#and i was like oh my god half of these people have me blocked man đ like fuck off
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finally just took initiative and blocked ALL those people who have some sort of server where half have me blocked for the stupidest pettiest dorkiest reason ever 𫡠spread hate
#including the one who blocked me bc i asked them to credit something I Made that they were using for their header... fucking loser#i was mutuals with like one past mutuals with a couple and i just got a post from them tagging all these people#and i was like oh my god half of these people have me blocked man đ like fuck off#couldn't take it ANYMOREâźď¸
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pairing: established daryl dixon x f!reader
wc: 5.9k
summary: pretty much trying to make Daryl jealous GONE WRONG !!!!
warnings: 18+ content, swearing duh, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, squirting, little bit degrading, some spanking,,,,
A/N: GOD this took way longer than it shouldve but writers block makes me want to shove my fingers in my eyes. anyway i hope this was worth the wait because i do not enjoy this as much as i should. BEWARE not fully proofread so i may come back to edit things im just so fucking tired and wanna get this out asap. also i personally dont believe that daryl would be the type to be this rough during sex but a guy can dreamâŚ
masterlist!
Daryl was never the jealous type, he trusted you and your decisions so there was no point in getting jealous. He had you, you both knew it. So when a certain man in Alexandria started pursuing you, he didn't pay much attention.
It sort of bothered you, feeling kind of guilty that you wanted your boyfriend to be jealous. You guessed it was just cause you wanted him to be possessive, but he wasn't like that. He cherished you, held you carefully. Sure he liked people knowing he was your boyfriend, but he wouldn't go as far as to mark you up or do something rash in public. That didn't mean he didn't care about you, hell he loved taking care of you and loving you. He just preferred to keep your intimate life private.
You were outside in the front yard tending to some flowers when the guy pursuing you, William, walked up.
âHey, (Y/N).â He grinned down at you, making you have to look up at him. Squinting from the sun in your eyes, smiling.
âOh hey, what brings you here?â You replying in a friendly tone, wiping the dirt off your knees before standing up and taking your gloves off. You could feel Williamâs eyes trail down your body and you mentally eye rolled.
âJust⌠yâknow. Hanging around, taking a walk⌠Whatchaâ up to?â He murmured, clearly distracted.
You laughed sarcastically, âjust fixinâ up these flowers. Couple of kids ran over them yesterday.â William nodded absentmindedly, staring at everything but your eyes.
âUhuh⌠poor dogâŚâ He mumbled, clearly not paying attention to anything you just said and it took everything in you to not just flip and slap him across his stupid face.
The front door opened, Daryl walking out with his crossbow on his back, covering those angel wings on the fabric of his vest. You looked up at the sky as if thanking some kind of god for sending Daryl to save you. Though to your misfortune, he wasnât staying for long.
âJusâ goinâ out huntinâ,â he murmured gruffly and kissed your cheek briefly, nodding towards William before walking down the street towards the gates. Your eyes trailed after him sadly while your shoulders slumped, nibbling your lip to stop yourself from calling him back.
âUh (Y/N)? I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to pick some berries later, I could even make you a pie with them if youâd likeâŚâ William broke through your thoughts and you thought for a bit. One half of you was telling you to say no, but the other half sort of wanted to make Daryl jealous. Or at least try. Ultimately you decided on the second option, this could be funâŚ. right?
âSure, later then?â You smiled at William, watching as he looked down towards your chest again, a slight scowl appearing on your face.
âMhm⌠Iâll pick you up later then,â he mumbled. You immediately broke out into a smile once he looked up at you again, you just nodded before turning towards your home. Your smile dropping once you entered the house.
The hard part was getting through the afternoon with William, the aftermath with Daryl would surely be the best part.
You sat in the kitchen, doodling in your notebook as you waited for William to come pick you up. Around this time Daryl came home, removing his muddy boots knowing how much you hated when he made a mess in the house before walking into the kitchen to find you with your back to him. You could feel his gaze trail down your body, keeping still particularly around your legs, which were shown off by the shorts you were wearing. Unlike William, you quite liked when Daryl stared at you like this.
You giggled once he came up behind you and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms. Planting soft kisses along your neck and exposed shoulders. âMmmh⌠ma girl dress up fer me?â He grumbled, turning your chair around to get a closer look at you. You felt a sense of pride as he bit his lip, admiring your legs, more specifically your thighs which he squeezed affectionately. You werenât wearing anything extremely extraordinary per se, but it was new to him. You usually covered yourself up for no particular reason, maybe it was your subconscious teasing Daryl since you knew how much he loved seeing you, every part of you. You were just simply wearing a lower cut tank top along with some jean shorts you pulled up in the back of the closet.
He grunted, moving his lips underneath your jaw and planting teasing kisses there, causing you to giggle, âI didnât dress up for you⌠Iâm going out.â You smiled, rubbing the stubble at his jaw with your thumb.
He jerked his head back slightly, furrowing his brows. âGoinâ out without me?â He snorted jokingly, running his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp which elicited a soft moan from you. âSounds like you wanna stay home witâ meâŚâ He huffed, kissing your neck again more forcefully. His hands squeezing at your sides as if trying to convince you to stay home.
You groaned, pushing him back, his hands sliding down to your hips. As much as youâd like to stay home and continue this with him⌠You were on a mission. And it was to make this man in front of you get jealous. It was like your one fantasy about him, treating you like you were nothing but his. Using you to satisfy his needs, fucking you roughlyâŚ
âSorry baby, I promised to helpâŚâ He narrowed his eyes at the nickname but shrugged it off, instead frowning. Rubbing circles into your hips.
âWho ya goinâ with?â He mumbled, burying his face into your neck. Gently pecking any skin he could get his lips on. Your shoulders shook softly as you chuckled, your fingers in his hair.
âWilliam, he asked to help pick berries so he can bake us a pie.â You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about it.
âErr William, the guy you were talkinâ to earlier? The guy who has a painfully obvious crush on ya?â He furrowed his brows questioningly, was it finally working?
You rolled your eyes, âwell yeah. That doesnât mean I canât be friends with him though, right?â He narrowed his eyes, moving his hands down to your thighs and shrugging.
âGuess so, whaâs the harm in that?â He murmured, rubbing his thumb against the flesh of your thigh. A spark of warmth pooling into your stomach at the gesture, âjusâ be careful. I trust ya, I donâ trust him though. I see the way he looks at ya.â
You sighed, slightly disappointed you couldnât wring out a bigger reaction from him. Nodding in understanding you responded, âyeah I know. But donât worry heâs a good guy, I can see it.â You lied smiling, hoping he wouldnât see through you. He squinted at your defending of William, but again he shrugged it off.
âWell alrighâ, have fun then.â He kissed your cheek, removing his hands from your thighs. The warm feeling leaving you with his hands. You stood up, closing your notebook and wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing him tenderly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back happily. His arms held you in place as his kisses moved down to your chin and onto your neck, softly suckling at the skin causing you to giggle and squeeze him back.
The knock at the door catches you both off guard, Daryl letting you go reluctantly after kissing your lips briefly. You sighed not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to if you wanted to see a jealous counterpart to your boyfriend. As you walked towards the door he gave you a small pat on your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.
You grinned at him before opening the door, Williamâs eyes immediately blazing down your figure. You could hear Daryl snort behind you causing a smirk tug at the corners of your lips. Deciding to tease Daryl a bit you chuckled at William, âlike what you see?â
William was caught off guard by your comment, obviously never hearing you give in to his advances, âoh yeah very muchâŚâ You smirked, nudging William playfully.
Daryl stood still behind you, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. âYeah you bring âer back before 7 pm. Anâ donâ try anythingâ,â he said jokingly, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.
William straightened up, he was well aware of your relationship with Daryl but it never stopped him. âOf course⌠Iâll make sure sheâs well⌠taken care off.â He hovered his hand onto the small of your back, you took the opportunity and placed his hand firmly on the area. Smirking at Daryl.
âIâll see you later thenâŚâ You grinned, placing an arm around Williamâs shoulder. You cringed in your head, doing all this with William was probably fueling his desire for you. The thought sickening. But by the look on Darylâs face, it was working. His eyes narrowed, nodding slowly while he nibbled the inside of his lip. He waved to you, keeping an eye on Williamâs hand on the small of your back while he shut the door to your house.
You sighed deeply now that you were alone with William, slowly moving out of his grasp discreetly. The man grinned at you which you returned with an awkward smile. Now for the hard part, actually hanging out with this guy.
After an agonizing 3 hours of picking berries while flirting with this guy he finally brought you home, after 7 pm, just so Daryl can get a bit more angry about that. You knocked on the door, hearing heavy footsteps come closer before Daryl opens the door.
âHey⌠itâs like 8pm,â he murmured, kissing your cheek. You smiled, turning to William.
âOh well I just had soooo much fun with William, he is such a great guy!â You exclaimed over enthusiastically which Daryl found odd but he shrugged it off, eyeing the man behind you. Who was licking his lips while looking down your back.
âIs that soâŚâ Daryl mumbled skeptical of you two. The other day you were just complaining about how creepy this dude was, and now youâre talking him up like heâs the best person in this fucked up world?
Your eyes twinkled once you realized your teasing was getting to him, deciding to push it and hug William, reluctantly giving him a kiss on the cheek. He of course, hugged you back happily, his hand trailing lower down your backâŚ.
You gasped as Daryl grabbed you before William could touch you further. âOkay thaâs enough, goodbye William.â He grunted and slammed the door in his face.
You bit your lip in anticipation, looking up at Daryl who was fuming. âHunâŚ?â
âWhat the hell was that about?â He grumbled, pulling away from you. You tilted your head innocently, walking up to him.
âWhat do you mean?â You asked gently, running a hand down his chest. Which he grabbed forcefully, throwing it back.
âYou think thaâs funny?â He growled lowly, his eyes glaring at you enraged. You chuckled, not taking this seriously because it was what you wanted. Stepping towards him with a seductive look on your face.
âAww is my Daryl jealous?â You hummed playfully. He stared at you in disbelief, running his hand through his hair, a loud grunt escaping him as he paced the room. Your face dropped immediately, definitely not the reaction you expected.
âThaâs what that was about? You tryna get me jealous? Yer fuckinâ kiddinâ me girl,â he spat agitated. You just stood there looking down at your fingers, not expecting this to backfire so badly. âShoulda jusâ fucked him at that point. The asshole was practically fucking ya with his eyes.â He growled lowly, pacing around you.
âI didnât mean toââ You started softly.
âDidnât what?!â He yelled causing you to flinch, he rarely raised his voice at you. Just by this action alone you knew he really was angry, not just frustrated, pissed. Off.
âI just wanted to⌠get you angry,â you mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.
âWell ya did, happy?â He grunted, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips. A stern look on his face, âI didnâ even care if ya wanted to hang out with the guy. But goinâ as far as to kiss and touch up on âim. Not fuckinâ funny. Especially when yaâve been complaininâ about him all week, whaâs wrong with you?â
âI didnât⌠actually kiss him yâknowâŚâ you argued softly, looking down ashamed of yourself.
âNot the point. Itâs the fact that you, flirted, acted invitingly, and even kissed a guy on the cheek whoâs been tryna get witâ ya, invitinâ him fer more. Hence the way he almost grabbed your ass. You led him on, purposefully to get a rise outta me.â He said through gritted teeth, his gaze piercing.
You sighed, realizing how out of line youâve been acting. Your own lustful desires leading you to act out stupidly. âIâm sorry⌠I didnât mean for this to go this far.â You whispered, looking down embarrassed.
He took your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Fury flashing through his blue eyes, his breathing heavy. âI bet,â he grumbled, harshly letting you go before walking upstairs to your shared bedroom. You stood downstairs, beating yourself up mentally for acting like an idiot. The door to your bedroom slamming shut as Daryl locked himself up upstairs.
You groaned, digging your palms into your eyes frustratingly. Not liking the outcome of this at all, instead you were left needy, ashamed, and with your boyfriend angry at you.
A few days passed and Daryl was still rightfully so angry at you, ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder. Still, you couldnât help but feel annoyed. Was he really that angry?
You found your boyfriend outside on the front porch sharpening his knife, his muscles flexing slightly by the force he used. The longer he stayed angry at you the more desperate you got. You were practically aching for his touch, to feel him against you.
âDar?â You said quietly, stepping out onto the porch. He didnât turn his head but you could see his eyes shift up towards you, grumbling something you couldnât quite make out before returning his gaze on his knife. You frowned once you realized he was ignoring you again, moving to sit down next to him, to which he immediately stood up and holstered his knife. âCan you just talk to me?â You sighed exasperated.
âDunâ wanâ âta talk.â He mumbled, stepping into the house. You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. Daryl spun around, glaring at you. âThe fuck do you wanâ?â
You scoffed, crossing your arms. âCan we just talk and be fucking mature about this?â
âYer one âta talk,â he grumbled under his breath to which you rolled your eyes at.
âI said I was sorry, I really am Daryl! But youâre being so unfair, you wonât even kiss me.â You threw your arms up before running your hands through your hair, all he did was roll his eyes and shake his head.
âWhatever, you pull thaâ shit on me then you get what you get,â he grunted before turning to head into the living room. You watched your boyfriendâs back angrily as he exited from the conversation.
âFine,â you grumbled to yourself, stomping upstairs. If he wanted to play this game then you were too, wanting to see how long itâd take for him to snap. Rummaging through your closet you decided to put on a very, very short skirt. Wondering to yourself as to why you even have this in the first place, well first time for everything. You made sure to put on a pair of panties that you knew for sure would drive Daryl crazy, finally finishing the outfit with a tight fitting tanktop. After looking at yourself in the mirror you snorted, you looked ridiculous for sure but maybe itâd work.
You made your way down the stairs quietly, walking with a little sway in your step. Daryl wasnât shy about his attraction to your body, he loved having his hands on you so you were curious to see what he would do seeing you like this. Especially having not touched you for days now. You moved swiftly into the living room where he was sitting on the couch smoking, you felt his eyes immediately shift over to your body, a shift from where he was sitting.
âWhaâ are ya wearinâ?â He grunted, his voice a slight rasp while he looked you up and down. You turned to him, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips.
âItâs a little hot today⌠sâall.â You chuckled, moving towards the disc rack. It held a lot of cds for music, the two of you never played anything because of how outdated it was but you went over to look at it anyway. Hearing the way he choked once you bent over to check out the bottom of the rack. You moved onto your knees, reaching under the rack to grab, nothing. There was nothing under the rack, but his breathing was getting heavier and you knew he would give in soon.
You sat on your knees, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. Smiling once you met his eyes, he was already looking at you with parted lips. His cigarette sat between his index and middle finger, nothing but a mere object as he already forgotten about it. His leg crossed over the other while his eyes started at your own, slowly moving down to your lips. Then the swell of your neck, down your back, and of course over to your ass which was peaking out from under your skirt. He swallowed thickly when he noticed the lace fabric of your panties, contrasting beautifully with the colour of your skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, from the look in his eyes you knew he was aroused. You just had to push him further to get him to actually act on itâŚ
You stood up slowly, making sure to flash him a little of your panties. He coughed, putting out the cigarette as you walked up to him. Slow and seductive. However he kept his eyes ahead, you wouldâve scoffed if you were still in a mood but you were far too aroused to do all that. He was stubborn and you praised him for it, after all you were both the same. You lightly traced your fingers up his forearm, towards his bicep, and then over his shoulder. Standing behind him as you leaned down next to his ear, âwhatâs that look for?â You whispered low and sultry.
âWhaâ do you think yer doinâ?â He murmured quietly, his breathing shortening. You smirked, placing a soft kiss under his ear, his breath hitching as you do that. â(Y/N).â He said lowly, your hands moving from his shoulders and down the front of his chest, slowly making your way down to his belt. Looking over his shoulder and noticing the huge bulge in his pants, a sense of pride flowing through your body at the effect you had on him. He uncrossed his legs due to the tightness in his pants, groaning softly as your hands moved down towards his thighs, teasingly avoiding his erection.
âIâm not doing anything,â you whispered in his ear, causing him to shudder back onto the couch. His breathing shallow and hot while one of your hands moved towards the erection.
âDonât.â He muttered, grabbing your wrist. He flicked your hand back away from his crotch, suddenly getting up and turning to face you. His eyes were narrowed and full of fury, but most importantly. Lust.
His piercing blue eyes looked at you with a hungry gaze, stepping around the couch to stand closer to you. Nibbling the inside of his lip as he stared at you, especially your exposed thighs. He abruptly picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder carelessly, causing you to shout out in protest. âDaryl! Put me down!â
âShut it.â He growled lowly which for sure shut you up quickly. He moved through the house with ease, walking up the stairs and making his way towards your shared bedroom. His fingers dug into your thighs possessively which drew out your excitement even more, wondering what he would do to you. He walked into the bedroom with you over his shoulders, shutting the door with his foot and throwing you onto the bed, eliciting a small yelp from you. Your eyes were wide when you met his own, his jaw clenched at the sight of you laying on the bed in the provocative outfit. He grunted, crawling onto the bed and up to you. Rough and calloused hands gripping onto your thighs as he pushed them apart, a raspy groan leaving his mouth as he saw your soaked panties. âThis whatchaâ want?â He murmured with a hint of amusement, running a finger over your slick covered panties.
âDaryl,â you gasped, closing your eyes. His free hand shot up to grab your face harshly, your eyes opening in shock.
âYou look at me, ya ainât gettinâ outta this one easily girl.â He drawled, letting go of your face as he removed his finger from your panties, âand I donâ wanna hear a word from thaâ pretty little mouth of yours unless I say so, ya hear me?â You nodded slowly as you met his intense gaze.
