and she is really grumpy and needy af for cuddles to compensate the fact that she had to get up

early mornings II a.putellas, l.williamson, a.russo

alexia

there was very little you couldn't and didn't love about your girlfriend. you adored how passionate she was and how that bled through into nearly every aspect of her life both on and off the pitch.

you loved how you saw a different side to her when it was just the two of you and her walls would come down. where with time she wasn't afraid to be vulnerable and emotional and raw, wrapped up in your arms after her knee would tweak or she'd look a little too deep into what the media was saying about her, just seeking solace within you as her safe person.

you were infatuated with how much she cared for her loved ones, family driven and fiercely protective of her inner circle. there wasn't much she wouldn't do for them and you found that utterly captivating.

however there was one thing about alexia that drove you up the wall and to the brink of frustration, and that was that she was somehow both a night owl and an early riser.

wound up after games she'd often forgo sleeping at all, opting instead to stay up and watch countless hours of footage, going over every little kick and tackle and sidestep with a fine tooth comb, desperate to find ways she could improve next time.

she could win ten nil and score a double hat trick and still seek out where her flaws lay, forever intending to better herself and her football every single day that passed.

you thought she might try to take better care of herself after her acl, but she'd ignored the warnings about her non existent sleep schedule her entire career and that wasn't about to change.

there were the rare nights she would go to bed with you and you'd finally fall asleep with her warm body beside you, limbs tangled together in crisp linen as soft words of endearment and tender confessions of love drowned your subconscious.

but the morning after you would always awake to cold sheets, stretching out desperately to find her, wanting nothing more than to curl into her strong arms and gently kiss her tanned skin as the two of you dozed in and out for a few hours, just wrapped up together in your little bubble of love.

but no, your girlfriends body clock insist she be up around five thirty each morning, off to the gym in your building complex for a workout with alexia always using the excuse it was empty that time of day and allowed her some much sought after privacy.

so each morning you'd wake up in an entirely different situation than the one you'd fallen asleep in and your mood would sour. you'd trudge out to the living room and most of the time her gym bag would be gone and you'd retreat back to bed.

but occasionally you'd find her curled up on the sofa with nala and a book in hand, cold cup of coffee beside her untouched despite her insistence she still make it.

this morning was not much different only alexia felt you stir beside her as she carefully slipped out of bed, never needing an alarm to be up and alert at the same time each morning, her body routine like clockwork.

"please stay." you'd pleaded, voice thick with sleep and barely loud enough for her to hear, reaching out to grab alexia's wrist as she'd tried to tuck you back in. "i have to workout amor." she'd whispered, face barely recognizable in the dim light of your bedroom, blinds still drawn and sun only just starting to peek over the horizon.

"no you don't. you're choosing to leave me, selfish woman." you mumbled, cracking one eye open to fix her with a grumpy glare as her soft lips curled into an amused smile.

"go back to sleep bebita. i'll have breakfast done when you wake again and you will not even know i am not here." her lips grazed your temple lovingly as slender fingers carded through your hair pushing it out of your face, and before you could even say another word she was gone.

true to her word you heard the bedroom door open a few hours later and the smell of her cooking gently waft through and invade your senses, but still annoyed you'd once again been depraved of a sleep in with her your eyes remained shut.

you heard alexia's footsteps pad softly around the bed and the click of her raising the blinds, warm sunshine bathing the room as your arm moved to cover your face.

"buenos días." you felt the bed dip as your girlfriend sat down, still refusing to move or acknowledge her in any way alexia chuckled and shook you softly. "stop." you mumbled, feeling her push your arm away as your eyes fluttered open, wincing at the sunlight and taking a moment to adjust.

alexia sat beside you with an amused smile embedded into her features. tanned skin covered with a thin sheen of sweat and clad only in shorts and a sports bra, freshly dyed blonde hair tied back into a neat ponytail.

"i said buenos días cariño." the older girl repeated, pulling back the blankets to reveal you as you only sighed deeply in response. "ale! you're all sweaty." you whined tiredly as she moved to lay down on top of you, her skin sticking uncomfortably to your bare legs as your top half was covered with an old spain jersey.

"earlier you beg me to get back into bed with you. i am now in bed with you and you tell me to go away!" the taller girl laughed softly as you halfheartedly tried to push her off, giving up quickly as she didn't budge so much as an inch.

