#even if it makes their bones creak like an old couch
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Just A Mirage
Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to
pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader
rating: 18+ MDNI!
warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking
AO3 Link
You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way.
While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach.
“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.
“I saw someth-”
“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you.
Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil.
“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely.
He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?”
He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?”
His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster.
The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light.
“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.”
You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog.
The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs.
You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him.
The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation.
You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you.
You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside.
With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you; large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped.
BANG!
The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul.
Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit.
BANG!
Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch.
“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.”
You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs.
“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey.
You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.
“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on.
His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.
“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette.
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doodle-badoodle
#isat#in stars and time#isat loop#loop isat#isat mirabelle#mirabelle isat#isat odile#odile isat#bonnie isat#isat bonnie#my art#art tag#desert art#battling through something artblock-ish burnout-ish#odile... what one wouldn't do for the age spectrum alliance#even if it makes their bones creak like an old couch#loop continues being the hottest bitch on the block#also my brain connected the dots that mira's head bow is the perfect accessory to 'wilt' according to her moods#also you can see lowkey a hc for her dress
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𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮
summary: The good old 'oh no, there's only one bed' trope.
pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader
word count: 3.8k
note: Explicit (18+). Vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V, creampie. No use of (y/n). Nightmares. This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.
“Can you cut it out?” You sigh at the man who is currently and stubbornly laying on the hard floor next to the bed.
It had been raining heavily for the entire day, the downpour so heavy that you couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of you. All three of you were soaked to the bone and freezing. Spirit had been very low in your little travel group. Ellie had not come with her usual jokes and Joel had been even grumpier than usual so stumbling upon the little cabin had been a real stroke of luck. There had even been a dresser with enough dry clothes for all three of you to change into.
You had given Ellie the couch in the living room since that was with the fireplace, leaving the single bedroom for you and Joel.
“Just get up here. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.” You continue, cursing him and his damn stubbornness. The bed is not huge, but it will fit two people finely.
“I’m fine down here. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” He just grumbles.
You sigh, peeking your head over the edge of the mattress to look down at him. “I know you have a bad back and I need you to be well rested and alert, okay.” He tilts his head to look at you. “We both do…” You add, using Ellie to guilt trip him is maybe a little low, but you know it’s going to work and it is not like what you’re saying isn’t true.
“Fine.” He finally sighs, as he gets up from the dusty floor, his knees creaking slightly before laying down next to you, but he doesn't get under the cover, instead laying straight on his back on top of the comforter with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring straight up at the ceiling.
You want to tell him to just relax and get under the covers, but you don’t want to push your luck, so you just settle for the small victory of getting him into the bed, and who knows as sad as it makes you, maybe he really finds sleeping next to you more uncomfortable than the floor.
You try not to dwell on that possibility too much, ashamed of how much that would affect you, so you just get comfortable under the covers instead. Turning to lay on your side, facing away from him as you close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come to you.
“Can I ask you something?” You whisper into the silent room, somehow knowing that he hasn’t fallen asleep yet.
“Sure.”
“It will never get easier will it? Living in this world… I tell myself that it will, that it is going to hurt less with time but… I’m just kidding myself, aren’t I?”
He doesn’t answer for a long time and you start to think that he may have fallen asleep before he finally breaks the silence. “No, I don’t think it will ever get easier.” A short beat of silence before he continues. “But I guess we can hope.”
You sigh at his words. You really do hope so. The two of you are quiet again and you think he might have fallen asleep when he finally speaks again.
“Thank you.” Joel whispers into the darkness.
“For what?” You turn your head slightly towards him.
“For tolerating my bullshit I guess.”
It is the last words exchanged between you before sleep finally creeps up on the both of you.
—
You wake up only a few hours into the night by the feeling of Joel’s frantic movements. He is tossing and turning uneasily and uttering incomprehensible muttered words. You turn around to face him, barely capable of making him out in the darkness of the room.
“Joel” You whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow, making you hover over him slightly.
You watch the distressed look on his face, his eyes shut tight and his brows furrowed. Whispers of some terror make it out of his mouth. Your hand is hovering over his arm, unsure if he would be okay with your touch. But his nightmare seemingly continues. You frown and gently place your hand over his arm, softly rubbing the spot with your thumb.
“Joel.” You speak softly. “Wake up.”
