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#back from the brink blogging

harocat · 10 months

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NOW when will these elf kids go away.

#back from the brink blogging

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sharkstatic · 5 months

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you!! show me your ocs (pretty please)

OFC <3 oh man where to even start

i have about 22 active ocs i rotate lmao about 10 of those have fully developed story/background/personality

these are all ones i dont think ive posted much or at all but these are some of my fav designs/concepts:

memphis honey- catboy extreme, magic user, very loose morals, carved those symbols into his own skin before his scheduled execution so that noone could bring him back once dead. once took over a cult in order to blow it up.

diamond- legally a tattoo artist for powerful demons that would usually heal up tattoos and piercings. illegally most other things. that collar is very literally keeping their head on.

sixgill- very very very old sixgill shark. she lives in the deep ocean and protects an ancient evil and also the ancient evil's baby son. 27 ft tall.

dishi- 7ft tall super buff spirit medium and compulsive liar. a romantic but has the worst taste in men youve ever seen. sees ghosts, demolition expert. this is specifically him while possessed which happens more often than hes comfortable with bc the Veil Is Thin around him, hes like personified halloween

fangfei- sir thats a whore ass bitch. cloud dragon. their style can be summed up with 'cheap and gold'. had to fight their twin to the death at an early age. mommy issues. doing coke in the bathroom about it.

:D they are all fantastic i love them ty for giving me an opportunity to spit them all out on here

#i didnt wanna just post all the arts id already done dfshbdfggfd #so heres my faves #otherwise kuo and dou wouldve been on here but theyre on a post on my main blog i think #i dont think ive ever mentioned memphis or sixgill or diamond on here #they all have pretty extensive lore but it would be too much to put down here #diamond died and his brother made a deal with a dream demon to bring him back from the brink of death #memphis comes as a package deal with sigurd theyre besties #and he forgets morals exsist as soon as hes presented with something interesting and sciency but he KNOWS this so he trusts sigurd to check #ANYAWY TYTYTY FOR ASKING SORRY THIS TOOK A DAY I HAD TO DECIDE WHAT TO EVEN ANSWER WITH DFGSBHGHFDS #i decided to try not to just post all the art i already posted again #so new ocs be upon ye fdsghfds #thanks for giving me an excuse to show them off #this is like the worst picture of dishi but its also most interesting lmao #this also reminded me of another oc i should finish and post shes actually my favorite concept for an oc ever mostly for the pun in her nam

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ct-hardcase · 2 months

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Was thinking about Trilla and her story, and how (very understandably, given her slowburn turn in JFO) a lot of her fandom emphasis is on the fact that she was dragged kicking and screaming into the inquisitorius and focuses on her redemption as a hinge point, with there being a fandom-wide recognition that she's a good inquisitor, but I really want to dive into the meat of the latter.

Even though Trilla was the farthest you could get from a willing inductee, she clearly got good. We don't have much hard evidence of her skill pre-JFO, but she clearly has a presence on the field given how her purge troopers act around her in Dark Temple, and is an intimidating combatant against Cal throughout. However, taking the analysis from this post (a highly-recommended read, since it shaped my thoughts on Trilla and other inquisitors' characterization), she wasn't always that way—and quite the opposite.

The inquisitorius broke Trilla down in order to turn the kind, anxious soul screaming for her master into an efficient and ruthless inquisitor. I'm sure she holds a lot of resentment, of course, but I wonder how Trilla feels about that the other side of her remaking. How, from a certain point of view, there's a commanding presence she didn't have before, how she's not shrinking in the background during a duel fight, how she leads when it's down to her and another inquisitor on a mission.

I also have to disagree that Trilla was looking for an out of the organization prior to JFO—I don't think anything other than Cere showing up and the catharsis of the final duel could have triggered that in her, honestly, since there's a line where Trilla says she intends to use the holocron as leverage to advance in the organization. That sort of determination to be noticed by Vader or Sidious feels more ambitious than Reva-esque, to me.

Trilla's attempted turn to the light is important, and I think it's what keeps so many people coming back to her as a character, but her having been a dedicated inquisitor before that is what makes her interesting idk

#star dorks #sw headcanons #idk why it's yammering season on my blog this week but #inquisitorius tag #was thinking about the differences between trilla and reva #and there's some similarities obv #but for me there's a difference between reva making a deal with the devil and being shaped into an inquisitor though never being truly loya #before pulling herself back from the brink #vs trilla who was forced into it then turned into a loyal inquisitor out of brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy before almost turning #(and then having that snatched away at the last minute)#like yes there is the turn to the light but they feel like totally different flavors to me

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grassbreads · 10 months

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Tell me how I, the gal with terminal "can't stop thinking about Tai Sui" disease, read hundreds of thousands of words of Mo Du over the course of months, starting right after I finished Tai Sui, yet it took me until right now in this instant to put together the Fei Du->Zhou Ying parallel

Like. Here's the favored son of a man who is incredibly powerful and morally bankrupt. He hates his dad and would be quite happy to commit patricide, should he get the opportunity, but he doesn't directly do so because it wouldn't suit his schemes. He has spent his entire life since his teenage years painstakingly putting together the chess pieces necessary to both destroy his dad and unravel the truth of a grand unknowable conspiracy that has haunted his entire life. He's a genius and the way his mind works is utterly incomprehensible to everyone else in the world, even those who know and love him best. The right kind of placid smile from him can be the most terrifying thing anybody has ever seen. He is willing to use himself up and toss himself out completely if it is the means to the final end of his schemes.

It's just that with Fei Du, the whole point of him is that he's not nearly so terrible as he thinks he is. He's not a psychopath. He's not cruel, regardless of how much empathy he may or may not naturally have. He's just spectacularly traumatized by his childhood. And the presence of Luo Wenzhou in his life both saves him from spiraling down into his original epic self-destructive plot and allows him to access his buried human emotions.