"you're all gross." you grumbled, her lips gently trailing a series of soft kisses from your cheek down your jaw. "that is not very nice amor." your eyes met hers, pools of hazel staring down at you in amusement as she ducked her head and rubbed her damp hair in your face.

"alexia!" you groaned, pushing her off and rolling onto your side, mumbling a string of insults in spanish under your breath. "we have to change the sheets today anyway hermosa, stop being grumpy!" you reached back and swatted at thin air as her hands teasingly squeezed your ass which now faced toward her.

"you don't seem to mind the results of my work outs, hm?" as you rolled back onto your back she sat up on her knees, purposefully flexing her abs and biceps as you couldn't help but admire her incredibly toned physique.

"i've seen better." you shrugged, lazy smile curling onto your lips as she shook her head. "oh you have?" she climbed back on top of you, straddling your hips and pinning your arms by your head as you nodded.

you craned your head eagerly as she ducked hers as if to kiss you, though right as her lips ghosted yours you squealed feeling her fingers dig into your sides, trying desperately to throw her off as she only grinned and continued the attack.

"okay okay! you are the best!" you panted out, stomach aching from laughing so hard as your girlfriends body again laid down on top of yours, your hands moving to trace where you knew her tattoos were on her bare back as her face pressed into your neck.

"your laundrys done, i walked nala and i cooked your favourite mi vida. are you ready to get up now?" the catalan mumbled in your ear, her hands moving to thread through your hair, short nails scratching at your scalp.

maybe mornings weren't all that bad.

leah

you stirred as the first of leahs alarms went off, reaching behind your head to tap snooze, smacking the bedside table a few times before you eventually found her phone.

much too accustomed to your girlfriends routine you opened your arms as her body rolled over into you, shuffling up the bed a little as her taller form pressed tightly against you.

one hand threaded through her soft blonde locks which sprawled across the dark navy bedsheets, playing with it absentmindedly as the other moved to dip just below the waistband of her joggers to rub gentle circles into her hip bone with your thumb.

she lifted her chin slightly as you smiled and pressed your lips to her warm forehead, letting them linger there as you felt her body once again settle as she dozed back to sleep.

you knew the first of her alarms was really for you. it was to alert you to the fact leah needed to be up in around a half hour, and that during those critical thirty minutes she wanted nothing more than every single second of your attention even if still asleep.

you lifted one of your legs a few minutes later as her knee knocked yours, clad in a pair of soft grey joggers which matched the black pair covering leahs ridiculously long legs, one of which would slot itself in between yours further entangling your bodies together.

you flinched slightly as your blonde lover would exhale deeply, nose tucked into your collarbone as her warm breath tickled your sun kissed skin, both of you just returning from a weekend away in malta for her cousins birthday.

then ten minutes after the first the second alarm would sound, and your hand would move from leahs hip to again stretch behind your head and tap snooze.

you knew then to shuffle across and brace as leah moved to lay down on top of you, hiding her face in your neck as your nose would scrunch, her baby hairs tickling you as you'd gently move them away.

your hands would then sneak up the back of her shirt, though today she'd fallen asleep in a cropped tank top leaving her bare back exposed and ready. your nails would gently scratch lines up and down her back, comforted by the feeling of her weight on top of you as she'd begin to slowly stir.

her breathing still even you knew she was starting to wake as she inhaled deeply, nose grazing your shoulder before her lips pressed a lazy kiss to the column of your throat and you'd continue the rhythmic back scratches, your chin resting atop top her head.

you'd made the mistake of falling back to sleep once after a late night and the moment your hands fell to your sides you shot up awake as leahs teeth sunk into your shoulder, playfully biting you in warning as you'd chuckled and continued with what she wanted.

you'd stay in this position for a further ten minutes before leahs third and final alarm sounded. she'd always huff quietly as your nails left her skin, rolling off of you as you sat up with your back to the headboard, now stopping the alarms all together.

leahs head would wiggle its way into your lap as she stretched, eyes still closed and a grunt leaving her lips as she relaxed again. your fingers would then trace her facial features with a touch soft as a feather, your hair falling around the two of you like a curtain as your head dipped and lips pressed gentle loving kisses all over her face.

you'd mumble good morning against her forehead, tapping her nose as her bright eyes would open, corners of her eyelids thick with sleep as she'd rub at them.

stretching her arms up her hands with a quiet grunt would clasp the back of your neck, thumb rubbing small circles in the middle of your shoulder blades as you were pulled down to properly kiss her good morning.