You can feel how his whole body is shaking. He finally opens his eyes, letting out a gasp. His eyes wide and unfocused, clearly terrified of whatever he’d dreamed about, before they lock with yours and his gaze relaxes a little.
“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his rapid breathing is slowly coming under control.
“Don’t apologize.” You frown at him, your eyes are now better accustomed to the darkness and you can see his face more clearly. “I get them too.” You confess dropping your head back on the pillow.
“Do you need anything?” You ask, feeling him move slightly on the mattress.
“No.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.
Silence falls over you, the two of you just laying and listening to your own quiet heartbeats.
“Why don’t you get under the covers?” You finally say, almost a little pleading.
And to your happy surprise he actually does. Joining you under the covers, even though he lays stiff as a board and way closer to the edge of the bed than he needs to. You can live with that, you are just happy that he at least can be a little more comfortable and warm.
“Joel?”
“Yes?”
“You can talk to me, you know? If you ever need it”
A beat of silence.
“Yeah… I know darling.”
Darling. You think your heart skips a beat by the endearing name and you let out a sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Goodnight Joel”
“Goodnight.”
—
You wake again in the early hours of the morning. It’s a slow ease into consciousness, a much gentler awakening than you normally get to have. Your eyes are still closed, and the only thing you currently perceive is the warm safe feeling of complete comfort, still half asleep, you haven’t registered what contributes to this feeling, how Joel is embracing you in his sleep.
Comfortably wrapped in a blanket in a soft bed and feeling the heat of someone’s body against you is a luxury you haven't felt in a long time. The comforting feeling of soft human touch makes you melt into it, and crave it from the very marrow of your bones. You stir slightly, letting out a content sigh as you slowly get pulled out of your sleepy daze, and that is when you realize the position you are in.
Your back is pressed up against Joel’s chest and his strong arm is wrapped around your waist. Your legs are entangled under the covers and his steady warm breath fans over the back of your neck. The two of you must have instinctively reached for each other in your sleep, the presence of a warm comforting body too irresistible, nuzzling you against himself in his sleep.
Your heart skips a beat at the gentle touch, feeling like you are going to cry from the overload of human touch. There is no way you’re gonna be able to part from his embrace without waking him, but maybe you should? Even though you really don’t want to. You feel slightly guilty as you lie and listen to his steady heartbeat
You want to be selfish for a little longer, savoring the warm comfort of Joel’s presence beside you, enjoying how it makes you feel. It feels too damn good after all the years of loneliness and fear. You can’t deny that you are feeling things for Joel. He is an attractive man, there is no doubt there, but there is more to it. The glimpses you have gotten of who he is behind the gruff facade, the man he must once have been, has made you yearn to get to know more of that side of him. The way he always makes sure you and Ellie are feeling safe. The way he over time has softened up a bit. How he sometimes will go along with Ellie’s shenanigans. How he will tell you that he will take the first night shift, but then never wake you so you get to sleep the whole night. You have scolded him for this numerous times, but he still does it whenever he senses that you are just a little more tired than usual.
You try to ease out of his embrace without waking him, but it only results in him hugging you tighter, pressing you closer towards him as he lets out a dissatisfied grunt like his subconscious wants you close. And it is now, as you are being pressed tighter up against him that you feel it, the press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass. You let out a little gasp, as a hot shiver travels from your abdomen down to your now throbbing cunt.
You know that it’s just a physical reaction to have a body this close, he didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, but you had insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.
“Joel.” You whisper, moving your hand over the arm he has around you, gently brushing your fingers over the warm skin, waiting for him to wake. He stirs a little against your touch, but he does not loosen his grip on you. You hold your breath, feeling your pulse throb in your ears as you wait for a reaction. You just hope this won’t make him go back to being as closed off with you as he was in the beginning. You take a deep breath to brace yourself before you turn around in his grip so the two of you are laying face to face. Your movement seems to finally have pulled him out of his sleep. His eyes start to blink slowly as he is pulled out of his slumber, he murmurs your name, voice rough and raspy from sleep and it makes your heart skip a beat.
His eyes are finally opening to look into yours, the warm umber of his irises is so beautiful, you have never seen them this near. His face is so close. You can see every detail, every crease and he is so damn gorgeous. Your mouth is so close to his, it would be so easy to just lean in and connect your lips in a kiss. You feel Joel’s body stiffening as he realizes the position the two of you are in, and you are scared that he will bolt out of the bed and leave you cold and alone, but he doesn’t. The two of you are simply laying in silence for a long moment, looking at each other in the dim room, both of you engulfed by the other, but you finally collect enough composure to break the silence between you.