Then, 5 years later, Priest came back to revisit some of the same ideas and turn absolutely all of them up to eleven. She wrote a man who doesn't just think differently from others, but who perceives the world so wildly differently from anyone else that his experience of existence is utterly incomprehensible to his peers. She wrote a patricidal prince who doesn't just want to destroy his father and his company, then tear out the truth of a criminal conspiracy, but rather wants to destroy his father and his entire country, then tear out the truth of the sky itself. She wrote a man who genuinely doesn't give a single damn about anyone other than himself and his tiny tiny selection of loved ones. Who would destroy the entire world in a fit of vengeance and who uses his own willingness to kill innocents as leverage against others. She wrote a man who plans to achieve his goals by way of epic self destruction and does exactly that, leaving the main character's loss of him as the central beating tragedy in the otherwise best possible ending.

She also wrote a story in which, when Zhou Ying's closest and most loved person realizes the dark and scheming truth of him, rather than saying "I can fix him; I don't think he's really so bad," he says "yeah, this is my cousin and he's a terrible menace who tries to destroy the world sometimes. I love him more than anything."

You can absolutely see how Priest's interest in similar ideas informed both characters. It's just that Fei Chengyu didn't succeed in raising his perfect little sociopath successor, but Emperor Taiming and the demons of the impassible sea absolutely succeeded in Jokerizing Prince Zhuang. They just couldn't possibly anticipate the kind of monster that the demon of the east sea would become.

#ok technically this is a bit of a called shot for me about Fei Du #I'm still in the middle of book 5 #but like. he's not gonna die or go full evil. he's the love interest in a danmei #and the story up until this point has VERY clearly been about lwz showing Fei Du how human he still is #and pulling him back from the brink of something dark #it's an I can fix him romance #so it'd make no sense for the story to make a sudden 180. and I think priest knows better #mo du is about a good man trying to force himself into darkness and being saved #and about how he never realized how much he wanted that salvation. but he did want it. it drew him to lwz I think #tai sui. as others have said. is about the tragedy of trying to save someone that GENUINELY does not want to be saved #that shakes off your attempts to help them whenever possible and is genuinely good at doing so #idk man I just love fucked up little guys #tai sui #mo du #silent reading #fei du #zhou ying #prince zhuang #andie reads silently #also side note. but it was SO hard to decide which blog to put this on lol #it's part of my mo du liveblog. which goes on main #but also tai sui meta. which goes on morethanwonderful #augh.#long post #tai sui spoilers

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xiakeponz · 11 months

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On ep 2 of back from the brink and 👁️👄👁️ cracking up lmaoooo she thinks he is snek... LOL 🤏 (btw in Chinese zodiac, snake is often called "Xiao Long" (little dragon) ie. Year of the little dragon 🐲)

when will she find out he is the Real Deal beeg long boi (pun not intended ehehhe...)

#jeez neo hou looked like a kid to me in ep1 but less so in ep2 hahaha #will they make the dubbing timing better tho #back from the brink #护心 #cdrama #ponz watches dramas owo #sorry for photo of photo im kinda idly blogging as i watch from my ipad from my couch blanket worm state

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tteokdoroki · 4 months

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Jock bf yuuji who loses a game and takes it out on reader later 😏

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #7. poor practice.

about. the jock boyfriend has a shitty practice, luckily his adoring weird girlfriend is there to make him feel better - this came out more angsty than expected sorry anon !

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, hurt-comfort, emotional sex, unprotected sex, jock bf!yuuji, weird + fem!reader.

omg omg yeah!!! like i don’t think yuuji would get rough or anything but he’d come back to your dorm a little ticked off or dejected, in need of some loving :( he’d like flop on top of you, keep you crushed beneath his weight. he’d ask for a kiss, which would start slow and tender — yuuji pouring all his emotions into them.

those kisses would quickly grow in heat and feverishness, his tongue in your mouth and his hand on the back of your head. “please baby, please.” he starts begging against your wet lips because he needs some kind of outlet and you’re right there for him. kissing you faster, moaning into your mouth, squeezing you so tight to his chest that you almost can’t breathe.

yuuji would never hurt you, he’d rather die than cause you any pain. so i think while he’d take his frustrations out on you it would be more like passionate strokes and making you cum on his fingers over and over and over again. he wouldn’t stop until the sheets are soaked and you’re shaking so much that you can hardly open your eyes.

it’s only then that yuuji fully unleashes his emotions, “one more for me, honey. i just need o-one more from you.” ‘cause then he’s slipping inside of you and moaning so deep like it’s his first time ever fucking you, maybe he sounds like he’s about to cry because all yuuji can do is feel in the moment. give you everything he has while rutting into you nice and slow, making sure that you feel every inch of his cock, every nudge of his fat cockhead against your soft, slick lined walls.

please he’ll be chanting your name with his face buried into your neck and his tears painted against your skin, pumping you full of him — pushing you past the brink of overstimulation. itadori just wants his chest to stop hurting and his brain to stop thinking so he can focus solely on you.

and when he cums it’s deep inside, right in the very depths of your core. he’s so shaky, his eyes are so watery and his breath is shuddery. “i can’t…fuck, i can’t.” yuuji hiccups through his aftershocks, and you’re right there with him to brush his hair back and kiss his cheeks, telling him how much you love him and how much you loved this night.

yuuji hates being berated at practice, but he adores the love and praise he gets from you after.

#itadori smut #yuuji itadori smut #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori angst #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #⋆｡°✩ — jock bf!yuuji #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #angelshubnetwork #ghostqueues

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 month

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this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.

(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader

— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant

Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.

You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.

Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.

The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.

So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.

By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things

(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.

(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.

The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.

You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.

Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.

You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.

You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.

The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.

But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.

“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”

Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.

And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.

The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.

You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.

“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”

And (3)

They would kill to be that man.

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harocat · 10 months

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Final Back from the Brink thoughts:

Extreme love for how it handled the FL. Yanhui was completely respected all the way thru. Her trauma and grief were respected, her agency was respected, her power was respected, and she remained the LEAD until the end. Other shows take note.