then warning her of the time you'd gently pull her hands away, kissing her finger tips and dropping them to her sides, her head moving off your lap as you slid out of bed and she'd follow. wordlessly the two of you would move to the kitchen, leah taking a seat at the bench as you moved to the coffee machine.

most mornings her head would slump to rest against her forearms which crossed on the cool marble, eyes closed and drifting in and out to the gentle hum of the coffee machine, feeling the warm sun bathe her back from the huge glass doors that lead out to your backyard.

but on colder mornings, or just when she was feeling a little extra touch starved her body would cling to yours. you'd only smile and settle into the taller girl, her arms hung loosely around your torso often tucked under whatever form of material was covering you.

in winter you'd complain that her fingers were icy cold and she'd only smile into your neck as they ran teasingly up and down your naked sides making you squirm in her hold.

the english captain would never utter a single word until a drop of caffeine hit her lips, and you knew better than to expect anything different.

you knew just how she liked her coffee, i know leah doesn't drink coffee but lets just go with it, after all you'd been making it for her the same way in the same faded arsenal mug for the last three years, forever teasing that the more she drank from it the less and less the bright red crest was even visible.

but still, she refused to get a new one.

you'd hand her the mug and she'd reward you with a soft kiss in silent thanks. not much of a coffee drinker yourself you'd brew a tea, leah waiting patiently beside you sipping on her own drink. if she was awake enough she would sigh impatiently as you'd playfully send her a glare.

then hands warmed by your own mug the two of you would move to the sofa, leah sitting down first and stretching out as you settled yourself sideways in her lap, back pressed against the arm of the sofa as you clicked on the television.

her coffee finished and tired state fading this was when the defender would finally speak, arms encircling you and squeezing tightly. you'd run your free hand through her hair as her chin rested on your sternum.

your heart would swoon as a "mornin gorgeous" would fall from her lips and she'd steal a mouthful of your tea, moving the empty mug onto the table beside hers and pulling your body as tightly into hers as she could.

your routine was timed down to the second, and leah had another twenty minutes before she needed to shower before training, so the two of you cuddled up and often watched the morning news.

well more accurately you watched the news as as her eyes watched you, shining with a sort of tender adoration and hopelessly lovesick gaze that nobody would ever see but you.

alessia

you were wide awake long before you heard the first alarm go off, already laid on your stomach and scrolling through your phone. you gave it a few seconds, glancing to the mess of blonde hair peeking out from the covers to see if she stirred.

when she remained dead asleep you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up and leaning over her to flick off her alarm, the insistently annoying tone already making your head hurt.

knowing she had at least six more alarms set and didn't need to be up for another little while you allowed her to keep sleeping, flicking off the second and third alarm, eyes rolling in disbelief when once again she didn't even move.

on the fourth alarm you left it to ring out, seeing if an elongated period of time might mean it got through to her the way the shrill beeping was drilling into your own head. but once again, nothing.

"less, alarm." you shook her gently, hand above the covers as once more, nothing. "alessia, alarm." you warned, sitting up and now using both hands to jolt her body side to side. "yeah alright." she mumbled tiredly, one arm pushing you away from her as the other smacked around to stop the alarm.

you foolishly assumed that would be the end of it and she'd start to stir, but no the blondes body just collapsed right back into the sheets, pulling them up tighter toward her as you sighed deeply.

normally she was always a little harder to get out of bed of a morning, but having seen this pattern repeat itself too many times you knew today was going to be a real struggle.

but she needed to be up when you were like it or not, you'd made breakfast plans with your mothers and despite that your girlfriend had still stayed up late into the night on the phone to ella.

you'd kicked her out of the bed around a quarter to twelve, growing annoyed of the giggles and hushed conversations above your head, your girlfriend mumbling an apology into your hair and kissing the crown of your temple before retreating into the living room.

you'd had no idea when she'd come to bed, all you knew is that you were long asleep by the time she had and you'd woken up with her beside you. though it seemed she'd slipped in rather late considering her extra determination not to be awake right now.

a quick check of the time showed you had around fifteen minutes to battle with her about getting up, which knowing the striker laying dead asleep beside you was not enough time but you'd need to make do with what you had.

"lessi baby." you started softly, laying back down and moving her hair out of her face, slotting your body into hers and softly kissing all over her face. not even a flinch.