“Good morning.” You whisper into the quiet bedroom.
“Morning.” His voice is so deep and still rough from sleep. It makes your stomach do a flip. Maybe it is just wishful thinking but you swear that his eyes swift down to your lips for a second. Maybe it’s just time to be brave? You reach your hand up toward his cheek, letting your palm hover about half an inch from his skin. You want him to decide for himself if he is comfortable with your touch. Fortunately, after only a short moment of hesitation, he leans into your hand, exhaling as your palm cups his cheek. You kind of expect him to pull away any minute, but he doesn’t.
“I haven’t slept this well in a long time.” You confess.
“Me neither.” You have never heard his voice this soft before and that is when it dawns on you. This is Joel Miller. Not the man that has had to survive in a world with no hope, or the man that has lost everything that made him whole. Right now you are looking into the eyes of the man he once must have been. And maybe right now you’re the woman you were meant to be, the woman you would have been if your future hadn’t been torn away from you by the collapse of the world. There is something magnetic about it. Like the two of you are being pulled together by an invisible force, drawn together in the early morning bliss, both of you learning into earth other. Your lips brush, a ghost of a touch. He shivers but he is still not pulling away.
“Can I?” He whispers, his soft breath fanning over your lips.
“Please.” You manage to croak out, your entire body buzzing with anticipation.
It is all he needs to hear before he crashes into you, his chapped lips colliding with yours. It has been too long since you have felt the firm pressure of a man’s mouth on yours. You kiss until your lungs start to burn, and you have to pull away to catch your breath. His hand moves down to the hem of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over the warm skin beneath it.
“Is this okay?” He asks, sounding a little unsure.
“Yes, Joel.” You assure him. “Kiss me.” You add and he does, sliding his hand under the cotton of your shirt palming the soft skin of your side. You moan into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss until you no longer know where he starts and you end and you are almost convinced that the two of you have melded into one being.
“You’re driving me crazy.” He pants out as he finally breaks the kiss. All you can manage is to whimper in response as he moves his lips to your throat, licking and kissing a trail to the side of your neck. His hand slowly slides down from your side to the hem of your pants.
“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs into the skin just below your ear, before sitting up just slightly to look into your eyes.
“No.” You shake your head slightly. “Please don’t stop, Joel.”
You roll your hips a little, grinding against his strong thigh, needing him to understand how badly you want this. Something flickers in his eyes and he lets out a filthy guttural groan, flipping you over so you're laying under him.
Your entire body is aflame by his touch, a feral urge for more. More skin, more contact. So you move onto his shirt. The material slightly withered and moth-eaten from the years of being tucked away in a drawer. You pull it off him, revealing his broad upper body. You pause, captivated by the look of him hovering over you. The scars across his skin, the sparse hairs trailing down from his navel to his pants.
You wonder if he shaking because he’s cold or if he’s really just that eager for your touch. But it doesn’t really matter, either way, you’ll warm him up.
He slides his calloused fingers over the sensitive skin of your thighs, hooking them in the waistband of your panties, looking into your eyes. You nod at him, mouthing a ‘please’, spreading your legs a bit further. It is all he needs, an expression of filthy desire flickers over his face as he pulls your underwear down. Letting out a gasp as your soaked pussy gets exposed in front of him. His fingers slide along the insides of your wet lips.
“Shit, you’re so wet. All this just for me?” He almost coo.
“Yeah. All for you, Joel.”
“Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”
“Fuck, want that too.” You whimper.
He gives you a smile, dipping his head down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck before kissing the soft skin under your ear. He makes sure to coat his fingers in your wetness before he begins to tease your clit. You let out a little gasp as he starts to draw slow light circles, but it doesn’t take long for him to pick up his pace and add a bit of pressure.
He teases your entrance, making sure to coat his fingers in your slickless before he slips one of his thick fingers into you. Another is soon added and you sigh at the sensation. He slowly pumps into you at first, giving you time to adjust to his digits, but he is soon picking up the pace.