The show had a long stretch of fairly boring eps that being said, and I never warmed up to Bai Xiaosheng even if he did get marginally less irritating. I never forgave Lingxiao either.

The writing was... decent but not super consistent, and the side characters were fairly lacking. The villain was just there. The romance is cute, but not something that is going to stick with me. Tianyao wasn't really fleshed out that much, which could be part of the issue with that. Actor was cute though.

The humor pretty much went past me 90% of the time. I feel most xianxia is written so teenage girls can enjoy it, but this one felt more like it was written exclusively for them at times. Which is not bad!! But I'm not a teenage girl lol.

Once I got in the final fifteen or so episodes, I did zip through it pretty quickly, but those episodes from after they leave Yongzhou to when they get married are… tough.

Also because for like ten episodes all the ML does is look sad and go '…Yanhui :(' Peak malewife, but when all the male character screentime was going to BXS in the meantime, I was like can this please end lol.

So I would recommend Back from the Brink if you need something to pass the time, if you want an easy watch, or if you want a really good female lead that's respected by the narrative. It might be worth it for that last point alone.

Zhou Ye is really charming in the role (gay people will know her as Gu Xiang from Word of Honor), and she has an easy camaraderie and chemistry with pretty much anyone she interacts with.

Also happy ending, which I appreciated, even though I was kind of like 'wow how did that happen' lol.

Now to catch up on The Longest Promise. :)

#back from the brink #back from the brink blogging

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fvsm4x · 2 months

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❝﹝ ᝰ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 part 4 ★ ˙ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི.ᐟ﹞

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

｡𝐂.𝐖: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , sexual assault , attempted rape , dark themes.

｡𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.2k+

｡𝐀/𝐍: I lied to y‘all, part 5 idk when

taglist: @3zae-zae3 @sexeyess @silkija @dancinhhillary @musicarose @vanevafu @labelt-san @cl16void @feellaaya @animechick555 @nanmiik @ichikanu @cupidszvlvr @pinksaiyans @phoenix666stuff @coffeeluvr96 @alpha-mommy69 @isaacdaholi @xx-rfg-xx @certainduckanchor @ambalikadubeyy-blog @r0ckst4rjk @xxemmarldxx x @starrylibras s @lady-cryptstone @sparklydhokla @hoeforchoso @sweetlilhoshi @getou0309 @n8mareee @integers @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @skittleabyss @softnorth @maliakealoha @avalordream @dazaisfavgf @thebacksack @darkphoenix3432 @mwtsxri @nothisispatrick300 @andioopsworld @sup-hoes-its-me @yihona-san06 @s3r-en-d1p-ity @mandysfanfics @adanfore @rainydayssmokescreens @luvvmae @aquamarine001 @chilichopsticks @tinyjeo @adoretaylor @girlsvvish @misfits1a

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

As you stepped out into the night, the cool breeze brushed against your face, signaling the arrival of darkness and a slight chill in the air. Seeking warmth, you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket and began to walk away from your apartment.

The night sky stretched above you, a vast expanse of inky blackness punctuated by the shimmering glow of yellow and white stars. The trees swayed and danced in the cold wind, playfully pushing strands of hair away from your face.

The biting cold weather caused your lips to tremble slightly, and your eyes threatened to release the tears you had been holding back since you were inside your apartment. The wind, instead of offering solace, seemed to intensify your emotions, pushing you closer to the brink of tears.

Why were you crying? Was it because Geto had found someone else? Someone who was more beautiful than you? But deep down, you knew that you didn't have romantic feelings for him. So why did you feel this pang of jealousy? Perhaps it was because he seemed so happy, while you were not.

They appeared to be blissfully happy together, almost too happy. Yes, there was no denying it - you were undeniably jealous. You couldn't help but imagine yourself in their shoes, with Gojo by your side, sharing moments of happiness, embracing each other with radiant smiles and blushing cheeks.

But that reality was no longer possible. Gojo had made it clear that he didn't want you. He had found someone else to shower with his affection. You had hoped to move on, to forget about your feelings for Gojo and find solace in someone like Geto - someone kind, gentle, and reliable, who would never hurt you or betray your trust like Gojo might.

But try as you might, you couldn't bring yourself to love Geto the way you loved Gojo. Gojo still held your heart in his hands, even though you wished he didn't. Why didn't you deserve to be happy? What had you done to deserve this treatment from Gojo? These questions echoed in your mind, leaving you feeling lost and hurt.

The desire for happiness consumed your thoughts, leaving you questioning why it seemed so elusive. It felt as though life had dealt you a cruel hand, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had done something to deserve this constant ache in your heart.

The decision to let Geto live with you in the apartment that Gojo had gifted you now seemed like a double-edged sword. On one hand, it had provided you with a sense of security and companionship during a time when you had nothing and no one. But now, with Geto having found a girlfriend, their presence together in the apartment served as a constant reminder of the past, of the moments you had shared with Gojo.

However, the thought of kicking Geto out of the apartment never crossed your mind. He had been there for you when no one else was, offering you a place to stay and a shoulder to lean on. The debt of gratitude you owed him was immeasurable, and you couldn't bear the thought of hurting him by asking him to leave.

But the reality of the situation was hard to ignore. With Geto now in a relationship, the dynamic between the two of you had shifted. The once frequent and cherished moments you spent together were slowly dwindling, replaced by the presence of his girlfriend. The pain of this change cut deep, reminding you of the void that had been left in your own heart.

It was a bittersweet realization. On one hand, you wanted Geto to find happiness and experience the joy that you had yearned for. But on the other hand, the thought of losing the closeness you once shared with him was almost unbearable. The loneliness that settled in your chest was suffocating, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was the price you had to pay for allowing yourself to love someone who didn't reciprocate those feelings.

As you continued to walk through the night, the weight of your emotions pressed down upon you, making each step feel heavier than the last. The tears that had threatened to spill earlier now streamed freely down your face, mingling with the cool night air. The world around you seemed to blur, as if mirroring the confusion and pain that consumed your thoughts.