"time to wake up my love, we have plans to get ready for." you cooed in her ear, placing a few loving kisses to her neck as your hand moved to rub slowly up and down her back. "don't care." was all you received in response alongside a troubled sigh.

"yeah you do baby, you love your mum and we're going to have breakfast with her. it's already nine thirty, you need to get up." you spoke gently, hand moving to rest on her hip now as you again shook her body.

"no!" alessia groaned grumpily, rolling to face away from you as her next alarm sounded, her hand this time quick to tap it off within a few seconds. "yes!" you mocked, moving to sit on top of her, straddling the back of her thighs.

"come on baby, open those pretty blue eyes for me." you gently pushed up her top, ducking down and leaving a trail of soft kisses along her bare back up the line of her spine. "lessi." you sung out in her ear, only an annoyed groan following as her hand swatted to try and push you off.

"m'not going." she grumbled tiredly, tucking her arms under her head with a huff. "yes you are." you nodded, sitting back up and moving to jab gently at her sides. "no i'm not." she argued, face still smushed against her arms as you rolled your eyes.

"you are, so time to get up." you sang out, still poking and prodding at her, tickling her sides gently. "get off and stop fucking poking me!" she huffed moodily and you squealed as she suddenly rolled over beneath you sending you tumbling back to the bed.

"babe no!" you laughed but it was too late, the taller girl belly flopping down on top of you, pinning your body to the bed with her own. "sshh, go to sleep." the striker whispered, covering your face with her hand.

"get off me you dope, we need to get up!" you laughed, trying to wrench her hand off of you. "alessia!" you groaned now, grunting as you tried to push your body up but her larger form refused to budge. your annoyance grew as you felt her lips curl into a smile from her face tucked into your neck.

"i know you're awake so just work with me here and get up!" you grunted still trying to push her off as she purposefully went limp making it harder. "what time did you go to bed?" you sighed, starfishing out on the bed taking a breather.

"alessia. what time?" you repeated, tone more firm at her reluctance to answer. "four thirty, tooney and i played a little fifa and i lost track." her head lifted, eyes puffy with sleep as a guilty smile crept its way into her normally adorably sleepy features and your eyes bugged.

"oh you're going to breakfast! get off me right now russo." you warned seriously, the older girl doing as you asked but you groaned again as you tried to get up and her arms snaked round you.

"can't leave me now." she mumbled tiredly, arms pinned to your sides as she pulled your back into her front, swinging her legs over your own and sighing contentedly. "just lay there quietly, shut up, look gorgeous and cuddle me." your girlfriend requested, kissing your cheek before her head thumped back down to the pillow.

"if you wanted cuddles you should have woken up to your first alarm. we don't have time for this less!" you sighed, forever a stickler for punctuality as your girlfriend was the polar opposite hardly ever not fashionably late to everything.

"there's always time for a cuddle with me baby." the blonde debated, only squeezing you tighter and wiggling her body against you to prove her point. "i'll make you a deal." you started, one bright blue eye cracking open in silent confirmation she was listening.

"you get up right now, get ready and we go to breakfast. then when we get back i'll lay in bed with you for the rest of the day and we can cuddle all you want baby." you bargained, wiggling one arm free to affectionately graze her cheek.

"this feels like a trap." alessia mumbled warily, aware of your productive nature and that you forever used your weekends for errands and life admin, in disbelief you'd give all that up.

"oh for god sakes, less! we need to get up please." you whined, head thumping dejectedly. "fine!" the blonde eventually groaned, letting you go as she sat herself up. you couldn't help but smile as she glared down at you tiredly, pushing her hair to one side of her head and rubbing her adorably puffy face.

"alessia!" you grunted as once more she belly flopped down on top of you, wriggling around until she was comfortable, moving one hand to thread through your hair as the other covered your mouth shushing you softly.

"we will get up in five more minutes."

#leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alessia russo #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso fanfics #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso

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reignof-fyre · 2 months

Text

I'm gonna say it: it's aemond's own fault he lost his eye in both the show and the book. Both times, he snuck out to claim vhagar. In the show, he wasn't stopped. In the book, three year old Joffrey Velaryon was with his dragon because he was an early riser and told Aemond to stay away from Vhagar, so Aemond - who was much older - pushed little three year old Joffrey over and, in his fear of being caught because he knew he was doing something his parents would like, claimed Vhagar and flew her for the first time.