“That’s right darling.” He mutters against your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”
He is going fast now, using his middle and index finger to fuck you while the ruff pad of his thumb is pressing on your clit and you can’t help but let out a few pathetic whines. He is hitting a perfect spot, so deep inside of you, and you feel your orgasm approaching, finally falling over the edge when he curls his fingers.
“That’s right, just like that.” Joel groans as you clench around his fingers, slowing his pace slightly but still pumping you through your orgasm in a steady rhythm. “Just like that, darling, doing so well.”
He lets you ride out your climax on his fingers until he finally pulls out of you, popping them into his mouth, sucking off your juices with a pleasant moan.
“Fuck, Joel.” You pant out as you finally come down from your amazing high.
“Good?” He asks, a sly smile on his lips.
“Really good.” You ensure him, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Want to make you feel good too.” You whisper, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Fuck, darling. I want to feel you so bad.” He confesses.
“Want that too. Fuck, want that so bad” You pant, letting your thumb slide over his cheek as you admire his handsome face. And you do want him, but more than that, you need him.
He lifts himself from you to strip off his pants and underwear. Your eyes widen at the view of him. His hard cock springs free, throbbing and thick, laying heavy in his palm as he takes himself in his hand. It still looks huge, even in his big hand, so you can’t even imagine how enormous it will look in your smaller one. He pumps himself a few times before leaning down over you again. He guides his cock to your entrance, looking at you for permission, which you give with an eager nod, before slowly pushing inside you, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes. You feel so full, like he is splitting you open with his thick girth. You whimper as you take more and more of his cock until he is all the way in.
“Fuck darling, you’re so warm, so fucking tight around me.” He groans before leaving a firm kiss on your lips. The two of you are laying like this for a little while, letting you adjust to his size until you can’t take it anymore.
“Move.” Your voice is low and rasped. “Please.”
With that, he lifts your legs, making you cross them around his lower torso as he pulls out of you, achingly slow until only the head of his cock is still inside of you before inserting all of it again in one fluid motion. You let out a gasp of pleasure.
He starts out with a slow rhythmical pace. He is giving you sweet praise at first, then progressively dirtier, more lustful comments as he loses himself more and more, his thrusts getting faster and more desperate. He lets out a throaty groan as your hands grab his hair. The way he is now pounding his cock into you, deep and purposefully, makes you cry out in pleasure, your ears filling with his growls and moans.
“Feeling so so good…” He says his eyes clenched tightly shut as he keeps thrusting into you with a savage speed. “I knew you would feel good, but damn.” He groans through gritted teeth. Joel is now moving with an urgency that has you seeing stars and you let out a cry of pleasure.
“Shhh.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you. Ellie is, unlike you and Joel, a deep sleeper, but you would both be mortified if she heard the two of you, not wanting to traumatize the poor girl.
“You are taking me so well.” He encourages. “So fucking good.”
Your arms are desperately clinging to his back. His balls are hitting your skin and his cock is pounding into your soaked pussy, making a filthy squelching noise hit your ears.
The pressure is beginning to build up in your lower stomach, the feeling is making your head go dizzy. He is bringing you closer and closer with every strong thrust of his cock.
“I-fuck… I'm close.” You babble.
The knot in your stomach tightens and tightens until it all explodes inside you. Your walls clench down around him, sucking him in. You desperately cling to him as your climax washes over you, hands on his neck as you guide his mouth down to yours, you need him to kiss you through this. Your breasts are being squeezed against his chest, the feeling of his skin against your sensitive nipples makes you moan into his mouth.
You whine out as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He detaches from your mouth. The panic from cumming inside you is clear on his face. He pulls out, some of his load landing on your stomach, but most of it still inside of you, the sudden empty feeling makes you let out a little whine.
“Shit, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
You know that he is right, he really shouldn’t have done it, but you can’t get mad at him you had been just as caught up in the feeling of him as he had been in you. You finished your cycle only a couple of days ago so you should hopefully be okay.
You cup his cheek, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I think we should be okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” You grin at him.
He visibly relaxes at your words “I’ll make sure to pull out next time.” He assures you and your stomach flutters. Next time. You smile at his words.
“How do you feel?” He asks.
“Good.” You laugh lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I liked seeing this side of you.”
He sighs as he pulls you close. His chest vibrates against you as he speaks. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller/reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller angst
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Morning cuddles
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Wife!reader
Warnings: just fluff.