âGood girl,â he murmured which had you throbbing around nothing. His hands grabbed at the collar of your tanktop, ripping it off your body easily. You gasped, wanting to scold him for ripping it but you kept quiet as to not anger him even more. His eyes rolled back in arousal when he saw you werenât wearing a bra underneath the top, âsuch a fuckinâ tease.â His hands groped at your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch as you let out a quiet moan. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on one of them, licking around the bud before biting down harshly. A loud groan left your lips, causing him to growl and pull away.
Your eyes searched for his while you panted softly from the loss, his hands gripping your waist and flipping you over onto your stomach before grabbing your hips and lifting them up so your ass hung up in the air. âHold yerself up baby,â he grunted. You did as you were told, placing your hands underneath you and onto the bed while pushing yourself up so you were on your hands and knees. Blushing profusely from the position you were in, trying to turn your head to look back at him. He slapped your ass once, a groan escaping you at the contact before his hands started pulling off your skirt, tossing it onto the floor haphazardly leaving you in your lace panties.
He sat up on his knees, teasingly running two fingers over the waistband, lifting it off your skin only to let it go and have it snap against your hips. You jolted slightly, one of his hands rubbing your ass softly before slapping it again. He leaned closer towards your ear, biting your earlobe before whispering gruffly, âdonâ think âm gonna be gentle tonight. No, you got yerself into this.â
You whimpered as he pulled away, a big hand grabbing at the crotch of your panties and ripping them apart. The same hand running its fingers through your slick causing you to moan, your arms shaking momentarily. It didnât take long before two thick fingers plunged themselves into your tight entrance, the sudden intrusion causing you to cry out, âDaryl! Wait!â
âShut up,â he grunted. Forcing his fingers in and out of you roughly, the pain mixed with pleasure only made you wetter, groaning softly. The obscene noises of his fingers thrusting into you at that speed echoed through the small space of your bedroom, your moans getting louder as you got closer to your orgasm.
But just as you were about to reach that sweet release he yanked his fingers out of you, bringing them up to you and shoving them into your mouth. Immediately your tastebuds were met with the taste of your own arousal, âsuck.â He growled lowly to which you obliged, sucking on his fingers that were covered in your juices. He groaned as your tongue slithered between his two fingers in your mouth, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants.
He removed his fingers, moving behind you once more and giving you a little tap on your bum. While you kept your head straight forward, looking at the wooden headboard. You heard the clink of his belt being undone, soon pulled out of his belt loops. You breathed heavily out of your nose once you heard the sound of the belt being tossed aside, hitting the floor with a slight thud. The heat pooling between your legs was getting hotter, throbbing with need as you waited patiently. Your arms were burning from holding yourself up while your stomach swirled with anxiety and excitement.
You heard him shuffle behind you, his pants soon joining the rest of the garments on the floor. His eyes were on you the entire time, though you couldn't see it, you could feel it. By the way his breathing deepened seeing your pussy clench at nothing, the way a low purr sounded from the back of his throat, and the way your skin burned from his lustful gaze. When it got a little too silent you turned your head back, you eyes immediately meeting his. He peered at you through his eyebrows, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up over his elbows. Biting your lip when you saw his forearms, sprinkled with random tattoos here and there. Ones youâd kiss over when he'd make gentle love to you, but it would be different this time.
You couldn't look any lower from the position you were in, settling to look back at the headboard. Which had definitely seen better days. A small gasp left your lips when his large hands suddenly grabbed at your hips, engulfing them completely. His touch wasn't gentle. His calloused hands rubbed at your hips harshly, squeezing and pinching your sides resulting in you mewling softly from the tinge of pain. Suddenly, a slap sounded through the room as his thick cock landed on your ass. A low groan escaping him as he slowly rocked himself against you, rubbing his length between your asscheeks.
âDarylâŚ.â You whined, moving your hips back against his cock. His hand made contact with your ass again, the slap echoing through the room as he pulled his cock away from your ass.
âWhaâ did I say?â He drawled lowly, rubbing the area he just smacked, spanking you once more causing you to jolt. âAnswer me.â
You whimpered at the sting, your skin turning a bright red. âNo speaking unless askedâŚâ
He spanked you again on the same buttock, eliciting a moan from you this time. âSee? Ya know the rules so why do ya not listen?â He tutted you, hitting your other buttock. He sighed, placing his thumbs on the folds of your pussy, spreading them and teasing a finger at your entrance. Just circling it around, not entering you. âYer such a bad girl.â
You whined, trying to push back on his fingers, desperate for something to ease the ache in your core. He pulled back once again, slapping your pussy. The action sending a wave of pleasure through your body though it was harsh, a quiet mewl slipping out your mouth. Your arms were slowly getting tired of holding yourself up, moving down to your elbows which made your back arch. He grunted, running a hand down your back and into your hair before suddenly gripping it, pulling you up harshly against his chest. You cried out in pain, his lips against your ear while his fingers remained gripped in your hair. âYer not listening again. I told ya to hold yerself up, so do it.â
He threw you back down, your eyes teary as you placed your hands down again to hold yourself up. His hands found place on your hips again, the rough feel of his palm against your skin made you shiver. One hand left you to grab his cock, teasing it around your clit. âYa wanâ me to fuck ya, donâcha?â He murmured teasingly after hearing your impatient whines. He chuckled, finding your desperation amusing. âThis is whaâ ya wanted, isnâ it?â He slapped the tip of his cock upwards against your clit, your wetness only fueling the sensation further.
âSo fuckinâ wet,â he murmured, circling his tip around your entrance. The longer he teased you, the more you were willing to speak up. You moved back on him, his cock slipping into you slightly before he hissed and pulled out.
âJesus fucking christ can you just fuck me already?â You snapped, earning a spank from him once again. You groaned, already sick of his teasing. âDaryl if you donâtââ
He suddenly shoved his whole length into you, the stretch painful as he started thrusting in and out of you hard. Not giving you any time to adjust to his size, crying out. âIf I donâ? Yer just gonna find someone else to fuck ya?â He growled gruffly, his hips snapping against yours.
Pleasure soon overpowered the pain, a loud moan ripping itself out of you. He groaned in response, squeezing your hips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, making an erotic symphony that heightened the both of your arousals. âNot gonna answer me? Youâd jusâ let anyone fuck ya huh?â He grunted, the tip of his dick hitting closer towards your sweet spot.
You cried out once again, tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline, shaking your head at his question. Your fingers gripped onto the bedsheets below you, your biceps burning which made you just want to drop down onto the bed while he fucked you senseless. His fingers found themselves in your hair again, tugging you upwards so your back was against his chest, growling into your ear.
âWhaâ was thaâ? Youâd let anyone fuck ya, righâ?â He grunted, thrusting up into your sweet spot, eliciting a loud whine out of you. âYer such a filthy slut, ya know thaâ?â He bit at your neck, leaving a mark that was going to be hard to cover.
You clenched around his cock at his words, shaking your head slightly while he tugged your head back further against his shoulder. âNoâŚâ You moaned weakly, the pain from him pulling your hair was even more arousing than you thought. The tears in your eyes spilling over and down your cheeks.
âYeah yer mine⌠This pussy?â He mumbled, reaching down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, your back arching as you cried out in ecstasy. âThis pussy is mine, only mine ya hear me?â He let out a primal growl, tugging your hair once more.
âYes! Yes Daryl only yours!â You cried out pathetically, your walls clamping down on his cock as it moved in and out of you at a punishing speed. He grunted approvingly, releasing his grip on your hair which caused you to fall over, landing straight onto your face into the pillows. His hands then gripping at your ribcage, just under your breasts as he pounded deep into you, hitting that same spot over and over again. âFuck⌠Oh shit, Daryl..â You whined into the pillows, the bed creaking under the movements.
He pulled you up again, his hands still under your breasts while he whispered in your ear. âYa gonna be a good slut for me now?â He grunted lowly, you nodded vigorously as moans continued to escape your mouth. âNo one can fuck you like I can.â And with that he held you just enough to push himself deeper into you, making sure you feel every inch of his cock invading your tight heat.
The small space of your bedroom soon shifted into a safe, intimate haven in which you two created. Full of your moans and his grunts, skin slapping against skin, while the bed rocked under your movements. You felt a familiar feeling building up and you knew you were close, clenching around him as your moans got whinier and breathy.
He groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusting deeper into you. You whined at the feeling, anticipating the soreness youâd feel in the morning. âDarylâŚâ You whined, âIâm gonna cum.â
He growled, pulling you up against his chest again, a hand near your throat while the other moved between your thighs. âYa really think ya deserve to cum?â He groaned, his breathing a little ragged from his own orgasm building up. His fingers moved to play at your clit again, tugging it as he thrusted sloppily into you. âGo on.â
You mewled softly, turning your head to his. He grunted, his lips meeting yours messily. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the depths of it while bringing you both closer to the edge. You bit his lip, earning a whimper from him as your walls clenched around his cock, reaching your climax. His hands jumped up to your breasts while you screamed in ecstasy, pulling your nipples while speeding up his pace.
Your back arched, the pleasure getting overwhelming as he continued to delve deeper, abusing that sweet spot inside of you. âFuck! Daryl too much!â You cried, reaching back and grabbing his hips. But it didnât stop him.
âI told ya, ya arenâ gettinâ out of this easily,â he grunted, his hips maintaining his pace while you felt something else squirt out of you. The slippery liquid slipped out of your pussy, slithering down the base of his cock and onto the bedsheets. A rough moan tearing through your throat before collapsing down onto the bed, feeling him pump his cum into you.
âHoly shit,â he murmured, stilling inside of you as he emptied out inside your cunt. He chuckled, pulling out of you and letting the rest of your body fall onto the now wet sheets. âHavenât seen ya do that before,â he sighed, patting your ass before falling down next to you. âYa got whaâcha wanted?â
You looked at him tiredly, the tears on your face dried, your voice too hoarse to even respond. Settling for a gentle nod and a small, âI win.â He chuckled, shaking his head before leaning back and closing his eyes. He was also extremely exhausted.
You lay there, unable to move and felt his cum slowly drip out of you. It almost felt uncomfortable but you couldnât be bothered to get up and clean yourself, wanting to lay there and sink into the sheets. You sighed contently, scooting closer to him and burying your face into his chest. He grumbled, his arm wrapping itself lazily over your waist. You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the rush of satisfaction. Sure you were going to feel absolute pain once you woke up, and maybe you wouldnât be able to walk or speak for a while. Nevertheless you had finally got yourself fucked rough by a jealous Daryl, who was no longer mad and pushing you away. The issues led up to something amazing for the both of you. Maybe you should get him angry more often.
#divider by cafekitsune#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#norman reedus#daryl x y/n#daryl smut#daryl dixon smut#twd smut#smut with some plot....#mrdixonposts
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Unknown Number
someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!
(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)
italics: y/n (unknown number)
bold: harry
Part Two
Part Three
Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)
Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?
UN: you gave it to me?
UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?
HS: No. You have the wrong number.
UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?
HS: No.
UN: oh my god
UN: i feel like such an idiot
UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number
UN: probably on purpose too
UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful
UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again
(one hour later)
HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.
(twenty minutes later)
UN: it's fine, i guess
UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.
HS: That is quite a dick move.
HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.
UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep
UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea
UN: maybe i should stop texting you
(ten minutes later)
HS: I'm not a creep.
UN: that's exactly what a creep would say
HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.
UN: you said you didn't open it!
HS: I was trying to be polite!
UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes
HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement
UN: you text like an old man
HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???
UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages
HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40
UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa
HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you
UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers
HS: So you're out of high school.
UN: creep!
HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.
UN: you...might be right
UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can
HS: Well that's stupid.
HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...
UN: i'm blocking your number
HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.
UN: h? just the letter h?
HS: You could be a creep too for all I know
UN: fair enough. i'm june
HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.
UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname
HS: June is a nickname?
HS: And I'm not 60.
UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me
HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?
UN: whatever
(thirty minutes later)
HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.
UN: you too h
(three days later)
June (J): you're a guy right?
HS: I'm sorry?
J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea
J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask
J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it
HS: We're back to me being a creep?
J: it's a risk every time i text you
J: so? are you a dude?
HS: Yes.
J: great! can i ask you something?
HS: Um...I guess...
J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?
HS: I'm not following...
J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?
HS: No. Why?
J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder
J: who was not as cute in real life i might add
HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.
J: that is not advice!
HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.
J: ...
J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here
HS: I'm sure.
J: what you don't have the same problem?
HS: I don't really date.
J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?
HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.
J: so no special someone?
HS: No.
(four hours later)
HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?
(one hour later)
J: sorry i was at work
J: and i don't see why not
HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?
J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice
J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want
J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me
J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for
HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.
J: doesn't everyone?
HS: I guess you're right.
HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?
HS: That's not too personal, is it?
J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing
HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra
J: harsh...but fair
J: fashion is kind of my religion
J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying
HS: That's cool!
J: tell that to my family
HS: they don't support you?
J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!
HS: Do you have a favorite designer?
J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked
J: you?
HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.
J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes
HS: House codes?
J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while
(two days later)
HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?
J: i don't think so
J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true
J: it was just a peck
HS: Naughty.
J: it was harmless. why do you ask?
HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.
J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood
HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.
J: that sucks
J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?
HS: ...
J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored
J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?
HS: Easier said than done.
J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?
J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run
HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not
J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you
HS: Well said, June Bug.
J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling
(one month later)
HS: Why June Bug?
J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since
HS: That's sweet.
J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little
HS: Yikes.
J: you're telling me
(three weeks later)
J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?
HS: Have you?
J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?
HS: Edge of Seventeen?
J: edge of seventeen
J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre
HS: You didn't see him again did you?
J: ...
HS: June!
J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands
HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...
J: REALLY nice hands ;)
HS: You disappoint me sometimes.
J: ;))))
(fifteen minutes later)
J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!
HS: ...No comment...
(one week later)
J: you ever been in love, h?
HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?
J: no ://
J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?
J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be
HS: I'm sorry.
HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.
J: aw h you're making me blush!
HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app
J: annnd good feeling gone
(two weeks later)
HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!
J: no fair!
J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period
HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.
J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close
HS: Who?
J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you
HS: Relax. I'm only joking.
HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))
(ten minutes later)
J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow
J: what exactly do you do again?
HS: I told you. I work in the industry.
J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...
HS: Meat packing?
J: you know what i mean!
HS: I do a lot of PR.
J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?
HS: Can I go back to gloating?
J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows
HS: Deal.
(four days later)
HS: Favorite movie?
J: that's hard...
J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada
HS: Good choice.
J: what about you?
HS: The Notebook.
J: really?
HS: Yes. Why?
J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?
HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?
J: no
J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once
HS: Is that a bad thing?
J: let's just say it won't be happening again
J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that
HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling
J: now THAT is something we can agree on!
(six weeks later)
J: BIG NEWS
J: LIKE HUGE
J: GROUNDBREAKING
HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.
J: i texted you yesterday
HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.
J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person
J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!
HS: You said you had news?
J: right!
(twenty minutes later)
HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?
J: no sorry i got a phone call.
J: i got my first real gig as a stylist
HS: That's great! Congratulations!
J: thanks
HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?
J: my mother happened
HS: Still not on board, then?
J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job
HS: You're still gonna take it though right?
J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...
HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.
J: i guess
HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.
J: you're right.
J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford
HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.
J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter
HS: What happened to Bill?
J: ancient history
HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.
J: yeah
J: his girlfriend thought so too.
HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.
J: agreed. what about you? still single?
HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.
J: the horror!
HS: Ha ha
HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.
J: i get that
J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being
HS: I'll be on the lookout.
(three weeks later)
J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me
HS: oh?
J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks
HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?
J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me
HS: are your clients nice at least?
J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me
HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?
J: not sure. i haven't dated one before
J: i told you that the other day
HS: right. must've slipped my mind
HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?
HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl
J: who is this?
HS: what do you mean? it's me
J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass
HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself
HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.
J: oh my god
HS: What?
J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT
J: was this some kind of prank?
J: whoever you are, you're sick
J: don't text me again
HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.
HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.
HS: June?
HS: June please.
HS: That wasn't me I swear!
HS: I'm sorry.
(three weeks later)
HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.
HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.
HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...
HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.
J is typing...
HS: June?
J: i should've blocked you
HS: Why didn't you?
J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend
HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.
J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?
HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.
HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way
J: i guess that's true
J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.
J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous
HS is typing...
HS: I could send you a voice note.
J: you would do that?
HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.
J: a friend you say?
HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day
J: and what about tomorrow?
HS is typing...
HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.
(one day later)
Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.
It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.
And after hearing his deep voiceâdeep British voiceâon the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.
Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.
One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.
Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.
Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.
Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.
Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.
Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.
Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.
"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.
"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."
"What? Big date tonight?"
"Something like that."
Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.
"Holy shit."
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVAâźď¸đłđĽđłđĽ IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY
could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin đ¤Żđ¤Żđ¤đ
love you and your writing đ
thanks for keeping us fed đ
carmen berzatto x reader
okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.
Inked Devotion
this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!
word count: 1.7k
things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you
Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.Â
When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmenâs body you hadnât anticipated to actually go through with it.Â
And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.
You canât though, you donât hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.Â
âHey, you still with me darlinâ' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.
Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it werenât for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?
âSorry, uh, what did you say?âÂ
âItâll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bedâ Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.
It wasnât the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.Â
It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.
âMany people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.â
You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monicaâs words
âYou still want this right?â Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod
âItâs all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-âÂ
âNo, no I want thisâ You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, âBesides we already designed the stencil and everythingâ Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.
âDamn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yetâ Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.
âAlright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some thingsâÂ
You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.Â
It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.
The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monicaâs tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.