In that moment, you longed for a respite from the ache in your heart. You yearned for a glimmer of hope, a sign that happiness was still within reach. But as you trudged forward, the path ahead appeared uncertain, and the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly before you.

As you continued your leisurely stroll down the bustling street, completely engrossed in your own thoughts, an unexpected interruption abruptly jolted you out of your reverie. Without warning, a firm grip seized your arm and forcefully pulled you aside, causing your heart to skip a beat and adrenaline to surge through your veins.

Startled and disoriented, you swiftly pivoted to confront the source of this sudden intrusion, only to find yourself face to face with two imposing figures towering over you. Their intense gazes, marked by dilated pupils and flushed cheeks, betrayed a mixture of desire and mischief. Smirking down at you, their eyes seemed to devour your presence.

One of them, his hand still clasping your arm, gradually allowed his fingers to glide up your forearm, tracing a tantalizing path towards your shoulder. With a deliberate and almost hypnotic motion, he entwined his fingers in your hair, playfully twirling it around his own digit. His voice, laced with a hint of seduction, broke the silence, "What brings such a beautiful lady like yourself here?"

As the words escaped their lips, a shiver ran down your spine, causing your heart to race in your chest. You couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and curiosity, unsure of what this encounter would bring. The intensity of the moment seemed to freeze time, leaving you suspended in a state of uncertainty.

Their gaze bore into yours, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet it fully. You felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. What did they want from you? Why were they looking at you like that? Fear began to grip you, making it difficult to find your voice.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you managed to muster a response, your voice trembling with a hint of caution. "What do y-you want from me," you stammered, your words barely audible. You hoped your timidity would shield you from whatever intentions they had.

Their smirks deepened, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. Their amusement was evident, and it only fueled your anxiety. What were they finding so amusing? You felt their presence so close, their breath grazing your ear as they whispered. It sent a chill down your spine, making your heart skip a beat.

„Oh, we're just looking for a little adventure. And it seems we've stumbled upon someone who might be up for it.“

The mixture of fear within you intensified. You knew you had a choice to make, but indecision clouded your thoughts. Should you let fear dictate your actions, or should you embrace the unknown and venture into uncharted territory? The thought of the latter sent waves of panic through you, but there was also a strange allure to the idea.

Summoning all the courage you could find, you forced yourself to meet their gaze, though your eyes quickly darted away.

You mustered a response, your voice barely above a whisper. "Uhm- I don‘t think I‘m up for that little adventure of yours…" Your voice trailed off, your words lacking the conviction you wished you had.

Their eyes sparkled with newfound interest, and you couldn't help but wonder what you had gotten yourself into.

The person standing before you leaned in closer, their eyes sparkling with mischief and a sly smile playing on their lips. Their words were laced with an enticing promise, "Oh, come on," they said, their voice dripping with seduction, "we guarantee that we'll give you an unforgettable experience."

Feeling a surge of discomfort and unease, you instinctively took a step back. Their gaze was fixated on your smaller form, making you feel vulnerable and unsafe. Your lips trembled slightly as you averted their intense gaze, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control.

With every intention of escaping this unsettling situation, you slowly began to walk backwards. But your attempt at retreat was abruptly halted when a hand forcefully grabbed your face, yanking you back towards them. The grip was rough, and it sent shivers down your spine.

"Where do you think you're going, miss?" the person holding your face sneered, their voice dripping with an unsettling mix of dominance and aggression. They pushed you further into their personal space, their other hand wrapping possessively around your waist, leaving no doubt about their intentions.

A whispered plea escaped your lips, your face contorting with fear and your eyes welling up with tears. You knew all too well what they wanted, but you refused to let anyone use your body against your will. The weight of their desires and the intrusion into your personal boundaries felt overwhelming.

Why did these things always seem to happen to you? Why did Gojo have to betray your trust and cheat on you? Why did Geto have to replace you? And now, why did these strangers feel entitled to possess you?

A sense of despair washed over you as you contemplated your seemingly endless streak of misfortune. Perhaps, you thought, you didn't deserve happiness after all. Maybe you were destined to endure these hardships. But deep down, you couldn't fathom what you had done to deserve such torment. The answers eluded you, leaving you feeling lost and helpless.

„P-please let me go.“ you whispered, your trembling hand instinctively reaching out to push against their chest, hoping to create some distance between the two of you. But instead of relenting, they tightened their grip on you, their hold becoming even more suffocating. The room suddenly felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in on you, and the air grew heavy with an unspoken tension. Panic coursed through your veins, causing your heart to race and your thoughts to spiral into a frenzy of fear and desperation.

What had you done to deserve this? Why did it seem like these unfortunate circumstances always found their way into your life? It was as if the universe had conspired against you, casting you as the perpetual victim of misfortune and suffering.

Maybe, just maybe, in another life, you deserved to be happy. Perhaps there was a parallel existence where the scales of fate tipped in your favor, where joy and contentment were your constant companions. It was a fleeting thought, but one that offered a sliver of solace in the midst of your current turmoil.

The hand that had been on your face now moved, sliding down to your neck, gripping it tightly and pushing you closer to the person who had trapped you. Just as their lips were about to meet yours, a voice abruptly chimed in, shattering the tense atmosphere.

"Oi... what the hell do you think you're doing?!" The voice came from behind, and you swiftly turned your head, your heart sinking even further as you recognized the unexpected intruder. It was Gojo. What was he doing here? His presence sent shockwaves through your already tumultuous emotions, leaving you even more bewildered and distressed. His expression mirrored your own surprise, as if he had stumbled upon a scene he hadn't anticipated.

"Get away from her!" Gojo's voice boomed, cutting through the tension like a blade. He swiftly moved towards you, positioning himself as a protective barrier between you and the ominous figure that had threatened you mere moments ago. The stranger, who had been momentarily caught off guard by Gojo's sudden arrival, now wore a scowl, their arrogance faltering.