Summary: Morning cuddles with Carlos and your baby boy.
I wake up to the soft sounds of birds chirping outside our window, the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Stretching my limbs, I let out a content sigh, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath me. As I start to rise from the bed, I hear the creak of the floorboards downstairs, signaling that Carlos is already up.
With a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I make my way downstairs, the anticipation of seeing my two favorite boys filling me with warmth. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I catch sight of Carlos, his messy bed hair tousled in every direction, only in his boxers.
In his arms, our little bundle of joy, our baby boy, rests peacefully, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he dreams.
Before I can even utter a greeting, Carlos sneaks up behind me, his strong arms enveloping me in a warm embrace. I lean back into his chest, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by his love. Together, we create a cocoon of warmth and affection, our little family complete in this moment.
"Good morning, amor." Carlos whispers, his voice a soft melody that sends shivers down my spine.
"Good morning, cariño." I reply, turning my head to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.
We stand there for a moment, basking in the tranquility of the morning, the only sounds being the steady rhythm of our breaths and the occasional coo from our son. It's moments like these that make all the challenges of parenthood worth it, the simple joy of being together as a family filling our hearts to the brim.
Eventually, Carlos releases me from his embrace, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head. With a smile, he lowers himself onto the couch, cradling our son in his arms. I join him, settling in beside him, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.
Our son stirs awake, his bright eyes blinking sleepily as he takes in the world around him. A gurgle of delight escapes his lips as he reaches out towards us, his tiny fingers grasping at the air. Carlos and I exchange a knowing look, our hearts swelling with love for this precious little soul that we've brought into the world.
"Hey there, mi amor," Carlos coos, pressing a gentle kiss to our son's forehead. "Did you sleep well?"
I chuckle softly, running a hand through our son's silky hair.
"He looks like he had the sweetest dreams." I remark, a fond smile on my lips.
We spend the next few minutes simply admiring our son, marveling at the miracle of his existence. He may only be a few months old, but already he's brought so much joy and love into our lives, filling each day with laughter and wonder.
As the morning sun continues to rise higher in the sky, casting golden beams of light through the windows, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. In this moment, surrounded by the two people I love most in the world, I know that everything is exactly as it should be.
With a contented sigh, I lean against Carlos, feeling his warmth seeping into my bones. Our son snuggles closer to us, his tiny hand resting against my chest as if to remind me that we're all in this together. And as we sit there, bathed in the glow of the morning sun, I can't help but feel grateful for the simple yet profound beauty of this life we've created together.
Bonus scene!
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“Morning cuddles with my favorite boys.”
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this is really fucked up but can you write something like your step brother fucking you in front of your parents? 💀
yes. yes I can. 💁♀️💕
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au
warnings: mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, hints of exhibitionism, risky/sneaky sex, choking, dirty talk, praise, degradation, daddy kink, creampie
edited.
"You have no shame."
The words were murmured right into your ear as Jungkook pressed himself into your back. One, little drunken mistake has led to another, and before you knew it you were trapped. Icarus thought he could feel the warmth of the sun and bask in its light without falling. How silly it was of him to dream the wax holding his wings together could withstand the burning heat. How silly it was of you to dream the same the first time Jungkook kissed you.
The flames scorched you, and you landed deep in the possessive arms of the ocean, never to be released. Never to walk on land again, where other people could take your love and attention away from him. As your lips sealed, so was your fate. You belonged to him. His ocean would keep you warm, sated, its floor filled with treasures and gold just for you. You never had to fear its storms or turbulent waters.
Unlike anyone who'd ever hurt you, or try to touch you the way he did. These poor souls were doomed to drown and stay damned forever, their bones serving as a warning and a reminder not to go near the treacherous waters.
His hands felt warm under the blanket, exploring your skin with a loving selfishness. Gentle waves rocking you back and forth.
"Absolutely no shame," he whispered.
His thrusts were smooth, reaching so deep inside you. You couldn't stop clenching around him, wet and hot, making his cock twitch as he fucked you. Panting softly into your ear, he kept one hand wrapped tightly around your neck to help you stay quiet. The couch creaked under you, the movie playing in the background serving as your only saving grace.
Jungkook was tired of sneaking around. Tired of pretending he didn't need you, tired of not being able to put his hands on you whenever he wanted. His mother was right around the corner; her soft humming and the clattering of dishes easily reaching the living room, because the doors weren't even closed. Your father was asleep in the armchair just across from you.