âAlright Doll, Iâm just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?â Monica says.
All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carmâs dishes.
Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.Â
You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.
âHey, baby, hey what is itâ Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.
âAwe doll, you donât like the design? Iâll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at allâ Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern
âNo no, Iâm fineâ You squeezed Carmen âItâs so, it's beautiful Monicaâ You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.
âThank youâ You whispered to her as she shushed you.
âAt least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less nowâ She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.
âAh shitâ You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.
Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.Â
Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,
âSee, ain't too badâ Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.
It took some time, you wonât lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.Â
You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.
âGod, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and pokeâ Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.
âIt..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with thisâ You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.
âIâm glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckinâ gorgeousâ Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.
âHey, I'll report you to HRâ Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.
âItâs my business, I am HRâ Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.
Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.Â
Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.
âMy gorgeous ink stained sweetheartâ Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.
âThank you too, you knowâ You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.
âWouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up againâ You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.
âWould have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quickerâ Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.
âHey, itâs true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and Iâd still have the memory of you under my skin memorisedâ Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.Â
You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.
And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.
He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.
tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale
#neonovember#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x fem reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmy#the bear#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy the bear#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x black!reader#neo writes#carmen berzatto masterlist#off the goddamn hiatus#bear with me whilst i get through the carmen requests#hozier#hozier just cause#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto masterlist
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I donât even know but for the love of god PLEASE more age gap/ dads best friend trope with Joel Miller đĽľ
I got not one, not two, but THREE requests with age gap reader x Joel Miller, so here we go, this one's for you babes đ
Not enough || Joel Miller x f!reader**
summary: Joel is not happy when your recklessness nearly puts your lives in danger.
word count: 1.8k
WARNINGS: age gap (Joel is in his 40s, reader is like late 20s), unprotected doggy, cum play, choking, enemies to fwb.
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
gif: @azertyrobaz
Oh, heâs pissed. Heâs pissed, alright. You can tell in the way heâs pacing around the room, hands on his hips, brows furrowed in sheer anger. Your negligence has been more than an inconvenience today; it couldâve risked a lot of peopleâs lives, including your own and Joelâs.
And Joel is not a man you wanna fuck around with.
Well. Not technically.
You just so happen to be in the same shift for the night watch, thatâs all. And he just so happens to be Tommyâs brother, so you know from a solid source that heâs got a temper. Inexplicably enough, you find yourself gravitating around him quite often, and not just because duty calls. Heâs got an attitude too, which makes him annoying more than anything. He makes your blood boil, makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.
And yet, your eyes search for him in a crowd, eager to spot that bitter face youâve grown to detest.
Usually, your disagreements are easily solved: he grunts, you mumble, both of you cuss out loud, maybe yell a little, and call it a truce. In many ways, he doesnât think of you as equal, you believe; why should he? Heâs a skilled hunter, gunsman, and youâre just some gal in her twenties, doing your duty towards Tommy and the people in Jackson.
But today, youâve really done it. You know it; you just refuse to give Joel the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
He told you to wait for the group to return, then you can go check for clickers. You told him for hours on end that youâve heard about clickers in the area, and yet Joel refused to believe you. âTill I see it with my own eyes, there ainât nothing out there,â he said. âNo reason to worry everyoneâ. But the group took too long, and youâve grown more and more impatient, so you sneaked out the perimeter and went to check for yourself. Surely enough, your instinct and sources have been correct, and there you were, face to face with at least a dozen clickers. Just you and your shotgun against them all.
âAre you really this stupid?â
His question makes your forehead crease with anger as well.
âWell?â he pushes. âAre you?â
âI am far more capable than what you give me credit for.â
Joel snarls, the sound mocking in and of itself, and, weirdly enough or not, you relish into it. Thereâs something primal behind it, something that suggests care, and that has your undivided attention.
âYou couldâve been killed,â he says. âThose fuckers couldâve come in here, have their way with us. All because of you.â
âWhat the fuck do you want me to say, Joel?! You wanna hear me beg for your forgiveness? Want me to beg, on my knees?â
He gulps. You see it, itâs undeniable. Itâs not quite the reaction you had in mind, so it takes you aback for a moment.
Joel inches closer towards you, his face reading the same anger as before, eyes darkened by some emotion you couldnât name at this very moment.
âDo you?â you boldly repeat.
âYouâre on mighty thin ice here,â he warns, voice husky and intense. âDonât push me.â
âOr what?â
Joel stares at you, half incredulously and half impressed. Heâs always been impressed by your candor and your boldness, your uncanny ability to just face danger without a second thought and come to the othersâ defense.
But today, less so. The thought of you getting infected, getting hurt in any way⌠heâd hate you forever if that were the case. Heâd hate himself for it, too.
âYou donât know what youâre asking for here,â Joel seems to warn.
But you cock an eyebrow, causing him to gulp again and question his every moral, and every portion of his sanity.
âGive me some credit here, Joel,â you say in a ridiculously sultry voice. âI think I know what Iâm looking for. If only youâd stop treating me like some kind ofââ
Your words are cut abruptly by the harsh press of his mouth against yours in a surprisingly hot and needy kiss. On the one hand, youâre thankful he acted before he mightâve asked you to beg for it, like you cheekily said. Youâre somewhat embarrassed that such a thing was insinuated, let alone acting upon it. The two of you do not get along, after all. He might actually hate you, simple as that.
But this right here, his calloused hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel your skin and his mouth clamping on yours, this is anything but easy. The amber light breaking through the window as the sun is setting allows you a final clear glimpse of what is happening, and your body shivers at the sight: Joel is hastily undressing you first, as if heâs in some sort of race to see you naked before you see him. You realize that yes, you do want to see him, all of him, just the way that he is, and feel him in this inappropriate moment.
Itâs obvious itâs been a long time for both of you; all of the sloppy and rushed movements, getting right to it, suggest a desperation that can hardly be verbalized. Your hands drop to the hem of his shirt, tearing off some of the buttons that keep whatâs underneath concealed. You take but a rushed moment to admire the scars covering his chest and belly, as well as the chest hair that youâd love nothing more but nuzzle in. nothing but a stolen moment, though. You wouldnât want to ruin this moment with anything.
Your hands drop to his jeans, removing his belt and watching him shimmy his way out of them. Your eyes widen in surprise when you brush against him, feeling him rock hard in his boxers.
âTurn around,â he commands, and you obey.
You find yourself bent over the couch in his living room, a strong hand keeping you in place. Anticipation is killing you, the perverted thoughts soaking your mind and pussy alike. itâs ridiculous, really; how the fuck are you soaked when all youâve done so far is argue with him? Him, Joel Miller, of all people. It feels wrong and forbidden in some way, but at the same time, it feels exactly right. Like this is what youâve been missing all this time. Him, his arms, his eyes and mouth devouring you alike, and his cock slipping inside you.
Which is precisely what he does.
You canât possibly control or prevent the wanton cry that comes out of your mouth when you feel his cock sliding inside of you. He pushes with ease, and in any other case it wouldâve been alarming to acknowledge how soaked you are, but now, it feels oddly understandable.
âFuck, youâre soaked,â you hear him grunt. âHave you been wanting me to fuck you like this for too long, sweetheart?â
Motherfâ
Again you moan when he pushes so far deep inside you, you think youâre gonna black out.
âAnswer me,â he grunts.
âScrew you, Miller,â you smile.
He chuckles, because of course he does. âIsnât it the other way around now?â
He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as hard as he can, and he drags his cock all the way out just to push back inside, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then, he just starts slamming his hips into yours, deeming that heâd given you enough time to adjust and all that. After all, this is rushed, needy, and far too agonizing to prolong. It doesnât mean anything. Why should it?
Fuck, you wanna see him right now. You wanna see the crease on his forehead that betrays his intense concentration, the way a few locks of hair fall down and the way heâs working up a sweat just by staring at your ass brushing up against his cock with each additional thrust. All you can do is moan brokenly as your body is being used as leverage for him to propel himself into, but hell, you could not possibly complain.
Neither of you says much except the occasional cuss word or grunt. Those are the only sounds filling the dead air. Itâs hard to focus on actually doing what youâre doing and saying something. Maybe you donât need to; adding words to this already complicated situation would only make it more meaningful when itâs just about blowing off some steam.
Although you cannot ignore the waves of pleasure that rip through you when Joelâs hand curls around you from the very same position heâs fucking you. A cry leaves your throat, currently held by one of his calloused hands, and Joel smiles in some delirious ecstasy.
âThatâs right,â he teases, almost breathless. âThis is all you neededâisnât it?â
If you couldnât speak before, you certainly canât now. Joel doesnât tell you how good it feels to feel you this way. He doesnât tell you how feral it makes him to have your body at his will, to fuck you this hard and fast from behind like youâre running out of time.
Maybe you are, maybe you arenât. All he knows is that the buildup in his belly is gonna erupt soon, but he needs to feel you first.
âCâmon, sweetheart,â he says, leaning over and squeezing your throat just a little more. âMake it a good one for me, hm? How âbout that?â
Itâs like he presses an automatic switch as he says that; within the next few seconds, you clamp down all around him, your body seizing up and soaking his cock with your juices as you reach the throes of ecstasy.
âJ-Joelââyou finally manage to get out.
He fucks you through your climax, only to pull out as abruptly as he entered you, stroking himself to completion right on your ass. Breathless, he can only stare at the hot, messy canvas heâd painted on your body. The image triggers something inside of him, something deep and primal, urging him for more.
But he canât. He shouldnât. There are about a dozen reasons why he shouldnât, and yet, he just did.
A final smack over your ass lets you know that the exchange of bodily fluids and pleasure has come to an end. When your eyes lock, he doesnât say a word to you, and neither do you. Instead, he grabs a towel to clean you gently with, a stark contrast between the feral man from mere moments ago and the current one.
âDonât make me care about you,â he warns.
âWasnât planning on it,â you say, highly doubting that sentence.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut
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I saw you did a similar request as my last one so you can let that one slide if you wish !!
I also had this idea of how Tom would react to his s/o (preferably another artist) getting super mad at the paparazzi
(hello! Sorry if this is bad, I wrote it in the car lmao. But, enjoy!)
Give Them a Headline
Tom hadn't been with you when you went off on them
It was usually Bill with you the few times you did
The first was when you guys had just started getting popular
You guys were kids
Who had just finished a set late at night and needed sleep
And paparazzi would not stop bothering you and Bill
One even tried grabbing Bill
It was a pretty young woman who grabbed him and shoved a mic and camera in his face
Bill couldn't even talk and was blinded as everyone crowded you guys
Security was trying to get them away but could only do so much
So you took it in your hands to clock the bitch and her camera
Bill was happy you helped him but was shocked
Tom only heard about it because it ended up in tabloids across the web
Other times you yelled at paparazzi
As you got older and it kept happening, people thought you were rude and aggresive
But others understood you guys were kids and needed privacy
Tom didn't think about what would happen if he was ever there with you when hat happened
Until it actually did happen
"Oh my fucking, god. Move!" You yelled out the window to the paparazzi, getting a laugh out of Tom as you guys tried getting home.
"Relax, we'll get out soon enough." Tom tried to reassure you, his hand in your thigh as you scoffed at the people with cameras.
"It's dumb, they got their pictures, we're trying to get to her hotel." You explained, barely giving him a glance before a camera man jumped in front of the car, almost on the hood.
"Are you kidding me?" Tom scoffed at him before he was shoved aside as you laid your hand on the horn, and hard.
The man jumped off the hood out of shock as you flipped him off.
"You're gonna end up in another tabloid." Tom said, amused and understanding about your actions.
"I don't give a shit, I want to sleep." You sighed, rubbing your temple as Tom sighed, squeezing your thigh for comfort as he tried to maneuver out of the maze of people.
It didn't seem to stop, camera men and women with mics all kept following the car. Even fans from the concert yelled and followed the car.
"Go, go, go!" You yelled, pointing to an opening as Tom tried to floor it.
"Seriously?!" You yelled again when they blocked that exit, again.
"Go away!" You yelled at the window as they came up to your guy's windows, shoving cameras as they flashed into the cracks.
You could barely see, shielding your eyes with your hand.
"(Name)! Tom! Just a few questions!" A woman yelled, somehow getting her mic through the slit in the window.
"Oh, fuck this." You muttered, Tom was barely able to look and see as you grabbed the car door handle and shoved the door open.
"(Name)! Get back in!" Tom yelled as he saw you use the door to shove the woman back, getting out effectively and yelling at her.
Tom couldn't hear the obscenities, but he could tell what they were from the looks on the others' faces.
"Shit, shitâŚ" Tom muttered, getting out to follow quickly as he moved to your side of the car to get you back in.
"Get the fuck out of our way! Don't you have anything better to do than harass people half your age?!"
You yelled at the adults, covering their cameras and throwing the mics they shoved in your face away from you.
"Yo! Get in the car." Tom tried to get you back in the car, not that he wasn't enjoying it, he just didn't feel like dealing with angry internet trolls.
"Get this shit out of my face!" You grabbed a camera, one that a man got too close to you, throwing it and yelling at the guy.
"(Name)!" Tom laughed, it slipped out as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist, using the other to open the car door.
"Get in." Tom said, still laughing before he stopped as you grabbed a cup from the cup holder and threw it at the woman who shoved the mic in the window.
"What the hell, kid?!" The woman yelled, now doused in sticky soda.
"Get a fucking life!" You yelled as Tom now used both of his arms to get you in the car, closing the door quickly and going back to the driver side.
He got in the best he could without hitting people out of his way, slipping in the seat fast enough to see you flipping off paparazzi.
You honked the horn loudly as Tom drove, effectively scaring them out of the way not to be fun over.
It wasn't long before you guys got out of there, you breathed heavily as Tom drove.
Tom then couldn't help the laugh that slipped out, getting your attention.
"What?" You snapped, more annoyed at the paparazzi than him.
"You're a piece of work." Tom joked, his laugh now getting a little one out of you.
"They're tiring, I wanna go to the hotel and sleep." You explained, settling into the seat.
"Maybe you should do that more often. Her face was hilarious." Tom nodded, a smirk on his face as he leaned over to kiss your neck lightly.
You smiled, kissing his cheek when he pulled back before settling back in, his hand back on your thigh.
"Might as well give them the fucking headline."
#tokio hotel imagine#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel#tom kualitz x reader#tom kaulitz imagines#tom kaulitz#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz imagines#bill kaulitz#reader insert
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PLEASE QUEEN, I need answers, in your post talking about some wip's that you were thinking about, I saw "shark", I hope I'm not hallucinating, but please, can you tell me a little about it??đđđ
Omg yes! I'm so happy you asked about this one! The shark au is something me and @lilliumteaandbeez came up with. We have a ton of lore we came up with together, though I don't have much written for it. I believe I wrote this in February, and it isn't much but I'll share what I have!
More about Sharktaro though, he is also a siren! So, for the people that have been asking me for a siren au, this is the start of it.*ｼâĄ
â§:ｼďžâ My WIP's
đşđđđđ!đŽđđđđđđ đ đšđđđ
đđ
Your motion sensored camera got activated last night.
Thatâs why you find yourself trudging through a light rain shower, stepping through heaps of wet sand and over slippery rocks.Â
The camera had been set up in an alcove seated on the beach. A small cave sits on the edge of the ocean, with a deep pool of water seated in the middle of it. But deeper into the cave, the water becomes more shallow, and there is a rocky ledge circling the edge of the water, perfect for you to set up your camera to observe the unusual alcove.
It was for research of course. As a marine biologist you are always searching for unique phenomena. With this particular experiment, you were hoping to catch seals using this alcove as a shelter when hiding from circling sharks. But instead you were notified in the middle of the night by a strange photo being captured.
You couldnât quite make out what it was. It was blurry and dark. The creature looked long like a seal but it almost appeared as though it had sharp claws. Having no idea what it could be, you are filled with anxiety and curiosity as you arrive at the cave.
Sounds of distant thunder echo in the distance.
You turn the corner and step into the darkness. The approaching storm blocking any sunlight that may have illuminated your path.
Flickering on your flashlight, you point it towards the shallow end of the cave.
Before you lies a humanoid figure. Laying on its side, back facing towards you.
The bottom half of its body resembles a shark. A long blue-green tail littered with dark spots. The spots cover his entire body, even the upper half which resembles a human man. The creature has a large fin on its back and pointed ears. Its body looks emaciated, ribs moving with each shallow breath that he takes. And a mess of black and green hair sits atop his head.
The water surrounding his body is bloody, and his tail seems to have gotten tangled in a net.
âOh my godâŚâ you gasp under your breath. The small sound is enough to startle the creature, quickly turning around, staring right at you.
His eyes glow yellow, slit pupils dilate from the bright light. He opens his mouth to show rows of dagger sharp teeth.
A high pitched, rattling screech echos from his mouth. Hissing at you with every ounce of energy he has left, you know this is a warning. But you canât stop yourself from walking closer to him, you want to help him. Itâs in your nature to help and rehabilitate injured marine life, and a mythical merman is no exception.
As you get closer he starts to panic. Flailing his tail, showing his teeth, hissing loudly. He tries to get away but he is too tangled up. It doesnât take long before more blood spills out of him, and he canât muster enough energy to continue.
His eyes get heavy and his breathing becomes more shallow but his hissing persists as you stand a few feet in front of him.
âI-Itâs ok,â you mutter, taking a few steps closer to him, âIâm going to try to help you.â
Throwing your backpack to the ground, you take a seat in front of him, rummaging through your bag to find any supplies that may be able to help this poor creature. You always make sure to come prepared, because out in the field accidents happen all of the time. So luckily you have an emergency medkit. Itâs meant for humans but you are sure it will do the trick for the time being.
When you reach out to him he snaps at you, almost biting your arm.