"This doesn't concern you. Mind your own damn business," they sneered, their voice dripping with disdain. "Give me back the girl. She was certainly enjoying herself," they added, a twisted smirk forming on their lips.

Gojo's gaze shifted from the stranger to you, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your tear-stained face, frozen in fear and anguish. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Enjoying it? I don't think so," he retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of fury and concern. "Look at her—she's fucking crying."

The question echoed in your mind, reverberating with confusion and disbelief. Why was Gojo, of all people, coming to your aid? What compelled him to intervene in this dangerous situation? But in that moment, as you stood there, vulnerable and broken, his unexpected support offered a glimmer of hope.

"These are happy tears," the man sneered, taking a menacing step towards Gojo and aiming a punch at his face. With lightning-fast reflexes, Gojo caught the man's fist and twisted his hand, eliciting a cry of pain from his adversary.

"Happy tears, huh? More like pain tears," Gojo growled, forcefully throwing the man to the ground before turning to confront your shocked and motionless figure.

As Gojo stood before you, his eyes blazing with determination, he extended a hand towards you, offering his help. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

"I-I'm okay- thank you," you muttered, taking a step back from him. Confusion and a whirlwind of emotions churned inside you as you struggled to make sense of the situation. The man who had replaced you, who had broken your heart, was now standing before you offering assistance. Memories flooded back, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. Where was his girlfriend? Why was he here?

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, and you quickly wiped them away, refusing to let him see your vulnerability. You couldn't bear the thought of appearing weak in front of him, especially after three long months of trying to move on from the heartbreak.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger, you turned away from Gojo, avoiding his gaze, and took a step forward to leave him behind. But just as you thought you could escape, a hand grasped your wrist, halting your movements.

As you turned around, your eyes met Gojo's figure standing there, his posture tense, his gaze lowered, and his expression a mix of emotions. His voice was gentle as he released your wrist and asked, "Hey... are you sure you're okay?" His concern was palpable, evident in the way he studied your tear-swollen eyes, a clear indication of recent distress.

Gojo's heart twisted at the sight of your tears, aching with the uncertainty of their cause. Was it his fault, or the dangers you had faced? The sight of you in pain tore at him, leaving him feeling helpless in his desire to ease your suffering. Despite the complexities of your shared history, his instinct to protect and console you remained unwavering, even though he felt clueless about how to mend the fractures in your heart.

"I'm fine, thank you for your help," you replied, avoiding his gaze, the weight of the moment suffocating you. You just wanted to escape the intensity of the situation. The air around you felt heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, creating a tension that seemed to thicken with each passing moment.

"Hey... um," Gojo began, his voice soft as he struggled to find the right words. His fist clenched as he averted his gaze, his internal turmoil evident in the way his brows furrowed with self-reproach. The silence between you was pregnant with unspoken apologies and unaddressed grievances, adding layers of complexity to an already fraught interaction.

"I messed up, I'm sorry," Gojo finally admitted, his voice tinged with regret and a hint of desperation. The vulnerability in his tone was a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor, revealing a side of him that you rarely saw – a side that was raw and exposed, stripped of its usual facade.

Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart racing with a mix of emotions. You searched his face for any signs of deception but found none. The lines of worry etched on his face, the sincerity in his eyes, all seemed to point towards a genuine remorse that tugged at your heartstrings, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.

"I'm so, so sorry, y/n," Gojo continued, his brow furrowed with genuine remorse. "I know I've hurt you in ways I may never fully comprehend. I can't erase the past, but I want you to know that I truly regret everything I've done." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and unaddressed wounds, creating a palpable tension that seemed to envelop the space between you.

You listened to his words, sensing the sincerity in his voice, yet the wounds he had inflicted remained raw. You were torn between the hope of reconciliation and the fear of trusting him again. The foundation of trust that once bound you together had been shattered, leaving behind a jagged edge that seemed impossible to mend.

As Gojo stood before you, his apology hanging in the air, each word felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders, a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused. Memories of being replaced, evicted, losing your job, and discovering his betrayal flooded your mind, a storm of pain and betrayal you had tried to bury. The ache in your chest grew with each passing moment, the conflicting emotions swirling within you like a turbulent sea.

"I'm sorry, please give me another chance," Gojo pleaded, taking your hand in his, holding on as if his life depended on it. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled between you. The weight of his hand in yours felt both comforting and suffocating, a reminder of the bond that had once held you together, now frayed and fragile.

As you felt his hand in yours, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. The warmth of his touch stirred memories of happier times, of shared laughter and stolen moments of intimacy. But beneath the surface, a current of pain and betrayal still lingered, threatening to pull you under.

You looked into Gojo's eyes, searching for answers, for a glimpse of the man you once knew. His gaze was earnest, his expression a mix of regret and determination. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored the turmoil in your own heart, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

"I don't know if I can," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The weight of his apology, of the past that loomed between you, felt like a heavy burden you weren't sure you could bear. The wounds he had inflicted ran deep, leaving scars that seemed impossible to heal.

The realization that Gojo had a girlfriend sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing through you. Doubt and insecurity gnawed at your insides as you grappled with the implications of his relationship status. Would he betray her with you again, repeating a cycle of deceit and hurt? The mere thought of being entangled in such a web of deception made your stomach churn with unease.

His words echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of the comparison he had drawn between you and his girlfriend. "She's better than you," he had said, a dagger to your already wounded heart. The question lingered like a shadow in your thoughts - if she was indeed better, why did he seek you out again? Was it a game to him, a twisted manipulation of emotions that would end with you cast aside once more?

"You have a girlfriend," you spoke, your voice tinged with a mix of hurt and skepticism. "Right now, it feels like you're just repeating the same pattern that hurt me before."

His grip on your hand tightened, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness evident in his touch. The warmth of his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm offered a sense of reassurance amidst the storm of emotions swirling between you.