Jungkook couldn't care less.
He lay behind you and grinded into you while you held on to your blanket for dear life. You tried so hard to resist, but the moment he pushed his hips into your ass to hump you, you were a goner.
"Zero consideration for your poor father," he muttered mockingly.
The old man would probably have a heart attack if he witnessed his little girl being defiled, by her step brother no less. Jungkook heard a whimper leave your throat, his movements slowing slightly. He released your neck and kissed your cheek.
"Are you embarrassed?" He whispered again. "Don't- shit. Don't be- mm, fuck. We both know who your real daddy is here, yeah?"
The next clench he felt made him hiss, provided him with all the answers he needed and the motivation to resume his pace. He slipped two tattooed fingers into your mouth and pounded into you faster, the couch too narrow to allow him to pull all the way out. The tip of his thick cock rubbed all the right places inside you, his balls tightening when he felt you suck on his fingers.
"Yeaaah," he groaned softly. "Take it all like a good girl, you naughty fucking slut."
You shivered and moaned, the sound coming out muffled, but not muffled enough. Jungkook shoved his fingers deeper down your throat, instantly shutting you up. His pants were becoming harsher, his breath heavy and hot on your ear.
"F-fuck," he gritted. "Gonna come with me, baby?"
You nodded frantically, your legs tensing, your chest rising and falling unsteadily. Under the blanket, Jungkook tightened his free hand on your abused tit, trying so hard not to forget how easy it would be to get caught. But it was next to impossible when he was fucking you and it felt so good, so good that he just wanted to let go.
"I'm gonna come," he moaned lowly, his lips pressed into your ear. "I'm gonna come, fuck-"
His cock throbbed inside you, your walls squeezing it so tightly he could barely control himself as he filled you up, his cum shooting straight into your twitching cunt. He could feel your thighs shake, your teeth biting down on his fingers. Quiet, raspy ahhhs flowed out of his mouth, higher in pitch for a moment before lowering to something like a grunt.
He stilled behind you, exhausted, pulling his fingers out of your wet, swollen lips. They came out wet as well, glistening with your spit. Jungkook let his head fall down on the couch, his cock still pulsing blissfully inside you.
"Shit," he breathed after a moment. He lifted his head again to press a warm, soft kiss into your lips. "You okay, baby?"
"Yeah," you whispered.
Tenderly, he brushed your hair away from your face. Your beauty never failed to astound him, whether you were dressed up for a night out or just out of the shower. And he couldn't get enough of you, yet it was for many reasons; one of them being the closeness and connection he felt when he was inside you. Safety and pleasure, no storms brewing on the horizon.
It killed him not to be able to show you off. If he could, he'd strangle whoever married your parents. Or one of them.
Ah, so many decisions to make.
He settled behind you comfortably and wrapped an arm around your waist, keen ears quickly picking up on his mother's footsteps.
She peeked inside the living room.
"Dinner is ready! Get your father up, please, I still need to set the table."
Jungkook nodded, lifting himself up on one arm.
"Okay, mum."
She smiled at you both before exiting the room. Jungkook's cock twitched inside you.
"I got them a reservation at a restaurant for tomorrow," he muttered, brushing his lips across your cheek. "Daddy's gonna fuck you all night, reward you for being so fucking good. Yeah? You want that?"
You clenched again, making his breath hitch.
"Yes, daddy," you breathed.
Jungkook bit down on his lip. What his baby wants, his baby gets. It was that simple.
💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @baalsgurl1913 @glowunderthemoon @imnotlauriane @era-genius @silv3rswirls @bucketofhiros @osakis-gf @iceprincessviviane @httpsbts
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homecoming | sam x reader
word count: 3.2k
tags: hurt/comfort , family struggles , reader and sam are married , set somewhere in year 2 (kent is back) , oneshot , intimacy
synopsis: Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.
a/n: i love sam but the allure of angst is too hard to resist!!! sorry babe i still love you 😔
Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.
Your feet are bare as you linger at the entrance of your room. The dimmed light of the living room washes away the darkness of the hour. It's late, the air is cool and damp smelling of night dew—you take a deep inhale. It feels thick as you breathe it in, like smoke is clouding around the room, restricting your breaths.