âHey! Iâm trying to help you! I know you are scared, but I promise I wonât hurt you.â
You can see the hurt and fear in his eyes when he looks at you. He has no idea that you are trying to help him. But the blood spilling from his wounds is too much and he loses the ability to care. He knows that he will die soon, so he stops fighting you.
The largest wound is on his tail, near his hip. Itâs a deep laceration of some kind.Â
Cutting part of the net, to give you enough room to tend to his wound. You decide that stopping the bleeding is more important, and you will work on untangling him afterwards.
There is no time to waste so you hurry and disinfect the area and prep your needle. With trembling hands you begin to suture the large wound, resulting in a low, painful whimper coming from him.
âI know it hurts, but I have to do this or you will bleed out,â you console him but donât stop stitching him up.
The skin on his tail is thick and tough, taking a lot of effort to get the needle to go through. But after lots of struggling, you manage to get the wound sutured. Taking some gauze and holding it to the wound to soak up some of the blood.
Scanning over the rest of his body, he has lots of smaller lacerations. They look like claw marks. But you canât think of any sea creature that would have claws like thatâŚ
Once the bleeding mostly stops on the larger wound, you go to care for the other wounds. Disinfecting, covering with bandages, and suturing a few that are particularly deep. You run out of gauze pretty quickly, as he has many wounds and the moisture of his skin combined with the humidity in the air quickly dampens them.
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lost dogs and chance meetings
pairing chris evans x reader
reblogs appreciated if you liked it :)
âââââââ-
Your family had decided to take a trip to New York, you had been a few times before as your parents had friends there. At the time you were young and blissfully unaware of the celebrity world, it was different now, people were always running into celebrities on the streets in the US. New York is home to many, as well as a hotstpot for work in the industry. You didnât luck out however, but your trip in the US wasnât over just yet.
Your family had decided to take a trip up to Massachusetts, to stay in a log cabin for the weekend. Being the huge Chris Evans fan that you are you insisted they stop to look around Boston, not only because you loved visiting new places, but a small part of you hoped youâd run into the Bostonian man himself.
You stopped at a restaurant for some lunch after driving up to Boston, Not too long of a drive but enough to make you hungry, you felt a bit carsick after the journey so announced you were just popping out for some air, âWonât be too longâ you stated. you decided on a short walk to calm down the nausea you felt.
You stood there wide eyed, the hound was staring you down as you looked at him perplexed. Surely not. Thereâs no way Dodger Evans was standing on the pavement across from you. It looked like him, you decided to go up to him seeing as this possible Dodger lookalike seemed friendly, Dodger or not their owner mustâve been frantic about their puppyâs whereabouts. The tag read âDodgerâ and your eyes shot up wide âOH MY GOD.â your inner voice spoke, you flipped the tag over and surely enough there was a phone number, Chris Evansâ phone number. You took out your phone with trembling hands.
Writing out the message, âHello, is this Dodgers owner? I found him wondering by himself and I have a feeling heâs lostâ you sent it.
âCould you send me a photo of him? possibly with you, so i know this isnât a scam.â
An odd request, but considering his status a valid one.
you took a photo of Dodger, half your face in it, of course you wanted Chris to know he was safe. You sent it with a message reading âHe looks completely fine! no sign of injury or anything, just missing his dad I think.â you sent it not thinking and then it occurred to you âdadâ, heâs going to know you know who he is.
His body relaxed. Chris had taken Dodger to the park and got too distracted in conversing with an old friend to notice Dodger had got out. As soon as he did though, his chest felt tight and breathing heavy. Who knows how long Dodger had been wondering for, or if he had been picked up. He began searching, texting Scott and his sisters, to let them know. Soon enough there was a search party for Dodger.
Chrisâs phone pinged. The text read âHello, is this Dodgers owner? I found him wondering by himself and I have a feeling heâs lostâ his body instantly relaxed, until it didnât. This could be a scam, someone has somehow found Dodger and known who he belonged to theyâve taken the number from the tag and continued on. âCould you send me a photo of him? possibly with you, so i know this isnât a scam.â without hesitation he responded. He needed to know Dodger was okay and whoever this was had his best interest at heart. The person had responded within seconds.
A sigh of relief escaped his mouth, Dodger is okay. His rescuer was.. beautiful.
âThank you, could you send me your location? want to reunite with my boy ASAPâ
You sent your location and a message to put his mind at ease, âIâve given him some water from my bottle, poor guy was thirsty, weâre in the shade waiting nowâ
That made him feel better, you obviously cared about animals, and definitely had Dodgers best interest at heart. You were only a few blocks from him so he jogged, within a few minutes he saw Dodger and you at the end of the street at a bus stop.
You tried your best to keep your cool. Yes you were a fan, but you found his dog. You saw him in the distance running down the street and anxiety struck you, you pushed it aside.
Dodger instantly recognised his dad and ran into his arms as Chris knelt down to greet him, âHi bubba! donât ever do that again.â your heart melted at the greeting, you know if it was your own dog back home you would be a complete mess. After a good long reunion Chris looked up at you.
âHi, Thank you, Thank you. You wouldnât believe how worried I was when I noticed heâd got out of the parkâ he spoke, out of breath, considering he had just run 5 blocks. You stood there for a second, trying to compose a calm and collected response so as to not freak him out. âOf course! I have a dog back home and would hope someone would do the same thing if he got outâ He smiled at your sympathising.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans fic#chris evans fluff#chris evans x you#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x gn!reader#writerblr#avengers#marvel#marvel actors
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As Cold As Death (Part 1)
Part 1|2|
Summary:
You've had always lived what felt like a half-life, died more times than you could count. Astarion was a vampire spawn who had been "living" in the shadow of his master. But things change for the both of you when you're abducted by Mindflayers and implanted with tadpoles. With a Cleric of Shar; a Githyanki Warrior; an Escaped Solider for Zariel; the Blade of Frontiers; a Former Chosen of Mystra; the Corpse of a Scribe and the Pale Elf, you venture forth towards Baldur's Gate in the hopes of finding a cure. Where the shadow over Astarion is darkest and the Dead Three 's chosen lurk along the way.
Genre: Romance, Slowburn
Pairing: Astarion/Necromancer GN!Reader (Tav)
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, blood drinking, manipulation. More to be added as the fic goes on. Please let me know if there's any I missed.
Word Count: 4.9k
Note: This has been cross-posted to AO3 and can be seen as a prequel to 'Predators and Prey'. No beta, we die like bing bong.
It had been a long and arduous day of exploring and bloody battle. Your grim harvest had done little to assuage the pain emanating from your strained heart. Of all the people to get infected with one of those gods damned parasites it just had to be you. Though at least you weren't alone in this - you had formed a little group with others in your predicament just a few days ago.
You were a ragtag group, some of these people you wouldn't have found yourself associating with if the circumstances weren't so dire. This included the pale elf in your group. Your magic thrummed in his presence, he was of the dead. A vampire. Though he was trying oh so hard to hide that, just not well. The fact that you could clearly see the bite mark on his neck really showed how half-arsed his attempts were. However, you figured that not having a reflection made it hard to know he had successfully covered them.
In fact, when you had awoken in the night to his attempt to feed on you, you just laughed.
âYou won't get much from me if you're peckish. I'm not that nutritional and my circulation is horrid at best.â You lounged back on your elbows, peering up at him.
He stood there, arms crossed in dissatisfaction, âWhat? No shock? No horror? That would at least be some fun to see.â
âYou thought you had fooled a necromancer? 'Star, you radiate undeath. You're paler than me and my pallor has been called deathly â not a perk of my school by the way.â
âHmmm, you did strike me as rather sickly looking.â
âAnd so you thought I'd make a good snack?â You raised a quizzical eyebrow.
âLook, I'm feeling weak, anyone would do.â
âYour words wound me.â You feigned insult, putting your hand over your heart.
ââŚYou're vexing.â
You took a moment to contemplate the pros and cons of letting him feed from you. The other party members were likely to react negatively to his vampirism and you'd rather not risk him being staked or incinerated. That man's face flashed through your mind unwarranted and gave you the last push you needed.
You huffed a sigh, âIf you're truly that weak, I guess I can oblige you. But don't take too much.â
He startled, âReally? I â Of course. Not one drop more. Shall we get comfortable?â
You laid back on your bedroll with a sense of trepidation pooling in your stomach but watched silently as the elf dropped to his knees. He cradled you in his hands and for a moment you wondered if others found his touch to be cold like yours. The thought was interrupted by the sting of his fangs piercing the delicate skin of your neck, like shards of ice. However, after a few moments passed, the familiar feeling of your life being drained away crept in.
You felt it in your fingers first, as your body started prioritising your vital organs over your extremities â the numbness slithering down from the tips of your fingers into your elbows as you fist his shirt, trying to hold on to consciousness. Next, it was your feet. They began to feel like solid ice blocks, you couldn't even wiggle your toes. Your heart began to struggle as your blood pressure dropped, if it weren't for his cradling you, your head would surely be lulling.
âA-AstaâŚrion. S-stop. That's⌠enough.â You tugged at his shirt.
By the grace of the gods, he had heard you, quickly releasing you from his maw. You were surprised to see his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes widen.
âShit, shit, shit. You're going blue! You-â
His voice was lost to you as the all too familiar sensation of death's grip took you. Your face scrunched up in agony until suddenly, pleasantly, you were embraced by nothingness.
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You awoke with a gasp, your heart stuttering back to life. Gods you hated when that happened. How long were you gone for this time? Your eyes flickered open and you were greeted by the sight of Astarion pacing back and forth. He was mumbling to himself but you couldn't make out what he was saying. You rolled to your side with a groan and he finally looked at you.
âYou're alive! But you died! Your heart stopped-â
âShhh. Wake up the whole camp why don't you?â You shakily pushed yourself up into a sitting position. âNot like this is my first dance with death. Lucky for me it's always cut short.â You laughed dryly.
Astarion's brows pinched together as he joined you on the forest floor, âHere I was weighing up the pros and cons of paying that skeleton to revive you, only to find out I wasn't even your first. Is that why he knew you? Dying a common occurrence for you?â
âMore than I'd care to admit. My first death was when I was just a babe. Just dropped dead right in front of my mother. I don't remember it but she certainly does. I've been taken to see numerous clerics and healers, all of whom have been stumped. My affliction is no curse, nor is it ill health. It is simply a part of my being. Like my connection to life is weak but strong enough to keep me out of death's embrace permanently. As for Withers, I don't remember meeting the undead scribe prior to our encounter in the crypt.â
Your brows furrowed as you puzzled over the cryptic nature of the now-resident corpse. He was all riddles. There was a moment of silence as Astarion seemed to contemplate his words, âDying is a wretched experience. I would pay any cost not to go through it again. You and I⌠we're more alike than I thought.â
âTell me about it. All my life I have been compared to vampires. From my pale complexion, my sensitivity to sunlight and a touch my mother said was as cold as death. Only difference between us is that I can't drink blood for nutrients and mirrors are almost useless for you.â
Another moment of silence and then Astarion was up and riffling through the camp supplies, producing a bottle of wine you had recently found. He then grabbed two goblets from his tent.
âI propose a drink to our newly realised mutual understanding and perhaps, an arrangement?â
He poured a glass and offered it to you.
âWhat would this arrangement be exactly?â You asked before taking a sip.
Astarion swirled the vintage in his goblet, "Let me feed from you, I won't take much, just enough to give me the energy to find something more⌠filling. In return, perhaps I can help that pretty little heart of yours keep beating. To be honest, you're useful to me and I need you alive. If you need me to shepherd enemies closer to you so you can sap their life force to fuel your own, who am I to judge?"
You took a moment to consider it, "Well, in that case, feel free to sink your teeth into those we battle."
"I like how you think, after all, they're just as dead." He gave you a charming smile, a flash of fang, before downing his drink, "Now forgive me, as invigorating as you were, I need something more satisfying and you could use the beauty sleep, you look paler than my arm." With that, Astarion stood back up and started stalking towards the forest but he paused and looked over his shoulder at you, "This is a gift you know, I won't forget it."
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The next morning, the rest of your adventuring party were quick to cotton onto the truth of Astarion's nature, probably something to do with the fresh puncture wounds on your neck and the scars on his that mirrored them. Vague threats were made towards him but you were quick to reassure them that it was a) consensual and b) he wouldn't be seeking out any of their necks. You were a tad surprised to see Astarion grab a portion of the morning meal when he didn't need to eat or keep pretending.
You were even more surprised when he unceremoniously handed it to you with a playful jab of: "We need to get you healthier if you're going to be making oh-so-generous donations to myself. You're eating for two now, pup."
"When can I next expect you to come for a nibble?"
"My sweet, there is nothing I'd like more." He placed his hand over his breast in a little half bow, "I'll come to you tonight, when you're snugly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time I'll make sure I'm quiet - we don't want to disturb your rest. You need it more than I do after all. Later on, when we are settled for the day, I'll eat you right up. Just enough to give me strength, and just enough to leave you wishing for more. But, of course, I'll keep your delicate constitution in mind."
You couldn't hold his gaze, unused to such flippant flirtation, so you just shovelled down what you were sure was a lovely breakfast if you weren't too distracted to taste it.
It continued with every meal for the following days, you felt so full, fit to burst. Astarion did visit you most nights. Sometimes you slept blissfully unaware, and on others where sleep could not find you, you had idle conversation in the lead-up to his meal. You were surprised by his confession that you were his first thinking being. The way he talked to Shadowheart about sweet vs savoury hearts and his comment on liking spicy food when Lae'zel threatened him had you thinking he had been feeding like this since the start of his undeath. You felt oddly flattered, almost like it was a privilege to have been the camp member randomly chosen for his first proper taste of living.
As promised, Astarion found ways to lead foes into range of your spells so your grim harvest could be reaped. If there was still life in them afterwards, he always took the opportunity to have a bite to eat. You made quite the duo while the others could focus on the heavy hitters that you did not have the strength to face. This was an especially useful tactic when clearing out the goblin camp. Because although there was the option just to quietly take out their leaders, you hadn't the patience for sneaking about or scheming to get them alone. However, Halsin's complaining when you wanted to go to camp to rest up was getting on your last nerve. You had been up for days with no reprieve. You had run out of spell slots so you could reap no more souls to fuel you. It was all too stressful and you could tell that if you didn't rest soon, everyone would get to witness your lifeless corpse briefly. Frankly, it had upset you that it even happened in front of Astarion. Eventually, you put your foot down and hurried to your tent to rest in privacy.
It wasn't long before that privacy was interrupted. You heard Astarion clear his throat.
"Enter," you called weakly. Gods you hated feeling like this. It took all your energy just to sit up.
He was frowning as he pushed aside the tent curtain and stepped in, "Your heart, I can hear its stuttering. Is there anything that can be done to⌠steady it?"
You laughed dryly, "If there was anything I could do, I would be doing it right now. I just need rest, so please let me."
He didn't leave, instead, he sat himself down beside you, "Perhaps some food might help? Gale is making a stew. He seemed rather concerned, said you're paler than usual. Which is true, though you're not quite blue in the lips like last time. Shadowheart wanted to check you over for any wounds but I assured her I couldn't smell any bleeding."
You were touched that your party members showed you such concern, you actually managed to smile. It had been years since you felt so cared for.
"Stew does sound nice but sadly I don't have much of an appetite at this time. So no extra portion."
Astarion stood back up and seemed to hesitate for a moment, "Would you like me to inform them of your condition? It might help if you had extra eyes on you."
"I don't want to be a distraction. Just⌠just tell them I have a weak constitution. That should do."
He nodded his understanding then ducked out. You led back down and strained to hear what was going on outside.
"So? How are they? What's going on?" That was Karlach, there was genuine worry in her voice.
"Tav is fine. They just need rest and a good meal. Apparently, they've been frail since birth."
There was a disgruntled huff, "And you've known this the whole time. Is that why you've been hovering around them like a gnat?" Gale said accusatorially. You could imagine him possibly poking the vampire in the shoulder.
"That's true. I found out rather accidentally and they chose to confide in me. They didn't tell you because they thought you would've forgotten our mission and fawned over them like they were a sickly child." He was agitated.
"My my, I didn't take you for the doting type Astarion. Colour me surprised, you actually care about the well-being of your personal blood bank." You couldn't tell if Shadowheart was joking or not.
"Look as much I love idle chit-chat and gossip, Tav would really like a bowl of stew and that's what I came to get. So I'll just say this, when they've recovered from this little episode, do not crowd them. Stress sets it off."
There was silence and shuffling after that. It wasn't long before Astarion returned with a steaming bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. You tried to sit up again but your arms gave out causing you to fall back with a thud and a groan. Astarion sighed, set the stew down beside you and did something you had not expected.
He slid behind you and lifted you to rest against his chest. It felt oddly⌠intimate. Sure you had sat in a similar position when he fed while you were awake - but there was an understanding that the closeness was necessary. Was this necessary?
"Please tell me I don't have to feed you." He huffed.
You took a second to collect yourself and tried to will away what little heat filled your cheeks, "N-no I can do it. But uh⌠you didn't have to do all this. Thank you."
"I'm just simply keeping up my end of our little arrangement."
"Even though I won't be able to hold up my end until I'm stable?"
"The way I see it, the sooner you're back on your feet, the sooner we can carry on as normal." He placed the bowl on your lap and passed you the spoon. "Now eat up."
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You got about halfway through your meal before you found yourself drifting off into an oddly peaceful slumber, slumped against the vampire. When you awoke the next morning he was no longer in your tent. You donned your robes and joined the others outside. You sat by the fire and Wyll passed you a portion of porridge.
"How are you feeling? Fighting fit I hope."
You gave him a smile, "I'm feeling right as rain today."