"I know it's complicated, and I understand your hesitation," Gojo began, his voice tinged with regret. "I never intended to hurt you. But being with her made me realize the depth of my mistakes with you. I can't change the past, but I want to make amends, if you'll allow me."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken questions and doubts that clouded your mind. Would history repeat itself, with Gojo playing with your emotions once more before discarding you like before? The memory of past wounds still fresh, the scars still tender, made it hard to trust in the sincerity of his intentions.

Gojo's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions - remorse, longing, and a glimmer of hope. His grip on your hand remained firm, a silent plea for a second chance, for understanding, for forgiveness.

"Me and her broke up," he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours as he gazed down at the ground, his expression pained.

As he uttered those words, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swept through your mind. Did he seek you out because he wanted to rebound from his recent breakup? Would he just use you as a temporary replacement until someone better came along, only to discard you once again?

You knew deep down that you deserved more than being someone's second choice. You craved genuine love and loyalty, to be someone's priority and not just a convenient option to fill a void.

The ache in your heart intensified at the realization that Gojo had only turned to you because of his recent breakup.

"S-so, you only want me back because you're no longer with your girlfriend? How could you- play with my feelings like this…?" you questioned, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

As you stood there, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion swirling within you. Memories of the past flooded your mind - the times he had come to you for comfort, the moments of laughter and intimacy you had shared. But now, it all felt tainted by the realization that perhaps it had all been a facade, a temporary distraction for him until something better came along.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling voice as you continued to confront him. "I thought what we had was real, that you cared for me beyond just a temporary fix. But now, I see that I was just a convenient option for you to turn to when things got tough with her.."

His eyes met yours, a flicker of guilt and regret passing through them. "I didn't mean to hurt you..p-please," he began, his voice filled with remorse.

But your walls were up now, your heart guarded against further pain. "Intentions don't erase the damage done," you replied, tears spilling down your face.

„At least give me a new chance- I promise…I‘ll be better..please..-“ he begged, falling to his knees and looking up at you.

As he knelt before you, his voice filled with desperation and his eyes brimming with tears, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. His words tugged at your heartstrings, stirring up memories of happier times and the love you had once shared. Despite the pain and betrayal you had experienced, a part of you still longed for the connection you had with him.

His hand holding onto yours felt familiar, comforting in its own way. You could feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him, his vulnerability laid bare before you. The urge to comfort him, to offer reassurance and forgiveness, warred with the anger and hurt that still lingered within you.

You gazed into his pleading eyes, searching for sincerity and remorse. The guilt began to gnaw at you, whispering that perhaps he deserved a second chance, that people make mistakes and can change. The inner turmoil threatened to overwhelm you, clouding your judgment and weakening your resolve.

A part of you wanted to believe his promises of change, to hope that things could be different this time. The idea of rebuilding what was broken, of finding a way back to the love you once shared, flickered in the depths of your heart. But another part of you, the part that had been wounded and scarred by his actions, hesitated to let down your guard once more.

But it wouldn‘t hurt to give him a second chance, right..?

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pedgito · 4 months

Note

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson.

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt.

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

Almost begged for it.

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace.

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white.

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #pedrostories

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eoieopda · 11 months

Text

the one with mingyu and the twin bed

summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.

You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.

Well, that’s the primary problem.

The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is.

You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.

He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?

“— feeling okay?”

Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.

“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”

That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one.

Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.

“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.”

Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”

“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively. “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”

At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents.

“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”

“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.

Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly.

Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”

You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.

Fuck.

Is he about to faint? He really might faint.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.

That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.

“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?”

He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve.

This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.

Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.

When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”

If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”

The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.

He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.

“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.

God, he’s pathetic.

Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too, if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.

Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.

His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.

You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”

When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure.

You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this.

Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.

Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.

It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.

That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed.

With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.

Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.

Fuck.

How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?

Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.

Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.

He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt.

He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —

Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.

You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”

Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”

For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.

There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.

He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.

As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.

“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.

Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”

“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”

That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.

You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:

Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.

You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.

“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”

Right out of the gate, he trips.

Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”

Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.

Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.”

He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.

“If you can’t —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”

Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.

Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.

His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.

No, he really might cum on the spot.

You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.

No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.

“What do you want, baby?”

He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.

“My mouth?”

Oh god.

He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head.

Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.

When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.

Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.

He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.

If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.

“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.

As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.

You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.

Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.

One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.

Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.

That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:

“Fuuuuck.”

You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.

Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.

Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?

“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.

Any distance is too much.

“But you feel so fucking good —”

Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.

“— might have to bend the rules for you.”

It’s torture.

Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.

You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.

He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.

“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”

The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for.

The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.

Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.

And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.

“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.

You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”

Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”

Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”

He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes.

You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”

Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.

“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —”

The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.

#jade’s drabbles #jade writes #svt #svt drabbles #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt smut #kim mingyu #mingyu drabble #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #kmg #btshoneyhive #re: the one with mingyu and the twin bed

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 month

Text

Crinkled Polaroids

Ex-boyfriend!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Hi my lovelies, Lia here and I'd just like to say that this took so long and so much effort, I really poured my heart out on this one and I hope it goes well. Recently my biggest heartbreaks are the "What ifs", what if you two worked it out? Would things be different? Would Simon have the life you've dreamed for the both of you and the one he's been deprived of?

You might be asking me "Lia, what's up with all the angsty content recently, aren't you a fluff dedicated blog?" Well I feel ill, I just got off an extremely busy week and most of my drafts have been never ending angst because I lost ideas of a domestic fam with Simon but I still need to get something out for you guys okay? A random bedtime scenario written down at 3am and for the rest of my midnights during a photoshoot and exam week, what could go wrong?

I'm still waiting on what my beloved @connorsui's review has to say 👀

Disclaimers/Warnings: This is not proofread, also ANGST.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

A relationship with Simon Riley going south, at first it started great as most relationships do with several minor bumps due to his past but no big deal right?

But Simon distances himself, more than what's healthy and yes, you do give him his space but there's only little time until closing and distancing off for a while could turn into something like neglect.