Baby Joffrey, all of three years old, then of course runs to get his big brothers, likely crying and terrified. Because he's, y'know, A BABY.

In the show, Aemond claims Vhagar and with arrogance and smugness returns to the castle, high on the fact that he'd just claimed Vhagar, uncaring of how rude/insulting it may have been to claim Vhagar on the night of her previous riders funeral, like A NORMAL PERSON.

When, in the show, Rhaena and Baela confront Aemond with Luke and Jace, they're clearly upset. Their mother has just died, its her funeral, and their last tether to her - Vhagar - has been claimed by Aemond. They say he stole her, and while dragons can't be stolen, he did use underhanded tactics to obtain her and bond with her. And his haughtiness afterwards, towards the daughters of the woman whose dragon he just claimed, is what makes the altercation his fault.

Baela, upset: Vhagar is my mother's dragon!

Aemond, uncaring: Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now.

Rhaena: she was mine to claim!

Aemond: then you should have claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.

Rhaena then hits Aemond, provoked into this by his cruel words and actions. Was it right? No. But it's literally the night of her mums funeral, Vhagar has been claimed by someone who clearly doesn't care about her mother, and he just insulted her. Aemond pushes Rhaena to the ground, so Baela slaps him in defense of her sister, and he punches her in the face.

Aemond: come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!

Now aemond is threatening to murder his cousins, which is par for the course for hid character. He always had kinslaying in him.

The fight devolves even more, and Jace and Luke get involved, defending their cousins. Luke, a little kid, is whacked and shoved to the ground, so Jace jumps in. Then Baela decides to help, and she and Luke - both of them younger and smaller - start wailing on Aemond (u go kids).

Aemond kicks Luke off of him, throws Baela off, and stands only to grab Luke - only five - by the throat and hold a rock over his head and threaten him.

Aemond: you will die screaming in flames just as your father did, bastard.

Luke, terrified and upset: my father is still alive!

Aemond, amused: he doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong.

This is when Jace pulls his knife, literally the size of my thumb, and attacks. Jace us quickly unarmed by Aemond, who is still holding the rock, and Luke sees the blade. Aemond holds the rock over them, smirks at Rhaena and Baela, then gets sand thrown in his face and Luke slashes at him wildly, not even aiming for his eye, just aiming to stop Aemond from hurting Jace and himself and his cousins, because at this point Luke has heard death threats, and seen Aemond take on him and the other three easily and win, so of bloody course this terrified little boy used a weapon to defend himself when it became necessary.

After, Alicent makes the situation about her because she's a poor uwu baby (gag me with a chainsaw, I loathe her) and attacks Rhaenyra as though Rhaenyra and her kids were in the wrong? Gurl.

Aemond will then go on to use him losing his eye as an excuse to use his war dragon to chase fourteen year old Luke on tiny baby Arrax and have the FUCKING AUDACITY to look shocked when it went wrong? Aemond is still at fault for Luke's death even if "he didn't mean it" or "he lost control" (he's not a true dragon lmfao)

In the book, Joffrey - who is three - returns with Jace and Luke, who grabbed wooden swords - they won't help against Vhagar bbys - in defense of their brother.

Despite it being three on one, Aemond was winning the fight until Luke slashed him, and good thing he did otherwise Aemond wouldn't have stopped in my opinion. He'd have kept going, beating the boys to bloody pulps. It was stable-boys who had to end the fight, where were the guards? Cole was probably simping over alicunt tbh.

Also, Alicent was the first to demand Luke's eye in recompense for Aemond losing his soz not soz ya uwu Queen is a cunt heh

Aemond will then, years later, attack Luke because of this and kill him and start the Dance of Dragons in full because not only did he cause the events that took his eye, but also the worst war in history, all because he's a little bitch baby sociopath with genocidal tendencies lmfao

Also, Aemond got off lightly, merely losing his eye - do u know what the punishment is for people who attack a princes' daughters and the heir to the throne sons? Calling them bastards, which is treason!!!! Death. Bitch shit should be exuberant that he merely lost an eye. Unfortunately viserys is a bitch and didn't send Aemond to the Wall like Jaehaerys would have for fucking real lol

#pro daemon targaryen #anti aemond targaryen #anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #anti aemond stans #anti team green #pro rhaenyra targaryen #pro blacks #team black babey #pro Jacaerys Velaryon #pro Lucerys Velaryon #pro baela targaryen #pro rhaena targaryen

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