Lae'zel made a noise across from you, "If you are so weak that you are useless to us, it would be easier if I put you out of your misery."
Shadowheart glared at her, "Ignore the gith. We'd all be scattered to the winds trying to solve this by ourselves if it weren't for you. Now that we're all aware of your⌠limitations we can plan accordingly."
"I agree, perhaps Wyll and I can stay beside you while the others take the battle to our foes," Gale suggested, settling beside you.
You started zoning out as everyone except Astarion talked battle tactics. No, you had focused on him, he was standing off to the side staring at you intently. You could almost see cogs turning in his head. You were snapped out of your daze when he finally spoke.
"By all means, keep the ilk away from our precious leader, just don't get in my way. I have no plans to change how I've been operating because it'd been working just fine until we rescued that pesky bear."
It wasn't long before you all set out again. You came across a priest of Loviatar called Abdirak. He had implored you to go through some sort of ritual pertaining to his goddess of pain and at Astarion's behest you acquiesced. Karlach voiced her disapproval, pointing out that you had only just recovered. Normally you'd try to avoid unnecessary pain but if there was a blessing to be had, you figured you could put on a show. And that you did, you made no effort to hold back your cries of pain as that maniac let loose with a gods damned mace. If you were being honest with yourself, you had been expecting a whip. You couldn't focus on the chatter behind you as the others commentated but you did hear amusement in Astarion and Shadowheart's voices. Needless to say, you promptly downed a couple of health potions after you received the blessing.
You cleared through another room of goblins, dispatching Priestess Gut in the process and taking her worm to shove in your pack. You hadn't quite made up your mind on if you should take the dream visitor's advice. The last thing you wanted to do was put your trust in them and end up a mind flayer faster. As the others looked through the possessions of the dead for anything useful, Astarion took you to one side.
"Darling, I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we've shared - and I don't just mean that lovely neck of yours." He chuckled then glanced away briefly only to start fiddling with his fingers when he looked back to you, "I'm growing to like the whole package honestly. And you clearly like me too, soâŚ"
You raised a brow and crossed your arms, "So�"
"Come now, don't be coy. Your body's already given you away. I could feel it when I was getting lost in your neck." His fingers brushed just millimetres away from your throat, "Your little shivers of excitement. And that delicate blush you had just last night when I held you close. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"
He had crowded your space and you had to break eye contact so that the blush he was on about wouldn't return. Since when did you become so easily flustered? When did he start having this effect on you? You guessed you had always found him to be handsome but it shouldn't bring such a reaction from yourself.
"I'll never tell."
He gently grasped your chin and tilted your face to look at him, he was smirking like a cat who caught the canary, "You don't have to say a thing - I already know how you feel. Because I feel it too." His voice lowered and his thumb brushed along your bottom lip, smearing blood across it, "We could take an evening to ourselves. Get away from camp - get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet. Somewhere intimate. Somewhere we canâŚ" He got impossibly closer, drawing you in with a hand on your hip, all you'd have to do is lean forward ever so slightly to close the distance, "indulge in each other. Feel alive together."
"A less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious," Dammit all! That came out sounding breathier than it had any right to!
Astarion gave a quiet laugh and stepped back, "Thank goodness we're all such good, trusting friends, then." He placed a hand over his heart, "On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust."
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, "Th-that sounds pretty good to me."
He gave you a toothy grin, "Wonderful. I just hope we don't have to wait too long to steal away. But once we can, I promise you a night you'll never forget. See you there, lover." He gave you a wink and promptly joined the others, making over-the-top pleased sounds when he found a golden goblet.
You leaned back against a wall, hand over your chest as you felt your heart thud and pause, literally skipping a beat. This man had already been the death of you once, and he might just be again if the last of the goblins weren't. Shadowheart noticed you in the corner and came over.
"We can take a short rest if you need it. We'll understand. Lae'zel can complain all she wants. I'd be more than happy to gag her for you."
You shot her a small grin, "I'd appreciate that. Now that the druid has been rescued and fucked off back to his bloody Grove, we can take this at our own pace."
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You couldn't steal away that night, far too tired from Volo's botched attempt at removing the tadpole and slaughtering the last of goblins in the camp as none seemed to have the sense just to run the fuck away. Sleep took you as soon as you settled for the night but your dream was unusual. The visitor returned and yet again urged you to utilise the tadpoles you had collected from the slain goblin leaders. However, this being had claimed to be stopping the ceramorphosis from progressing as it should. So you were perplexed as to why they would want you to consume more. You awoke, confused and uneasy. A feeling which was compounded when the others came to you, describing a similar experience.
Astarion sat next to you, wordlessly passing you the hearty celebratory breakfast Gale had cooked up. You accepted it with a smile. You could feel the tension that had built between you from his proposition, you had always been a little awkward about⌠sexual encounters. Not many people want to be bedfellows with a necromancer and thus although you had experience, it wasn't much or recent. So you didn't really know how to talk to someone about it. Astarion, however, didn't suffer from the same anxieties as you.
"I think we should take the day to recouperate, especially with Volo unfortunately mutilating one of your lovely eyes. Though the replacement he supplied has its perks, I imagine that kind of⌠trauma needs some time to recover from. Perhaps we could visit that Ethel in her cottage. The teiflings aren't in any immediate danger, the Rite of Thorns will have been stopped by that bear of an elf Halsin." He tapped his finger on his chin, pantomiming being in thought, "Now, providing that the 'Dream Visitor' doesn't reappear tonight, perhaps you and I can enjoy a little death." He practically purred those last two words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "Figuratively speaking."
The implication of what he said was not lost on you and it took all your will not to hide your face behind your hands as your flush finally appeared at full force. Even your ears felt warm! You struggled to respond, mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"That is if you still want toâŚ" His hand dropped away, he actually looked unsure for once.
"O-of course! I uh- I'm just⌠not used to uh," you gestured between the two of you, "this kind of thing. Usually, there's a tavern involved, some alcohol and ends with disappointment."
He threw his head back, barking out a laugh. When he met your gaze again, there was something in his eyes you couldn't quite place, an unknown warmth was your best guess in hindsight. "I've been there, Darling. I know exactly what that's like. This is yet another first for me. But trust me when I say, a night with me will leave you far far more than simply satisfied."
Your hands flew up to your face as you held back whatever noise it was trying to escape you. He chuckled and you peered at him through parted fingers, he was grinning ear to ear at the effect he had on you.
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Auntie Ethel was a wash. She was a hag! An actual fucking hag! And she lost all interest in helping you when she saw you only had one eye remaining. There was a suggestion of one of your motley crew offering up theirs, but you weren't about to make them give up a goddamn eye to a creature as vile as a hag. And poor Mayrina, you couldn't stand aside and let her be swindled by the thing. Especially after you had found Mayrina's brothers dead in the swamp. You informed the poor girl of such and the hag had whisked her away. The ensuing battle was hell and you counted your blessing that no one accidentally killed the lass when the hag took her form.
So back you camp you went, still parasite-ridden.
You spent the lead-up to dinner organising your supplies in your camp chest, Karlach kindly offered to help as she found empty backpacks and trunks to organise things into before putting those into the magiced chest. Astarion's pottering about didn't escape your notice. He was gathering pillows and blankets from his tent and strolling into the woods with them only to return empty-handed a short while later and grab something else to disappear with. On his third trip, he caught your eye and flashed you a smirk and a wink. You almost dropped the bottle of dye you had been holding.
"Careful soldier, don't imagine you want custard yellow shoes," Karlach chuckled.
"Yeah, certainly not." You hastily put the dye in the appropriate satchel and then looked to Karlach who had a shit-eating grin.
"I saw that wink, have plans with a certain pale elf, do we? Can't say I blame ya. I would ride him to the Feywild and back if I had half the chance. And you too, until you were seeing stars. But sadly, I can't unless ya want to get third-degree burns in awkward places."
You choked on your own spittle. Was everyone around you so forward? Or were you simply the prudish one of the bunch?
"Thanks for the ah⌠compliment. To be honest, I'm out of my depth with this kind of, how to put it, entanglement. But he seems well versed in it. Like it's his forte I guess. Honied words and fleeting touches."
Karlach shuffled on her knees to face you fully, "All the better I'd say, who better to help ya blow off some steam and let loose than a master? Tell ya what, how about I give you some pointers and stuff? Before I was sent to Avernus and had this thing," she gestured to the engine, "put inside me, I used have the ladies and fellas wrapped around my fingers. If you catch my drift." Karlach wiggled her brows and you laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
"I'd like that. I could use the pep talk."
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The rest of the day passed quickly with Karlach imparting as much of her bedroom wisdom onto you as possible. And by the time Gale called everyone to dinner, your nerves were at ease. You had to force yourself not to rush through your meal as excitement filled you. Once done, you wished everyone a peaceful night before making your way through the woodlands in the direction you saw Astarion go multiple times that day, the final time being only moments earlier.
For a brief second, you were worried you had gotten lost until you saw his ruffled shirt hanging from a nearby tree branch. And then he was stepping out from behind it. You gulped, he was utterly beautiful haloed by the moonlight. Maybe he was a moon elf before he was turned?
"There you are," He was a vision of grace as he approached you, of elegance even when partially dressed as he was and surrounded by nature, "I've been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you."
You couldn't help the quip that left your lips, "Since you set eyes on my neck, you mean? You don't have me yet, 'Star." The memory of your first encounter coming to mind.
He chuckled lowly and shook his head, "Don't I? You're here. And I don't think you want to talk." His hand trailed up your arm, "I think you want to be known." His hand cupped your cheek, his other on your hip - once again pulling you into him, "To be tasted."
You gulped, "AâŚAnd what do you want?"
He gave a wry smile, "What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our Collective ecstasy." He absentmindedly stroked your cheek, "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
You leaned into his touch, "I want to forget about everything. I want to live."
"Then tonight, Darling, let's live to our fullest."
His lips were on yours in an instant.
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#astarion ancunin#astarion fanfic#astarion fic#bg3#bg3 fic#astarion x tav#astarion x reader
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i would like to request a jack fic where either him and reader are both famous and dating, and while heâs on tour everyone starts talking about him and dua. OR him and reader are close friends and everyone knows they like each other, but nothing is official yet and reader sees him and dua getting close ? i LOVE angst btw (happy ending pls) thanks love !
CELEBRITY CRUSH | J.HARLOW
PAIR: JACK HARLOW X FAMOUS!READER
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST
you and jack were going to attend this years varietyâs hitmakers as each otherâs plus ones. you were famous in your own right, doing acting as well as occasionally doing modeling. because this event had to do with music, you were basically jackâs plus one for the night.
tonight, you arrived wearing a long beautiful dress while jack wore a matching set. comparing each other, it made jack look like the janitor.
you two got a table and enjoyed the privacy that they had for a while.
you leaned in, getting closer to jack, âso whoâs arriving again?â
jack harlow started listing big names, âselena gomez, omar apollo, dua lipa-â
your eyes widened when he mentioned dua lipa. you didnât mind her, in fact, youâve met her before at a versace fashion show. she was one of the sweetest and prettiest people that youâve met during fashion week. however, knowing that jack made a song about her made things awkward between the three of you.
soon, more people started arriving, and they started greeting you and jack.
ây/n!â
âhey jack, congrats man!â
âoh my god, look at you two!â
you and jack continued greeting and hugging everyone until jack left. jack got off his chair to hug a familiar face from the industry. âiâll be right back.â
-
fifteen through twenty minutes have passed by, and no sign of jack. âmaybe everyone wants to catch up with him,â you thought.
you got off your seat as well, leaving the table empty. you didnât want to be that person, so you tried finding a person that you knew to ask where jack is. you started looking around the tables, eventually finding your friend and singer, omar apollo.
âomar,â you called, âcome here.â
omar came up to you, âhi y/n, whatâs up?â
âyou know how i arrived with jack? do you know where he is?â
before he answered, the two of you were blocked by cameras.
âomar! y/n! look!â
âsmile!â
as soon as the cameramen left, omar answered your questioned, âheâs still talking to dua, theyâve been at it for almost half an hour.â
âthank you omar,â you told him, giving him a hug before sitting at your table. you knew things already got awkward from there.
when jack came back, you decided not to bring it up during the event, but rather after. you and jack were driving to the hotel when you started the conversation.
âwhere were you when you left?â
âi was meeting everyone, and i even met the dua lipa.â
âreally? how was it?â
âwe had a long conversation.â
âthatâs fun,â you sounded very uninterested suddenly, and deep inside you felt jealous. not only jack met dua in person, but she was one of his celebrity crushes.
although you and jack were close friends, it was only recently that you and him started to get flirtatious with other. you had to admit that you developed a crush on him even though it was never official. this goes the same to jack, who had a crush on you way before you did, but never had the chance to confess.
âeverything alright, y/n? you seem bored of my shit.â
âiâm fine, just tired.â
âtired of hearing me talk about dua? y/n, itâs just a celebrity crush, calm down,â jack raised his voice, âyou donât hear me complaining about you and andrew garfield.â
âjack, i just admire his work, okay?â
âso i canât say the same thing towards dua?â
âyeah, but you two were so close,â you pulled up a picture of jack and dua, with the headline reading, âdua lipa dating jack harlow after split with anwar hadid.â
âsee for yourself,â you passed your phone to him.
âno, this canât be happening,â jack gave your phone back, ây/n, you know our relationship isnât like that, me and dua are just industry friends.â
âwhat are you going to do about it?â
-
the remaining of the day was a mess between jack and his team. jack called his publicist several times before eventually picking up in the evening.
âhello?â
âhi, can you explain why youâre promoting a relationship that isnât even real? we just met a couple times, thatâs it.â
âjack, itâs simple. if people see two of the hottest things together, it makes money.â
âso me and y/n arenât enough?â
âyou know y/n isnât like that.â
âand so am i.â
jack meant that about you. you were mysterious in a way, and no one really knows whatâs going on in that head of yours except for jack. he enjoyed being in your company and getting to know you better than anyone else.
the next day, jack decided to take you out on a simple lunch date. you guys wore a casual outfit, nothing fancy.
âyou didnât have to do this for me,â you said as you entered the restaurant. you and jack sat down in a table to talk things through.
âabout us,â jack starts explaining, âi know weâre something more than friends. since the day weâve met, i knew you had something the others donât. you have the charm, the humor, youâre an it girl in my eye.â
you paused him to say something straightforward, âwhat youâre trying to say is that you like me?â
âalways have.â
âthen why didnât you say it earlier?â
âi was scared y/n,â jack said, âi was scared that something bad was going to happen between us two if i confessed that i love you.â
you smiled at him, âwell look at us now, boyfriend. nothing bad.â
later that night, magazines began debunking the rumor of jack and dua lipa dating each other. in replacement, the same magazines began confirming the relationship between you and jack two days after. and it was that quick too due to a fan entering that same restaurant that you and jack did. i guess you could thank the die hard fans for it.
#jack harlow#jackman thomas harlow#jack harlow x you#jack harlow fluff#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow fic#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow smut#jack harlow imagine#jack fic#jack harlow angst#x reader#instagram au#social media au#fluff#smut#angst#urban wyatt#urban wyatt x y/n#urban wyatt x you#urban wyatt angst#urban wyatt imagine#urban wyatt smut#urban wyatt x reader#lil nas x#druski
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Obviously 𤤠+ đł with Ari Levinson dear Jam.
HOE-KAY! So I'm picturing you and your friend thirsting over this hunk of a man...
Hearty-eyes
Ari Levinson x Reader (You)
Warning: Diving Coach!Ari, Tourist!Reader, getting caught... sort of?), sentences in Italic is spoken in another language.
Summary: You are sure you can't be heard, or at least, understood when you thirst over a man in your native language.
"I can't believe you decided to spend our vacation on another beach." Your friend Asteria sighs, lying back under the warm sunlight, "Still, this resort is not half bad, where did you find it?"
You push the sunglasses over your head, turning lazily in her direction, smirking, "Not many results left after I type in Egypt+beach," reaching a hand to the small table between the two chairs, you grab your drink and sip the cool coconut water, "Plus, you had your share of camels and pyramids and sand in the first three days."
Asteria is a huge fan of ancient history. She selected Latin and Culture and History of Ancient Egypt in her undergraduate years, even if her major was East Asia Studies. While you got bored of this elective focusing on pharaohs and zig-zaw drawings on ancient stones quickly, Asteria followed the whole course and took another elective on Mayan civilization.
This is why when you ought to settle on a destination for your vacation, Asteria booked the first three days of a trip in and out of the desert, when you booked the next three days of one Red Sea Diving Resort.
Which accidentally comes with the hottest diving instructor you have ever met in your entire life.
"Psst, incoming alert." Asteria clutches your arm and shakes so violently, that your drink almost spills from the glass, her eyes rounding like a light bulb, "Hot coach at ten o'clock."
Coming from one of the smallest countries on the planet, you know that your native language is spoken by a small number of people. And at special circumstances, for instance, this hot coach named Ari, you naturally speak your mother tongue so that you could thirst over him with the benefit of no one could ever find out - except for Asteria, who spent four years studying it.
Sharing the same awe-struck expression as Asteria, you lower your sunglasses to have a better look at this brunette Adonis out of the water. He pushes his hair back, with the water beads falling from his chiseled chin and his large hand, dripping wet, not to mention the chest peeking from his diving suit -
"Oh my fucking God, he's looking this way." You squeal so high that you are close to out of air. Even using your native language, you can feel the shyness and nervousness bubbling from your heart and surfacing on your skin. Your face aflame by a simple look he delivers in your direction.
"Oh my - holy fuck, he's coming this way!" Asteria raises her glass to her lips, just to cover the huge grin on her face, "He's so fucking hot. Coach BDE."