Little things like "I love you"s, "thank you"s and every verbal affirmation that you used to think you could cling onto was now non-existent, it hurts but isn't as hurtful when he refuses to touch you.

Back hugs you give would only give you a cold shrug in return, kisses you left were on cold chapped lips that remain still. At this point, you were better off loving someone dead.. then again, aren't you already doing so?

The life you've imagined for the both of you cease to fade in your head as the true reality of the man you love sets in, that dumb idea your younger self who had rose tinted glasses had to actually settle down with someone in such a short period of time of a few years.

You felt so unappreciated, it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him to see you. You felt cheated of the relationship you were supposed to have with him when you see others with the one you love and how he acts around everyone except you. You felt like nothing but a chore to him, an occasional fuck who cleans his home.

Then again, this is a broken man, you felt entitled to ask such a thing of him when he himself is also just healing from what his past had caused.

In Simon's eyes, he was doing you a favor, fucked up in his part thinking hurting you is the best way to save you from himself. It worked, that's what he wanted.. right?

So you leave, it was best for the both of you anyway right? Simon deserves someone who could actually make him happy and you deserve to feel loved in a relationship. Simon's life was a mess, truly, but he didn't realize how much more of a mess it was without you.

Coming home to an empty shell of a house, nothing to look forward to. He found himself almost on the brink of insanity, moving things all over his own home as if you were still there.

Always finding himself staring at that one wornout and creased polaroid of you and him, you were a silly one huh? A hobby of yours that left so much proof of your existence.

Begging him to be in a picture, bribing him with a kiss. Slightly smudged and distorted but still legible pen ink at the back as he flips the flimsy piece of thick, shiny paper.

Keep him safe for me, Ghost.

- Your favorite girl <3

You always thought of him as Simon and Ghost as just an alter ego, a mask that he needs to wear in order to stomach the violence that comes with his occupation.

You were the only one who can differentiate these two people. Tears started to form in his eyes but he blinks it away and shoves the polaroid back in his wallet.

He only started noticing changes when Johnny points out that he's become stone cold, a lot more silent, though he was known to be a ghost.. a shadow.. it wasn't like him to not even try to light up his mood with his dark jokes.

Everytime Simon thinks he gets over the pain, there's always one thing in that stupid house that reminded him of you. You weren't there but it sure felt like that you haunted every corner of the house and his mind.

Whether that'd be something you gifted him or an item of yours left behind, especially when the two of you shared moments with those items, oftentimes Simon tries to relive those, preserve his fading memory of your face.

This is what happens when the decisions you make have consequences on the one that your world revolves around.

A few years down this lane, nothing has changed for Simon, at some part of this never ending low point in his life he was under substance abuse.. alcohol to be specific, since to him it was easier. In concern of his captain, he did get help for it to which had progress.

Ghost kept it together, "today was a day to celebrate Gaz" he thought, blowing out the nicotinic smoke and flicking the ash off his cigarette after.. he knew Ghost's thing was more of a "let's drink and play pool in a pub" rather than a sit-down dinner kind of guy but Kyle insisted.

He thought about how awkward it was, although Ghost felt like he knew Kyle's family just from the lovesick fool himself who would never shut up, always finding a way to talk about his wife and their two kids.

After another puff, he throws the cigarette butt on the pavement and grinds the sole of his shoe over it, the soft hiss for the cigarette evoking, proving it was put out.

Simon walked a few blocks till stopping at the Sergeant's described location, his footsteps made smooth, satisfying taps on the wood floorboards of the porch and he knocks.

Price took liberty of being the one to open the door for Simon because the family was busy, Simon walked through the front door with ease, seeing Johnny somewhat interacting with a kid.

He was welcomed by the a cozy looking space, it was homey and clearly occupied, the shoes lined up on the shoe rack next to the door from the largest pair to the tiniest which was such a far contrast from his empty gloomy apartment.

The kid caught glimpse of Simon, they run up to him and take his hand to guide him into the living room as of to welcome him before bringing back their attention to Johnny and somewhat messing with his stubby mohawk.

The lieutenant observed his surroundings, the little toys and picture frames hung around the house, for a moment his heart drops to his stomach, he blinks thinking he must've been imagining things. Simon walked closer to it, he wasn't imagining it.. that was you, in a wedding dress, in the photo with Kyle.

You looked glowing.. as if you've never looked better in your life, that heart stopping smile on your face, the flowery bouquet on your hands. The green of stems highlight the precious metal band on your finger. Of all the people, places and time, why here? Why now? Why Kyle..?

For a few seconds, just a few when Simon thought his nerves and gut settled, he heard the sweetest voice that was all he knew.

He forgot what it sounded like, the effect it had on him, all too overwhelming for a man who tried desperately to run away from the consequences of his actions. I guess that saying that once you don't hear someone's voice as frequently, you start to forget what they sound like.

For once, the ringing in his ear is gone. Just your voice, all he needed, he closed his eyes for a few soaking in the fact that you're here. For a moment he forgets to take into account that you weren't his. You and Simon make eye contact, the smile on your face drops as soon as you realize who is in your home.. who your husband invited..

Dinner came around, you tried your best to stomach the food you made, every swallow was a challenge. You spent most of your time staring at the food below you, afraid to even spare a glance at Simon. He was as uneasy as you were, telling the group he had to go to the bathroom as an excuse to explore what you now view as your home. The place you built your family together with your husband.

Simon uses the stealth he was known for to sneak in all the rooms, starting with the closest, the kitchen. The pictures on the fridge were enough to catch his attention, polaroids were something he was all too familiar with. Photos of the kids littered on the cold metal box with magnets others were of you and Kyle.

Everywhere he glances was proof of the life you built, the life you could've had together if he hadn't taken you for granted. Simon returned to the table a few minutes later, you easily notice the sudden drop of his mood to solemn.

Constantly closing his eyes, the lieutenant's head was spinning, taking in the fact that Garrick was able to settle down with you in those few years, the same amount of time you'd been together and you both were never close to achieving what you had now.