"Fuck me." You exclaim, blocking your sight with the local newspaper you took on the way to the beach, because you damn well know that your heart is practically jumping out of your throat if you spare one more glance at the sex god.
"You really should." Asteria tempts you like a rightful friend would, "And tell me if his dick is actually as big as we imagined."
You hiss at her, seeing Coach Ari approaching your direction, "You are a horrible influence - not that he looks unfuckable. Hell, he looks so fuckable with the broad shoulders and the long hair." You whine in the most pathetic voice as he walks past you, "Fuck, I think I'm more soaked than he is."
"Then go talk to him!"
"I can't!"
"Of course you can!" Asteria nudges you in a particularly ticklish spot on your waist, "Go before Coach BDE disappears!"
"What if he says no!"
"You don't know that!" Asteria turns to look at the hot coach, "Great. Now he's gone." As if he has just disappeared on plain sight.
The lingering feeling of your face heating reminds you of the fact that merely with Ari's presence, you are flushed from head to toe. You can't imagine talking to him without embarrassing yourself.
Asteria rolls her eyes and pokes the ticklish spot on your waist again, "I swear, if you don't fuck him, I will annoy you about this for the rest of our lives."
"It's not like I don't want to fuck him!" You huff out in annoyance. Although with Ari gone, for now, you are deep in your thoughts so that you are still talking in your native language, "You know I'm too scared to ask him. I can't exactly go and ask, ' Hi Ari, my friend Asteria said you could be great in bed. May I fuck you?' "
A shadow looms over you. By the looks and widening eyes of Asteria looking at someone behind you, her eyes nearly popping, and the faintest wiggle of her eyebrows, you turn your neck to see the hot coach TM standing behind you, getting a whiplash as a result.
"Yes, of course." Ari simply says. A small smile tugging the corner of his lips, making the fact that he has understood your thirsting conversation painfully obvious. Ari has changed into a blue shirt and shorts, leaving his veiny arm and thick thighs in plain sight. Even though he isn't dripping anymore, you sure as hell still do.
You stutter for a moment, before hastily apologizing, "I'm so sorry, my friends and I were just talking, we didn't mean-"
"Of course, she means that." Asteria doesn't even pretend that she wants to leave the place for you and Ari, "Oops, I've got something going on. Laters babe!" Blowing you a kiss, she snatches her purse and dashes out of sight.
There is nothing smug about Ari's posture as he sits down on Asteria's chair, watching you with his clear blue eyes as you nervously drape the thin bath towel over your bikini. "Sorry about barging in on your conversation. My apologies for eavesdropping." His sharp canines bite into his plump lower lip, those mesmerizing eyes search for any sign that you could've felt offended by his movements.
"No... I should be the one to say sorry." The blood rushes to your cheeks again, you could literally ignite a match with your burning face, "... about ... um, what I've said."
"Please. I'm flattered, if anything," Ari takes a deep breath. If you were looking closely enough, you would realize the tip of his ears is painted with a faint color of pink, "Have you had dinner yet? I know a great place that cooks squabs."
The refusal is almost on instinct, but you think of the encouragement (and the threat) Asteria made before her departure, and the words roll off your tongue, "I'd love to."
Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here đ
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#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson fluff#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson#jammy's 500 celebration#writing challenge
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The Heretic's Confession, Chapter One
CW: Captivity whump, some... implications... references to branding. This is just me getting a feel for the idea and character, though, really.
-
The robes he once kept pristine are caked in dried mud around the hem. Grigory frowns as he inspects them, rubbing along the seam. It flakes away, leaving imprints of itself behind.Â
Maudlin, certainly, but it feels like the stain of their sins painting his soul.
Maybe suffering can give even a man of the Goddess the sentiment of a poet. His lip curls in disgust at the very thought.
Please, please speak to me, Dromada. Tell your priest what he must do to escape this nightmare.
She is, and has always been, silent to his pleas for Her assistance.Â
The Goddess the people worship may be a paragon of compassion and forgiveness, her sculptures solemn and grave with hands outstretched to embrace even the lowest-born of Her children, but Grigori is beginning to suspect the holy men have got it wrong.Â
She isn't gracefully wise. She does not reach Her hand out to hold Her children. No, as each day passes without Her so much as whispering a reassurance, he begins to feel She is th goddess of laughter, and he is Her current favorite joke.
A knock at the door to his room - his cell, really, but of course they all like to pride themselves on keeping him in high style in his gilded cage - has him looking up, a little startled. The moon has only made half of its trek across the night sky, through the looping swirls of galaxies far, far beyond the reach of mere mortal men. That milky spin of stars, everyone knows, is where the gods live.
He wonders how many of them are looking down on him, sipping crystalline waters, and mocking his pain.
He would spit on every last temple step, if he could.
If he could just leave the fucking room-
âBrother Grigori,â His guest singsongs, half-dancing into the room. Grigory turns away from him, laying one palm over one of the iron bars that blocks any escape through the window. His fingers close slowly around it.Â
âWhat do you want.â His voice is curt, it cuts short and sharp. âBastard.â
âOh, see you got my name all wrong again.â The leader of this little gang is tall - too tall - and all knees and legs, lean muscle making him heavier than he looks. Grigori is tall enough for a man, but he seems like heâs half-grown, compared to the bandit. The manâs hair is a shock of white atop his head, shaved on the sides, while Grigoriâs curly brown grows to the bottom of his ears, as is prescribed for the priests. He swaths himself in black kohl around his equally dark eyes and shining black leather worn back to brown from age and ill-use at the knees and elbows. Grigoriâs hazel and his dirtied robes look like a joke, placed next to the banditâs appearance. âItâs Bohli, remember? Or thatâs what my mother calls me, anyway. Or she would, if she were still alive. She probably uses that when she curses my name from the heavens above, granted. I mean, probably, unless she really is suffering in the Dark After, like she deserves-â
âWhat do you want, Bohli?â Grigoryâs head is already starting to hurt. âI donât have time for this.â
âNonsense. You have all the time in the world. You have nothing but time.â
âNot for⌠you. Please leave.â
âNope. Not going anywhere. This is my house, remember? I just let you stay here.â
âLet me.â The words are sour in Grigoriâs mouth. âRight, of course. Let me. Because I asked to be branded and trapped here in this room-â
âHush. I take you for walkies every day, little godâs dog.â Bohli winks, and Grigori - who took a vow of pacifism, once - imagines stabbing his own knife through his eyeball until it comes out the other side of his head. âIf you donât want a leash, you just have to prove you wonât run off.â
He would, of course. Run. Outside, the woods stretch far and wide. Thereâs a path he could take to find a village, to find freedom...
Or⌠more realistically⌠to get arrested for being in league with Bohli and his bastards, which he isnât, but everyone knows the goddess would save Her most faithful, and heâs been here too long. He would be branded a heretic. Everyone knows heâs a heretic. His own fellow priests would turn their backs on him. The people would burn him at the stake, for being defiled, degraded, a paragon of nothing but the filth they have covered him in. Little more than a bandit himself.Â
Maybe he is one.
Dromada would have saved him if he were truly Hers to save. And instead, here he is, the infamous giver of absolution to the men and women who massacre whole towns in defiance of - in direct insult to - the power and might of His Majesty, the King.
No. he would be burned as an enemy of the King's, and he would have no standing to defend himself. A captive this long isn't a captive at all, in the eyes of the world.
Just a man who no longer wants to be saved.
Tears prick at his eyes, and he struggles not to let Bohli see them and mock him even more. Itâs not like he hasnât already been marked. It was one of the first things they did. Bohli had given the order and watched while they tied him down. Grigori himself had been made to look as they put the iron in the fire, made to watch them heat it to red. Bohli had been whispering in his ear when when they pressed it to his pelvis, and Bohli had cooed over him while he screamed, stroking through his sweaty hair.
âJust leave,â He whispers, the area aching all over again. They branded him over the symbol of Dromada tattooed, a mark of his vow of chastity.
Another one broken.
Maybe that was when She stopped listening.
âOh, but I canât, darling Grigori. Iâve come to make a confession.â Bohli laughs, and his laughter could make you bleed even better than his blade. But somehow Grigori canât seem to die from the loss. âIsnât that why I keep a priest of Dromada around, anyway? For to save my poor mortal soul?â
Grigori fights the urge to wish aloud someone would poison the assholeâs food. âYou would burn if you touched the Hem of her robe.â
âMaybe.â Bohli shrugs, kicking a chair over and dropping down into it, loose-limbed. His eyes spark with delight as he takes in Grigoriâs misery. âBut you wear Her robes, and yet I never burn when I touch you-â
âSpeak your confession,â Grigory snaps, his heart twisting and going briefly silent and still in his chest. He feels blood rush to his face, and Bohliâs peal of bright, brittle laughter tells him the flush isnât going unnoticed.Â
âSay it.â Bohli watches him, and itâs like being watched by one of the terrifying big cats that roam the woods just beyond this hideous prison. Unblinking, a predatorâs stare. âSay the words, priest.â
Each time he does, they feel more bitter on his tongue.Â
But still.
Grigori draws the ruins of his robe closer around himself, and sits up straight. He swallows and sets his jaw. âBohlinde hir Maksma en Ygridsen, the goddess Dromada hears and forgives all from those who love Her. You have only to ask. Speak, child, and be forgiven.â
Bohli licks his lips, leaning forwards. Somehow, Grigori canât make himself look away. The bandit leaderâs teeth are sharp - those canines can rend skin from bone. Heâs part-elf, they say, somewhere in his bloodline the half-mindless shrieking hordes of the elven race lurk. You can always tell, so itâs said, from the sharpness of their teeth. From how little they care for the lives of men.
Maybe heâs half-elf.
It would explain why heâs so fucking smug.
âForgive me, Dromadaâs Chosen, for I have sinned against Her,â Bohli says, and he doesnât even try to feign sincerity. Why he even plays this game, when Dromada isnât a goddess for the elves of their wretched offspring to begin with, is beyond Grigoriâs understanding.
Grigori fights the urge to sigh. He makes Dromadaâs Sign, wondering if it even calls to Her any longer. If She even feels the spark of a followerâs call, or if heâs cut off from Her entirely. Who hears him when he prays?
Does anyone?
âHow have you sinned against Our Mother, She Who Gave the Waters?âÂ
Bohli licks his lips. His smile is a little too wide, shows too many of those sharp, sharp teeth. He'd be blisteringly handsome, if it werenât for the sight of fangs where none should be. âI wonât lie, Brother Grigori. I set some stuff on fire yesterday. And Iâm going to do it again. Will I be forgiven?â
Grigori imagines the mud climbing higher and higher up his robes, pulling him into the earth, forcing itself down his mouth and pressing over his eyes. He imagines the gods in the sky, looking down from their stars.
The image shatters with the memory of first sitting at the table with the dozen or so of Bohli's favorites, each of them smiling at him, while he sat in his pure white robes and felt himself bared, as if naked, before them.
Until Bohli had given the order for what to do with him.
âDromada forgives all who seek Her,â Grigori intones, thoughtless. The words memorized before he was even thirteen years old, before he was old enough to take his vows. Before he was taken, and they were all broken, one by one. Bohli loved breaking Grigori's vows. âYou have only to ask.â
âGood.â Bohliâs voice drops low. He has to focus to hear it, which is probably the bastardâs entire point. âBecause I really, really love asking, and I love the sound of your answers.â
The bandit stands, walking over to him, putting one finger under his chin and forcing Grigori to look up - and up, and up, and up - to see the demon smile.
Grigori is sure, as Bohli watches him with his head tipped to the side and his black eyes as bright as the stars, that he can hear the goddess laughing.
#whump#new whump#the heretic's confession#captivity#captivity whump#intimate whumper#creepy whumper#fantasy whump#some weird fantasy race stuff happening here#just go with it#religious whump#religion whump#fantasy writing#bohli is a bad bad man#grigori is just a tired blorbo
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okay, i might be late butâ would you consider writing a pt 2 of the ranboo x player!male!reader oneshot? tysm for your work â¤
Of course! I wasnât exactly sure where to take it, but I did my best!
Check out part 1!
Pairing: Ranboo x M!Reader
Interesting Interview Part 2
You were crazy. This was crazy.
You had been messaging Ranboo for months now, and you two had spent countless hours just talking. It felt insane to even think about how it all started: with just one little interview.
And what was even more insane? You were in his city for a game.
They could be minutes or hours away right now, and you could meet up with them. Sure, the two of you had joked about it, but nothing serious. Yet here it was. Your chance to meet him in the flesh after so many years.
Of course, you had seen images of him online. Him in general, really. His streaming was going incredibly well, and you loved to message him stupid things during a stream to see how he'd react. And in return, Ranboo messaged you during interviews or games.
"Get your head in the game, kid." Your coach says when you take a swig of water. "Leave the thinking until after we win."
"Yes, coach."
It was hard, of course. Ever since the moment he first messaged you it seemed all you could think about was if there would be a message waiting for you the next time you checked your phone. It was like an addiction. Part of you wondered if this was what internet fame felt like. For every notification you got, a rush went through your veins.
Somehow, you managed to not let it affect your playing. The second you stepped in front of that net was the second your mind tuned everything but the game out. There's a reason you're such a good player, and this was it.
This and the fact that Tik Tokers made a shit ton of thirst traps.
The game goes by smoothly, exactly like your coach had predicted it would. The other team was victim to patterns of play, a weakness your team knew how to exploit well.
So, you walk off with a victory secured and a mind free enough to think about Ranboo and the lack of messages your phone had.
"What's got you all upset looking? We won, man. Would it kill you to look happy?" One of your teammates asks, a grin on his face.
"Did we win? I hadn't noticed." You joke back, taking the towel he offered you to wipe the sweat off your brow.
"Are you going back to the hotel with us? I think most of us are just planning on sleeping."
"I-"
You're cut off by a commotion nearby, making you turn your head toward it.
"I'm not going to get him." Someone you recognize as one of the people working here says.
"No, I swear I know him!" A second voice says, one that sounds weirdly familiar.
Whoever the second guy is, he's being blocked by the worker. You can only assume the worker is talking to someone from the crowd, up in the stands. Maybe they got a little bit too upset their favorite team lost?
"You and everyone else. Get out of here before I call security."
The worker turns away, giving you a clear look at the fan. A fan that, with a gray mask covering the lower half of his face, was incredibly familiar to you.
"Ranboo?!" You exclaim.
They light up, waving. "I told you I knew him!"
You jog over, waving off the worker. "What are you doing here?!"
"I was going to surprise you, but man did I underestimate how hard it was to actually get your attention."
"You could've just texted me!"
"I did?"
You look down at your phone, opening your mouth to tell him that you had no new messages, when you pause. An icon you overlooked earlier was very clearly shown on your phone: it was on do not disturb.
"Oh my God." You groan to yourself. "I had my phone on silent."
Ranboo laughs, his eyes scrunching up. He's wearing a mask, but you assume under it they're smiling. "See! I'm not the idiot here!"
"No way, it's still you! You came and surprised me at my own game, then nearly got murdered by security! You do realize that you'll have to wait at least half an hour for me to get out of here, too, right?"
"I wanted to see you play. Which, good job, by the way. You weren't too bad."
"Thanks, I really strive not to be too bad." You glance around the emptying area before looking back at Ranboo. "I'll meet you at the parking lot in thirty?"
"I thought you said thirty was the minimum."
"I'll speedrun, just for you."
They laugh again, and you can't help but laugh with them. This is way better than making him laugh on a call.
"I'm timing you, starting now."
You swear, turn, and make a mad dash for where your team disappeared to.
Exactly thirty-two minutes later, you're walking up to Ranboo in the parking lot, entirely out of breath. Although your coach gave a relatively short talk, it felt like forever when you knew Ranboo was right outside.
"You're late!" Ranboo calls out to you as a greeting.
"Fuck!"
"That means you have to follow my plan for the rest of the day."
"When did I agree to that?!"
"Don't worry about it. First, we obviously have to walk to the ice cream place I promised you was the best in the world."
"Obviously." You nod. "My team was planning to pass out at our hotel, so this better be better than that nap."
"Way to set me up for failure." Is his joking response. "Quick question for you."
"Shoot."
"Do you come here often?" He nods back to where you had come from.
The smile you erupt into is surely stupidly large, but you can't help yourself. This was your guys' thing. When you shared it with that interviewer, you never could've imagined it leading to this.
"Only for the balls."
But you're damn glad it did.
#ranboo#ranboo x reader#ranboo mcyt#ranboo imagine#ranboolive#mcyt imagine#mcyt#ranboo dsmp#dsmp#ranboo x you#male reader
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I'm baffled that people are hating on you for having an opinion on a fictional Minecraft block man aksbahf. Even as someone who does enjoy FH (mostly the fandom version of it honestly), it's bonkers to judge someone for NOT liking a ship? Or not enjoying a character's behavior? Or for interpreting on-screen interactions differently than they do??? Like jesus, the whole point of fandom is to enjoy it the way you want to. You're not hurting anyone by seeing a pairing as negative based on what you watched. Look at friggin' Desert Duo, half the fandom writes 'em as toxic and divorced, and the other says they're devoted and inseparable. Different stances and interpretations make for a mixed and flavorful fandom experience and a melting pot of awesome stories and art. Good lord, god forbid you like something different or dislike a specific part of a media that you love lol
Keep doing you friend, you're great! <3
- đ§ââď¸
Oh god if only it were like desert duo, if only... But lmao yeah right!! I'm sorry that Scott smajor damnthatsalongusername is a guy that exists in real life I really don't care. I just want to discuss what I see from the series! And the more I see people with similar opinions to mine talk, the more evident it becomes that those opinions used to be so minimal because of this kind of fandom treatment. And so my heart goes out to anyone who dares talk about said opinions even if it gets them accused of homophobia lol. I'm with you guys...
And the fact that you like FH... but you're on my blog and share this sentiment... Is that so hard... Is it so hard to be decently sensible about different opinions and interpretations...
Also I do like FH too haha, I don't think I can say I ship it but obviously it's really compelling to me, and I've said it before and I'll keep saying it that I very much enjoy a lot of fluffy FH art and I really like them in ESMP1 for example. But no, I said they were toxic in 3L so that means I hate them!!!! It's ridiculous how much of a black and white matter this is to so many people, I don't understand... And the thing is that I WANT to understand! As you said, it's cool and intriguing! Differing discussion only adds to any one subject matter. Soft FH people probably wouldn't change my mind but I'd love to understand their points if only those points weren't something along the lines of "shut up you're wrong" (obviously not everyone!! But it is what I keep seeing in the FH tag lol)
I've seen people proclaim Jimmy as the abusive one, or proclaim ranchers as toxic etc, and I don't see it but man does it intrigue me! It's absurd to me personally, but I'm not telling you to shut up - you can't just say that and not tell me more! I wanna know what people are thinking without shutting one another down...
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Spies AU - Part 12
Part 1 Part 13 AO3
Happy new year đ
18th November 2015
With a short glance around the corner of the statue, Eddie slipped out of the shadows, dragging Steve along beside him, still holding his hand.Â
They kept close to the walls, Eddie steering him the whole time, keeping him close to the wall and blocking him with his body as they walked.
Steve could feel his heart kicking around in his chest and his breathing becoming a little more laboured as Eddie brought him in closer again.Â
He was worried.
He was worried that Eddie was going to get himself killed or hurt again helping Steve. He always got hurt helping him. Though his skin was pristine again and his movements were fluid, Steve vividly remembered what Eddie had looked like.
Looking at him right now, there wasnât a single trace left of the broken and battered man who had draped himself across Steveâs couch nearly a month ago.Â
But at the same time, while he was worried, there was a part of him that was excited.
Steve didnât get into this line of work because he liked the cosy comfort of safety.
There was a thrill being here with Eddie.
There was a thrill at the idea of getting caught, the danger that came along with trying to sneak out of a packed room, unseen, moving slowly and close together, half in the shadows around the periphery.
Steve wasnât sure exactly what Eddie was avoiding, probably multiple people at once, but he could tell he didnât want to end up back in the crowd again.Â
But in all honesty how much danger could Steve have possibly been in?
He could have been dragged somewhere quiet but he was hardly going to be drawn and quartered in this room.
But all in all it was very thrilling.
It really shouldnât have been, but it was.Â
Every time Eddieâs fingers tightened around his own, he felt it the whole way up his arm, straight towards his heart, hoping, just hoping that as soon as they were in the clear, he wouldnât have to wait a number of weeks to see Eddie again.Â
Honestly Steve was maybe a little lucky that Eddie still had a hold of him because he, again, had stopped paying attention to where they were going, too busy staring at Eddie who had a slightly intense look on his face, eyes constantly darting around the room and with body language that said âstay awayâ.
And it was all for Steve. He was doing it all for him. To keep him safe. To get him out of a dangerous situation he had put himself in.Â
âCheck in, dingus. Everything going okay? Your heart rate has been up for a while.â Robinâs voice sounded in his head.
Steve raised his hand, flipping the switch. âYeah, everythingâs good Birdie.â He muttered.
Eddie glanced back at him, his eyes flicking between Steveâs and then towards the hearing aid. He gave his fingers a squeeze before turning forward again.
âOkay. Are you gonna head out soon? Do you need an exit plan?â
âNo, I have- Iâm with⌠he-â
âOh my god.â Robing breathed. âKas showed up?â She whispered, so low that Steve barely caught it, trying not to be overheard by the other analysts who might still be in the office.
Steve couldnât help the soft smile that spread over his face. âHe did.â
âUgh. Sappy. And youâre taking him home to fuck his brains out?â
âIf Iâm lucky.â
âAs long as you remember to take the communicator off this time, I wish you luck.â
âCross my heart and hope to die.â
âThatâs such a weird phrase, but okay. Iâll hang out here until you give me the signal but please god switch your mic off. I donât want to hear whatever boy-flirting you two get up to.â
Steve smiled to himself again. âSure thing, boss.â He flipped the switch back off and looked up to find Eddie watching him out of the corner of his eye.
âYour analyst knows about me?â He asked, his body a little tenser than it had been.
âSheâs my best friend.â
Eddie glanced over, his eyes getting softer. âThatâs sweet.â He came to a stop next to a swinging door tucked out of sight.
âOkay, I donât think anyone paid us much attention. Luckily, itâs getting later into the night and everyoneâs already had plenty to drink because, apparently, professionalism is a dated concept-â
Eddie cut himself off, when he turned back around, coming face to face with Steve, pulling away a little and giving him a small bewildered smile.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
Steve blinked back. âLike what?â
âLike you- like⌠Nevermind.â Eddie shook his head. âWeâre going through the staff halls. Think your rich boy sensibilities can handle that?â
Steve rolled his eyes, pulling them both around until the door was behind him. âI thought I told you I donât go in for that lifestyle anymore.â
âYeah, but I saw you in there, sweetheart.â Eddie leaned forward and Steve leaned away, pushing the door open with his back but Eddie just followed through. âItâs like you were born to schmooze with boring old money and crooked elite.â
âHow long were you watching me?â
Eddie spun, dragging him down a bright but deserted hallway at a much brisker pace this time, their hands still clasped together.Â
âA while.â
They passed by a door that Steve could clearly hear through, the bustling sounds of a kitchen hard at work, getting every hors d'oeuvre exactly correct if he had to guess.
Through various twists and turns, Steve found himself being led underground, where the cold November night air was slowly able to seep through the concrete more and more until they were in a wide open garage, filled with rows and rows of cars.
âDid you drive here?â Eddie asked, holding Steve a little closer, their breath fogging up in the cold air.
âAre you going to warn me that maybe Creel has put a bomb under my car?â
âNah.â Eddie smiled, wide and dazzling and mesmerising. âHeâd never be as crass as that.â
âAnd you would be?â Steve asked as he scanned over the cars, itching to get behind the wheel of quite a few of them. Sports cars, vintage cars, a Rolls, a⌠fuck was that a Ford Model K?
Steve found himself drifting towards it, he wanted to touch but at the same time touching a car like that felt like a sin.
He didnât get very far either way because Eddie kept pulling him in the opposite direction.
âYou can look at the pretty cars another time, sweetheart. But to answer your question, explosives arenât really my style. Way too loud, draws way too much attention. Ostentatious, if you ask me.â
Steve finally managed to tear his eyes away from the vintage car. âSounds exactly like you.â
âYouâre being very cheeky.â
âIâm justâŚâ Steve huffed, trying to keep the blush away from his face. âIâm really happy to see you again.â He muttered before straightening his shoulders. âAnd no. I didnât drive.â
Eddie blinked at him, chewing on the inside of his cheek with a small smile, but seemed to settle on pushing on with his line of questioning rather than commenting on the words Steve wished he could swallow back down.
âThen how did you get here? And how the hell did you plan on getting home?â
âShould have brought a chauffeur, huh?â He grinned. âI took an uber.â
âAn- an uber?â Eddie looked scandalised. âYou took an uber to a Creel Gala?â
âIt was a luxury uber!â
âNot from your apartment building, I hope.â
âNo. Iâm not that stupid, thank you.â He gave Eddie a little shove. âWhat about you? Did you get chauffeured by someone, or something?â
âNot exactly.â
Eddie continued to face him, dragging him backwards until they came to a complete stop and Steve looked over.Â
âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me.â
Eddie grinned, eyes flashing.
âProblem, sweetheart?â
"You're telling me you drove to a Gala, in a tux, on a motorbike?â It was a sleek and powerful looking thing. All black angles and harsh metal. âAt least I was in a fucking car. Creel wouldnât spring for you?" He smiled back.
âI⌠well⌠I wasnât exactly supposed to be here tonight?â Eddie said, tilting the end of the sentence up like it was a question.
âWere you supposed to be out killing someone?â
âNot really.â He held a helmet out to Steve who took it. âI was just told I wasnât needed.â
âThat seems⌠suspicious.â
âNot that suspicious.â In the time it took for Steve to get the helmet over his head, Eddie had moved closer to him, gently bucking the strap under his chin. âIt might surprise you to find out but bringing an assassin to a party generally tends to lower the mood.â
âBut would they even know who you were?â
âProbably not. Probably think Iâm someone hired to look mean and scary.â Eddie shrugged, forcing his own helmet down over his head, swinging his leg over the bike and straddling it with just a touch too much of a curve to his back to be natural.
Not that Steve was complaining.
âHop on, sweetheart."
Steve raised an eyebrow but did as he was told, taking his time to press himself up against Eddie's back far harder than he needed to, winding his arms around his waist and holding on tight.
If he hadnât been prepared for it, the roar of the bike as it took off would have made him jump.
He gave a little squeeze of his legs when they turned to stop his body lurching around. They sped up the incline towards the garage doors that opened automatically and then they were out into the night.
When they stopped outside Steveâs apartment building, Eddie made no move to get off the bike, he stayed firmly planted with the machine between his thighs and his face impossible to determine through the helmet while Steve slipped off behind him.
He stayed firmly within Eddieâs space as he pulled his helmet off, shaking his hair out and trying to get it to behave.
He gently pulled Eddieâs helmet from his head and tried not to smile at the atrocious state it had left his hair in.
âGonna give me a kiss goodnight, sweetheart?â Eddie grinned at him all roguish bravado and white hot flirting that didnât do a good enough job of hiding the nervous set of his jaw and the stiffness along his body, like he was ready to bolt at the slightest hint of rejection.
Steve tilted his head, reaching out to carefully run his hand over Eddieâs arm, tracing it the whole way down until he could lace their fingers together.
âSomething like that.â Steve said softly, bringing his free hand up and running his thumb over Eddieâs bottom lip, featherlight. âWill you let me take care of you tonight, baby?â
Eddie stared up at him, lips parting ever so slightly under the weight of Steveâs thumb and tongue flicking out just a little to skim over the top.
âIf you insist.â
âI do.â
Eddie finally rose from his seat, swinging his leg over so he was standing right in front of Steve, their hands still clasped between them.
âLead the way.â
Despite how soft everything had started out, the energy in the elevator was charged, the two of them close to one another, Steveâs arm around Eddieâs shoulder, their hands clasped, not wanting to let each other go like theyâd disappear into a puff of smoke if they did.
But they also seemed to be under a mutual agreement not to start anything until they were safely locked in Steveâs apartment or things could very well begin and end in that elevator.
Steveâs blood was already alight in anticipation. He felt like he was suffocating in the best way, being trapped in a tiny metal box with Eddie pressed into his side, completely surrounded by him.
He almost let out a sigh of relief when the doors opened, but he refused to let Eddie go far.
It just felt so right to have him tucked into his side, like they were two puzzle pieces that finally fit.
It took longer than he would have liked to get into his apartment, all those fucking locks be damned.Â
Eddie didnât waste a second.
Almost as soon as the door was closed behind them, he was on him, kissing him with so much heat and desperation Steve was left momentarily breathless, hands up under Eddieâs jacket fisted in the back of his shirt while Eddie managed to walk him back until he was pressed up against the door.
âDingus, I swear to our Lord and Saviour Judy Garland, give me the fucking signal, I know what youâre doing. I can see your vitals, I can see youâre back at your apartment-â
Steve pulled back, reaching up to flip the switch and trying to control his breathing as Eddie latched onto his neck, biting and sucking and licking.
âIâve dropped anchor.â
âGod, that sounds disgusting right now. Okay, Iâm leaving, go get âem tiger. Happy slutting.â
âLove you too, Birdie.â
Steve practically ripped the hearing aid out, dropping it onto the side table by the door and grabbing at Eddieâs face, crashing their lips back together.
The two of them were hungry, desperate, after months and months of flirting and teasing and just barely being on the edge of danger every time they saw each other.Â
It was almost savage.
Eddie kissed him in a very similar way he had before but where the last kiss was full of anger and hurt and a little bit of confusion, this one was full of craving and eagerness and desire.
Steve was almost delirious with it, finally having him here was magical. He held Eddie close with a hand at the back of his neck, refusing to let him go anywhere, slipping his tongue into his mouth and trying to lick at everything he could reach.
Eddieâs hands were running up and down his body, diving under his jacket and untucking his shirt from his pants.Â
His muffled shout of surprise was drowned in Eddieâs mouth as Eddieâs hands, cold from the bike, grabbed at the skin at his waist, mapping out the scars there by touch.Â
Steve pushed, keeping them connected with wandering hands and nipping teeth but pushed nonetheless until Eddie was now the one being walked backwards, down the dim hall to Steveâs bedroom.
Eddieâs hands came up to fumble at Steveâs bowtie, getting it loose enough to tug free and throwing it away to the side somewhere while slipping Steveâs suit jacket off his shoulders.
Steve had his eyes closed, he couldnât see anything, he didnât need to, he knew the way to his bedroom blindfolded.Â
He could feel Eddieâs lips on his and Eddieâs fingers as they started to fumble with the buttons of his shirt and the frustrated puff of air and the muttered words let out over his lips.
âFuck this.â
Next thing Steve knew there was a great wrenching at the front of his shirt, the sound of fabric ripping and buttons pinging off the walls and Eddieâs fingers digging into his chest hair and pulling.
Steveâs knees nearly went out from under him.Â
Glancing down he saw that not only had Eddie torn his fucking shirt open, he had also managed to tear his undershirt down the middle as well at the same fucking time, while looking immensely proud of himself.
âWas that necessary?â Steve growled, boxing him in against the wall right next to his open bedroom doorway.
Eddie ran a hand up his stomach, burying his fingers into Steveâs chest hair again and tugged hard while grinning across at him, sharp and wolfish.
âEntirely.â
Steve glared at him. âWhen did you decide to become a brat?â
âAwh.â Eddie cooed back. âAre you gonna pretend you donât like it?â
âNo.â Steve snapped his hands down, grabbing Eddie's thighs and hoisting him up, barely giving him a chance to scrabble to hold on.
Steve dove back in, capturing up Eddieâs lips again in a kiss before he could let his mouth run away with him. He could feel Eddieâs hard cock against his stomach as he stepped away from the wall and entered his bedroom, Eddie throwing a leg out to kick the door closed behind them.
With a great heave Steve threw him onto the bed, relishing in the surprised little squeak he let out before the air was punched out of his lungs when he landed. He just lay there, bouncing slightly, staring at Steve slack jawed and red faced.
âClothes.â Steve waved his finger in a circular motion. âOff. Now.â
Eddie glanced down at himself then back up and Steve before surprisingly starting to pull himself out of his various layers with nary a bitchy comment to be heard.Â
While Steve shucked off the tattered remains of his shirt, letting it flutter to the floor along with his undershirt and kicking his way out of his pants, he watched enraptured as Eddie slowly revealed more and more of his body.
Steve had seen some of his tattoos before, but most had been marred by horrible bruises and cuts, but now, Steve had the opportunity to examine them.
With not even a whisper of embarrassment, Eddie had stripped himself completely nude, all that dark black and grey inkwork standing out against his pale skin, complimenting it beautifully along with his delicious hard and heavy cock, red at the tip and laying against his hip, nestled in dark curls.
Steve took the barest of steps forward when Eddie made a move to sit up, standing between his spread legs, feeling the heat radiating between the two of them. He kept his body back, keeping all touch as minimal as possible as he slowly bent over and pushed Eddie back down with a gentle hand on his chest.
âLet me look at you.â Steve whispered, watching the way the tattoos rippled under his touch, fascinated.Â
Eddie swallowed before his face broke into a wide grin, conceding and relaxing himself back onto the sheets with a satisfied look on his face. âWhatever you say, big boy.â His voice rumbled low and teasing. Steve could feel it through his hand.
He took his time, stepping back to take it all in, steadily cataloguing everything he could about Eddieâs body, raking his eyes over the tattoos as Eddieâs face got pinker and pinker under his continued silent scrutiny.
There were the ones he'd seen before, the Kas tattoo, the D&D dice, the cracking marble, the mug with a hat inside with the Chicago Bulls logo on it. The tree on his ribs with the roots extending down his hip and the hourglass on the opposite side.
But now that he was looking and allowed to look, he took everything new in with hungry eyes.
There was a raven in flight spread in between his hips, drawing Steveâs eye down. Though he could have spent far longer than was necessary staring down at Eddieâs cock, mapping it with his eyes, learning where every vein settled, the different colours it would turn as he got more painfully aroused, how it looked when it was weeping and twitching and pulsing, how the velvety smooth skin sat stretched, there would be plenty of time for that.
He dragged his eyes lower. Over Eddieâs left thigh was a shadowed image of the grim reaper, a pocket watch hanging from one outstretched clawed and skeletal hand. His right leg was completely covered in an elaborate sleeve of a dragon, shaded and highlighted beautifully in black and grey, making the scales look like glinting silver.Â
Steve looked back up. Eddie was watching him, his big brown eyes half lidded and lustful, his chest was fluttering with his heavy breaths under Steveâs gaze, there was a beautiful dusting of pink across his cheeks and down his neck and he squirmed a little under the scrutiny.
Like having Steveâs eyes on his face was more intimate than everything theyâd just done.
âAnything Iâm missing out on the back?â
Eddieâs face split into another mischievous and smug smile. âI dunno.â He shrugged a little, gripping the sheets between his fingers. âMaybe.â
âWell, Iâd better find out then, hadnât I?â He motioned Eddie to turn. âHands and knees, baby.â
Eddie bit his lip, looking like he was trying to decide between bratting out and biting back or being good. Eventually he let his lip fall from his mouth, red and glistening.