The night ended with the mens' satisfied stomachs while you and Kyle play-fight about who gets to do the dishes. As all of them were about to leave, you gathered what little guts you had to at least try to talk to Simon as he's the last one out the door, away from the ears of your husband who's currently doing the dishes because the last thing you'd want is to ruin their friendship.

"Goodbye Si.."

Simon never thought he'd hear that nickname out of your lips ever again, he stopped, his feet felt like they were sinking on the ground. Before he knew it, Simon was back on your porch, squeezing you so tight. You tried to pull away but he only held tighter, head rested on your shoulder.

"One last, lovie.. please.." you sigh, your arms wrapping around him, you tried your best to sooth him as your palm runs up and down his back. You felt the sleeve of your shirt getting damp, Simon didn't cry often, but this was different. It wasn't silent at all like you were used to, he was straight up sobbing.

Simon pulled back slowly, you saw his puffed up and flushed face against his pale skin. You felt bad for Simon however what happened is what happened and you were content where you were no matter how much pain the past brings you.

Simon knows you're happy, he sees it, he cups your cheek with his hand. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead like he always used to but he stops himself.

He wanted to be selfish, he wanted you again but he can't do that to Kyle and he knows this would only upset you so just like before, with a heavy heart he leaves.

Simon will forever let that sink into his heart, the only one he's ever love will forever be engrained in his mind. You will always be his favorite girl..

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost x plus size reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost #ghost x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley

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doumadono · 5 months

Note

your writing is so good i regret all the time in my life when i didn’t know ur blog exists sksksksksksksks.... anyway! Sinful Sunday please. may i ask a fic about Wriothesley feeling so horny and his girl is cooking in the kitchen and just BAM bend over the counter? sink? whatever?? fr im a simp for Wrio 🥵 you can skip this if you’re uncomfortable but i hope you can write it 🤧 thank you and have a good day! ✨

SINFUL SUNDAY

In your shared apartment with Wriothesley, you were occupied chopping vegetables, immersed in the rhythm of the music. Life in that moment couldn't get any better.

"Miss me, babe?" Wriothesley growled in your ear from behind, his strong, firm body pressed against your back.

"Wriothesley!" you exclaimed. "Don't sneak on me like that!" You pushed at his shoulder, trying to move him away with limited success. He was away the entire morning, engrossed in crucial meetings and other commitments. In response, you took it upon yourself to prepare a delightful dinner for his return.

His lips lightly tickled your neck. "I just missed you." His fingers skillfully slipped inside your cotton panties you wore under your dress, playfully teasing your folds.

"Stop!" you whispered urgently, feeling his finger slipping into your pussy. "The guards might hear."

"Not if you stay quiet," Wriothesley declared with a smirk, deftly dealing with his pants and belt.

Instead of offering a retort, you moaned as he skillfully pulled your panties to the side, hitched up your dress, and entered you from behind.

"You're so tight, babe," Wriothesley purred into your ear. "And wet. Does it turn you on knowing that at any moment, one of my guards could catch a glimpse?" He thrust fast into you, pressing your hips into the counter, inducing a slight discomfort.

Leaning over the counter, you allowed the Duke to delve even deeper inside. As he fervently pounded into you, soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips, and the brink of your release loomed tantalizingly close.

Unable to contain yourself, you let out a loud moan, laying your front on the counter and hastily pushing aside the knife, chopping board, and veggies. Your arousal caused your pussy to clench a few times around his throbbing cock.

Unexpectedly, a male voice reached your ears. "Your Grace, the Iudex wants to see you!" one of his guards announced, fortunately from the doorway.

Wriothesley thrust into you, covering your mouth as he continued to pound you into the counter; his thrusts gaining intensity. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the guard managed to say, "he mentioned it's something of high importance."

You moaned in satisfaction as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you; you rolled your hips for even more friction.

Wriothesley grunted triumphantly as he spilled his thick seed into you. "I'm coming!" he proclaimed, a mix of a yell and a moan.

Breathing heavily, Wriothesley slumped against you. Wriothesley withdrew his hand, pulled out, and neatly tucked himself back into his pants. You swiftly readjusted your panties and dress, and efficiently tossed the veggies onto the plate.

In a parting move, Wriothesley delivered a quick slap to your ass, a cocky punctuation to the encounter. "You're the best girlfriend I've ever had, Y/N. I love surprising you like that."

You shot him a sassy look over your shoulder. "Why am I not surprised?"

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #wrio smut #wrio x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin smut #divider by cafekitsune

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crithaus · 7 months

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#PERC'AHLIA WEEK Day 7: Free/ Random

You've all seen an old old draft of this with completely different composition a ways back on my blog and this lovely week with it's lovely server inspired me to actually finish it

So behold, the newest edition to the Royal House of Whitestone, the brand new Lady of the house, Lady Vex'ahlia De Rolo. De Rolo!! When Yennen finishes up the words and they have their kiss under the Sun Tree (scaled down for size for my own survival) Vex casts aside her old name and hand in hand they become devoted husband and devoted wife, pulling each other back from the brink and all that jazz, and enjoying this secret marriage snatched from the jaws of the world ending (again). I tried to make it a little less busy than Dalen's Closet and I failed BUT y'know....idk but it's cute so

Now, at this point she isn't technically pelor's champion but I cannot help myself and they're under the sun tree damnit so her future championship is manifesting already, and yea that's all folks, perc'ahlia week was a blast and next year I'll be on time for it so yea yea yea tell me your thoughts in the tags, reblog this and tag i beg you its the only thing that keeps me going artistically, look at what I can bring when you give me attention 😉

(Also Tumblr doesn't release tips til you hit $25 and I'm at like $23.50 does anyone wanna throw me a dolla no pressure tho)

#critical role #vox machina #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia de rolo #perc'ahlia #vex'ahlia #perc'ahlia week #perc'ahlia week 2023

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