Eddie rolled himself over, all brash confidence and performance, pulling himself up onto all fours, spreading his knees wide and bowing his back, stretching his arms out in front of him like a cat, putting his whole asshole on display and giving a little satisfied hum when the breath was completely stolen from Steveâs body at the sight.
Eddieâs front was more decorated than his back, though there were still those spindly bat wings spread over his shoulders and down his arms but it was the others, three smaller ones by comparison to all of Eddieâs others, that made Steve finally reach back out and touch.
Over his right ass cheek he had a bite mark inked in, the indents where the canines should have been were made to look deep and round, like something with fangs had bitten in.
On his left cheek were just two words. âSpank Hereâ.
Steve had to grab at it, gripping the flesh between his fingers, looking at how the words distorted as he pulled Eddieâs cheek to the side, feeling something white hot flood his body when Eddie inhaled in surprise.
âYou are a little minx.â Steve muttered, dragging the thumb of his free hand over the third tattoo that caught his attention.
The word âHarderâ inked into Eddieâs lower back.
âSeems like Iâm getting some instructions back here, baby.â He said, almost taken by surprise at himself and how hungry he sounded.
Eddie was panting like Steve was doing so much more to him and Steve couldnât wait to find out just how much he could get him to unravel.
He pressed his palm over the word âHarderâ, letting his thumb rest against Eddieâs hole, just the lightest of touches but it was enough to have Eddie trying to push back.
âI-â Eddie gasped out, his thundering heartbeat nearly audible in his voice. âI prepped.â
Steve smiled, sharp and feral. He put some pressure behind the weight of his thumb, just barely breaching. Based on how tight Eddie was Steve could guess he hadnât tried to open himself up much, even if he had, he wouldnât have stayed open this long. Heâd probably just flushed himself.
âDid you?â
Eddie tried to rock his hips back but Steve held him firm with his other hand, still gripping at the flesh of his cheek.
âStop teasing me.â
âDonât be impatient.â
Eddie tried to push back again, glaring at Steve over his shoulder.Â
âAre you going to put something in me this year because-â Eddie cut off with a strangled noise of surprise as Steve pushed his thumb in, just up to the first knuckle before pulling it back.
âTell me why you prepped and I'll give you what you want.â
Even though it was what Steve had asked for, he was still maybe being a little bit mean because when Eddie opened his mouth to answer he started putting pressure against his hole again, not quite pushing in but just teasing at it, enjoying the way he could make it more difficult for him to speak, just with his hands.
âI- ah, fuck. I⌠I hoped Iâd get to talk to you again.â Eddie groaned out, still trying to push back.
âJust talk to me?â
Eddie whined, dropping his chin down and shaking his head. âNo. No.â He gasped. âI hoped youâd rearrange my guts for me, so could you get to it please?â
Steve hummed, both satisfied and even more feral than before. He bent down to place a kiss against the small of Eddieâs back before dropping himself to his knees, dragging his tongue down, hot and wet over Eddieâs hole, pushing in as much as he could without warning.
He had both hands on Eddieâs cheeks, pulling them apart and licking in like a starving man, wanting to devour him whole while Eddie writhed above him, cursing and moaning, letting out those delicious little âah, ah, ahâ noises that had Steveâs blood thundering.
He would have liked to keep going until he physically couldnât anymore, driving Eddie insane until he could no longer talk but Steve was not very patient at that moment. With one last lick as deep as he could get, he pulled his tongue out and ignored Eddieâs debauched and bratty whine of complaint.
âCanât rearrange your guts with my tongue, baby.â
âYou sure?â Eddie breathed out, shaking and trying to get his arms to behave, holding him up. âYou could give it a try.â
âI could.â Steve smiled, pulling his lube and a condom out of his bedside table, dribbling some out onto his fingers and warming it up a little before pressing his wet finger against Eddieâs hole again, teasing. âHow do you like it?â
âThought you were reading the instructions?â
Steve brought his hand down in a hard smack, right over the âSpank Hereâ tattoo.
Eddie jerked forward with a cry, a dribble of precum dripping out onto the bed sheets below.
âLike that?â
âYup.â He nodded quickly. âMm-hmm. Yeah. Like that. Please, sweetheart,â Eddie rocked his hips back and Steve let him this time, allowing him to fuck himself on his finger, hard and unforgiving, âneed you in me yesterday.â
Again, Steve could hardly argue. He wanted the same damn thing and his patience was wearing thin.Â
When he pulled his finger back to try and ease a second in, Eddie speared himself on the two of them at once with barely a shudder.
âFuck.â Steve cursed under his breath before ripping the condom packet open with his teeth, fumbling to get it on with his slippery fingers. âYou like it rough?â He asked, lubing himself up again. âYou like it to hurt?â
âYes, Jesus H. Christ.â Eddie hissed, his teeth clenched. âCome on, or Iâll-â
Steve didnât get to find out what Eddie was going to threaten him with as he pushed in, slow and steady, everything tight and hot and wet around him. He didnât give Eddie any time to adjust, letting him have exactly what he wanted, pulling back out and slamming back in with enough force to punch a loud moan out of his throat.
He started up a hard pace, watching with relish as Eddie was reduced to a puddle beneath him, grabbing at his trim waist, using it to bend his back down even further, dragging him back and forth, fucking into him mercilessly.
Eddie was only able to speak the barest of curses under his breath and that wasnât good enough. Steve wanted to wreck him, he wanted to ruin him, he wanted him so fucked out he couldnât string a sentence together, he wanted to give him exactly what he asked for.
So in one hand he grabbed a fistful of hair, using that to drag Eddie back for a few thrusts, bring his other hand down as hard as he could in a smack that should have been loud enough to bounce around the room, but it was drowned out by Eddieâs responding shout.
He wasnât going to be able to keep this up, he was getting close already. Heâd been aching to have Eddie this way for such a long time and now that he had him, it was intoxicating. Heâd never be able to forget it and Steve knew heâd be wanting it for the rest of his life.
He knelt his way up onto the mattress, nudging Eddieâs knees further apart until he was practically splayed wide open, spine bowed and head bent back by Steveâs fist in his hair, his whole body shaking.
Steve released his grip from Eddieâs hair but didnât let up, grabbing at his shoulders and shoving him face down into the mattress, pounding into him relentlessly.
Eddieâs eyes were rolling back in his head and his mouth was hanging open, drooling onto the sheets below as small moans and whimpers were being punched out of his lungs by Steveâs cock.
âYou close, baby?â Steve asked, his voice strained as he tried to keep his own orgasm at bay.
Eddie closed his mouth, trying to form the words, before just nodding, watching Steve over him with dark eyes and a flushed face.
Steve felt something animalistic and possessive take over him, looping his hands underneath Eddieâs shoulders and pulling him up onto his lap, sitting back on his heels and spearing Eddie deeper and harder than he had before while Eddie screamed out.
He dragged one hand down Eddieâs chest and stomach, wrapping his fingers around his cock.
He used his other hand to turn Eddieâs face towards him, holding him by the jaw and neck, hand just under his ear and kissed him deep and filthy.
Eddieâs lips trampled against his as he moaned into his mouth, trying to kiss him back. It only took a few tugs of Steveâs hand before Eddie was cumming with an entire full body shudder and a cry that Steve swallowed down, feeling him tighten around him, sending him over the edge.
He dragged Eddieâs hips down against him, deep and harsh, grinding up as he filled the condom, nearly having an out of body experience.
Eddie was completely limp in his grasp, the only sign that he hadnât blacked out was the fluttering of his eyelashes against Steveâs neck as he blinked and panted, trying to catch his breath.
Steve guided the two of them to lay down, hissing lightly as he slipped out, kissing up and down Eddieâs neck as he let out a little whimper. He made quick work of the condom, tying it off and throwing it off the bed somewhere to be dealt with in the morning.
There were a few wet spots on the bed sheets, lube, drool, precum, cum, but it seemed like they had managed to avoid the worst of it, if the spatter across the floor was anything to go by.
Again another problem for the morning. Steve didnât want to do anything at that moment except take care of his man.
He pushed himself up onto his elbow, brushing some hair from Eddieâs face, who smiled up at him, exhausted and completely fucked out.
âYou good, baby?â
Eddie nodded, wriggling back a little so he was pressed up against Steveâs chest.
âYou wanna be little spoon again?â
When Eddie nodded a second time, Steve leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, tugging him in close and holding him tight, using his legs to kick the bedsheets up over the two of them, not wanting to let go of him for a second.
As he tucked the duvet in around the both of them, Eddieâs breathing already evened out and steady, his face relaxed in sleep, Steve snuggled down and tried really hard not to think about sticking that giant âLâ word label on the feelings that had been lingering at the back of his mind for a while now.
Part 1 Part 13 AO3
Divider by firefly-graphics
@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#penny00dreadful#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#fanfic#pennys anniversary event#spies au#spy steve harrington#robin buckley#guy in the chair robin#cat and mouse spy fic#assassin eddie
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ŕłââˇthe apricity of your touch / chishiya x gn!reader
summary: who knew that a single touch brings back strings of emotions and memories?
warning/s: mentions of blood, implications of sex, slighty ooc, s2 spoilers, profanities, and slightly ungrammatical
word count: 1663
okay but damn this got me researching about things that are medically related - basically me trying to sound proficient and knowledgeable in the medical field... and ngl i enjoyed writing this i hope you do find this read enjoyable as well TOT
oh and btw my writing style here is inspired by @archieimagines ' antidote (a chishiya ff as well) bc damn we were having a quiz in physics and it randomly pops up in my head making me all giggly. idk if i did chishiya justice here tho, i tried istg tot
++ reqs are closed; will finish my remaining works first before i open it again ^^
if you enjoyed reading this, lemme know by liking and reblogging it would mean a lot - only do it if its okay with you. <33 enjoy !!
"i'm sorry. we did the best that we can do." a glum voice spoke out that was soon drowned out by a series of wails, and pained cries of desperation coming from the woman with a frail body, her body shaking from the pain of it all. this is a sound that has been a little too familiar to the ash-blonde-haired man that stood a few blocks away from the scene for he was a former messenger of unpleasant updates. he took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from the weeping woman, and walked away.
his footsteps reverberated throughout the bland and empty hallways; the shiny, vinyl composite flooring â all covered in a pale color. sullen walls painted in white, glass walls separating each room, and compartments, decorated with nothing but a single table, and pair of chairs planted in front, and ivory curtains that hid the examination bed from behind the doctor's table. there was a bit of greenery found inside each room â a small pot of succulents and snake plants, a forlorn attempt at making the area look somewhat lively and comforting. louver lights flickering and blinking - illuminating the dust littered particularly in the air. empty hallways filled with the ghosts of past mistakes and hope delicately revived.
everything about the premise is melancholic and a reminder of how futile and vulnerable humans can be once a part of them starts to fluctuate and fail.
"shuntaro, you have a patient at the consulting room, i think they're here for a brief check-up." a silvery voice chimed in from behind the reception lobby, her hair tied in a sleek ponytail, with a clean make-up look.
the man named chishiya nodded in response and immediately head towards the elevator. Its been 3 months and a half since the meteor struck their city - thousands of people died brutally, and multitudinous casualties.
for quite some time, after chishiya woke up in the same dreary bed located in the lackluster rooms in the hospital, he had a few realizations - actually, lots of realizations to be honest, as if something inside him cleared. if you died for a minute, for sure after you woke up you would look at life in a different light - thatâs what chishiya thought.
aside from this, he also has this gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach, that hefty void in his heart he canât explain at all, as if he was missing something or he was meant to do something but he forgot about it - and god, this was frustrating as hell for the platinum-haired man.
the elevator dinged signifying that he reached the floor he needed to go to, abruptly disrupting the enigmatic trance chishiya was in. his slender, veined careful hands turned the cold knob of the consulting room, and there, he saw a dainty figure, hunched over - hands placed on their knees, delicate fingertips drumming in anticipation.
you seemed to be lost in your own reverie because you didnât lift your head up when chishiya entered the room - you were biting the insides of your cheek, and your hair stubbornly falling on your face despite being tucked behind your ear.
âgood afternoon,â chishiya greeted you, his voice husky yet silvery at the same time, caught your attention as you instantly whipped your head towards the man who spoke in front of you. his hands were both inside his pockets, a single black pen clipped in his lab coatâs chest pocket.
you stood and greeted him back - the man briefly smiled and quietly walked towards the consulting table. his hair was gracefully tied up in a ponytail. the air conditioner in the room blew a gentle, wintry breeze, and the moment chishiya entered the room, it seemed like his woody, and musk scent delicately mixed into the whole ambiance.
the man wearing the medical coat then initiated the check-up - he asked a series of questions and listened to your concerns and as your words stretch into hazy sentences, something about you feels oddly familiar to him who intently stared at you as you talk, nods every now and then and he tried to analyze, not what you're trying to say, but your features. god, you look so familiar, but he can't even remember when and where he saw or met you. was it at that coffee shop downtown? or on the thrifting book event that was hosted 4 months ago that he accidentally stumbled upon? he sighed and looked down.
âiâm really sorry for the inconvenience, i -â you apologized, apparently, you were here for a monthly check-up but dr. kobayashi wasnât around, but it didnât bother chishiya at all - he was intrigued by you.
âItâs fine, no worries.â chishiya replied, shaking his head as he smiled and waved off your statement. he mentioned you to go to the examination bed located near the window, a few blocks away on the left side of the table.
there was tranquility laced in the atmosphere, a comfortable silence, between the two of you - chishiya followed you close behind, after grabbing his stethoscope from the drawer.
ŕłâ⡠i don't wanna live forever ; zayn malik and taylor swift
the distance between the two of you was closed the moment chishiya carefully placed his stethoscope two intercostals beneath your left collarbone - âtake a few deep breaths,â he requested, voice low and hoarse, but incredibly honeyed. the cold metal of the stethoscopeâs bell seeped through the fabric of your clothing, making you heave your breath deeper.
chishiyaâs eyes lose focus every now and then, torn whether to look in your eyes or anywhere else as he listens to your hushed heartbeats. your body was tense and stiff - so was your gaze. ânicely done, just a few more and we're done.â he mused, because somehow, he canât breathe as well - there was this electrifying aura that engulfed the two of you; he switched his instrument and placed it the same exact distance beneath your clavicle, this time on the right side.
âWhere the fuck were you? I was so worried.â
maybe two or three harsh flashes of vivid images popped up in his head, an array of disorganized thoughts and memories he doesnât know where and when happened - he gulped. what the hell is happening?
down. he placed his stethoscope on the 4th intercostal space of your ribs, between your chest- âbreathe,â he repeated, this time, with emphasis.
perched at the second floorâs railings, you were staring down at the people partying their lives away, their hands either full with glasses of cocktails and whiskey paired with intoxicating lit cigarette sticks, dim embers falling gracefully on the ground, contrasting the scintillating array of led lights that surround the premise, there you were, directly proportional to him, eyes full of genuine adoration and fleeting lust.
ŕłââˇeverything has changed ; taylor swift and ed sheeran
down, again. beneath your chest, located in the middle of your 5th intercostal space - âcome find me after we get out of here, okay? iâll wait for you.â your ragged, and sweet voice croaked out before you fell to the ground. chishiya watched as you bathe in your own pool of blood, body covered in stab wounds, bruises, and fractured bones that you acquired after your fight with the king of spades.
ah. yes. you - the one who pulled him back to the halo of hopes amidst the hell that most of you players call, borderland. his saving grace, the only thin thread of humanity and sanity that keeps him in check every now and then. you, who he shared most of his nights with, souls and bodies entangled under the sheets, finding solace and pleasure in each other. you who would join him in his insanity on starless night skies boring each other's insecurities and deepest regrets to each other.
you, who he considered as his serendipity of kindness that he found in the discord of hostility - the person he never knew he would fall for, and give his all to see back again, after the hellish nightmare both of you shared.
âall done.â the taller one smiled, as he helped you get off the examination bed - he held your hands to assist you and your skin felt warm against his freezing ones, soft against his calloused touch, your gaze calm contrasting his frenzied eyes, masked by a half smile, and curt bows.
seconds stretched into entangled minutes - and chishiya was contemplating whether to ask you about what he suddenly remembered upon relishing in your serene presence.
âthank you. have a nice day ahead.â you bowed as you bid your goodbye to him.
fuck.
he thought, the uneasiness crawling under his skin violently the moment you were gone from his sight - should he take this chance? or was he just hallucinating? would it be weird if approaches you and ask you that question? he doesnât want you to feel uncomfortable or anxious around him.
but damn, those memories that popped up in his head are as real as he could feel in his heart, mind, and body. he sighed and ran outside. he won't overthink this one anymore.
hasty and desperate footsteps echoed on each hallway and floor that he strided in a hurry - upon reaching the lobby, he whipped his head to search for your figure only to find you almost outside. he heaved a deep breath and called your name that halted your pace towards the main door.
âiâm really sorry to ask you this question and it might be unprofessional of me, but iâm sure weâve met before.â he breathed, his bangs covering half of his confused face.
you chuckled. âi thought you forgot.â
relieved, he smiled back. âalmost.â
âwould you like to have lunch with me, dr. shuntaro?â you quipped, and offered your feeble warm hands.
âit would be an honor.â and placed his hand on yours - the apricity of your touch reminded him of what comfort and cloud 9 felt like.
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#chishiya headcanons#chishiya x reader#chishiya shuntaro x reader#chishiya x you#aib chishiya#aib s2#aib imagines#aib fanfic#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya fluff#shuntaro chishiya#imawa no kuni no alice
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