Sleepless nights were not unusual in your household. Before you married Sam, you hardly slept—the satisfying ache of collapsing into your sheets after a day at the mines was an addiction you couldn’t get enough of.
Now, you earn enough to afford coming home before sunset. No longer having to worry about how you’d afford the next day. And if you are being completely honest, evenings spent with Sam are far more addicting than the sting of a day’s work.
The ache is still there. It comes with the profession. Though not anymore the dull humming ache in the muscles and joints of your arms and legs, but a bone deep ache settled deeply curling around your chest.
Somehow, it stings even more.
It is as if it drags over your heart, catching on every ridge and edge of your bones. Daring to fill your lungs with ichor—hardening like stone around your ribs. No amount of stardrop you swallow can ever relieve the stinging soreness.
The cushions of the old second-hand couch groan and squeak as you twist and turn atop of them. Perhaps as restless as you are. The light flickers—on, off, on.
It doesn’t scare you, but it makes you uneasy. You’re long over the notion the farmhouse was haunted, but nights like these make that conviction waver. The nape of your neck prickles—like a person is staring from behind. Sam isn’t here to tease you about ghosts nor curl his arms around you in mock protection.
He hasn’t been here in hours, hasn’t been present in so long. It feels wrong. It feels like an omen. Your fingers find the back of your neck, brushing over the vulnerable skin.
You hold a tassel cushion tightly to your chest. Your knuckles whitening with the strength of your grip on it. The strength of your heartbeat is so loud you’re convinced it would be heard without the pillow to muffle the sound.
Little Vincent is sound asleep, snoring softly away in his dreamland. He looks like the epitome of innocence under the quilted blankets of your bed. It's soft, worn and covered in stitched cartoon-y lions and tigers. A temporary parting gift bundled up in his dinosaur backpack from jodi. Before he came to live with you and his older brother.
The separation was painful. there were tears—for both him and for his mother.
(Sam stood next to you then, gripping at your hand so hard you felt it prickling with numbness. You didn’t dare look up to see the tears you know are there, the crystalline tears dripping down his lash line.
It would’ve made the teardrops in yours fall over too. You’d stay strong for the both of you.)
The entrance door to the farmhouse creaks open and you immediately know it’s him. Relief floods your whole body—to your fingertips to your toes. He's safe, and home at last. You stand up and hurry to him, throwing the pillow to the ground, before the door creaks shut.
The air goes still, calm before the storm. The anticipation before potential terrible news.
(You expect there will be. You can tell by the way Sam slumps, like the weight is physically bearing down on his shoulders.)
Sam is still at the doorway, slumping over you when you wrap your arms around him. He smells of sweat and the cloying scent of rubbing alcohol—something must’ve happened, you think. It smells like the clinic.
The paper bag in his hand loses from his grip, it falls unceremoniously to the ground with a dull thump. You pay it no heed, mentally accounting to pick it up later. Though you note that it lands right over your ‘home sweet home’ doormat. Fitting.
“Sammy.” you greet him with a chaste peck on the cheek. He barely has the energy to hug back, more so stay steadily upright on his feet. you both sway slightly, suspended in the tranquility of the moment.
You try again, slowing the movement of your lips. “Welcome home, my love. you there?”
His lips move against the skin of your neck, a whisper of a greeting. It is enough for you.
Sam retracts his face from your jaw. There are blue-purple eye bags under his eyes, like bruises. The trademark twinkle in his brilliant green irises have dulled to nothingness. He looks so unlike himself like this, older than his years and so unbearably tired.
And you wish, with all your heart, to take his aches away. To wash them away like ink in water.
You pull him into the living room with you, the skin of his wrist enclosed in the firm guiding grip of your fingers. He's fragile like this, this sunshine of a man reduced to a shell of his usual demeanor.
He trails slowly behind you, silent. You say nothing, either; choosing to focus on the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps padding against the floor. In the living room, you dim the lights to a mere whisper of light.
These days, when he comes home, you’ve built some sort of routine.
You drag him down to you, spread lying down on the length of the couch. Your thighs frame his hips as he melts into the warmth of body. He lays on top of you, his cheekbone against your chest. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, as he presses his ear to the epicenter of your chest—the sound of your heartbeat quieting the swirl of thoughts in his mind.
You gently remove the woolen beanie nestled on his head—revealing the stringy oily mess of hair under. A sign of how little care he has been sparing himself after his father’s homecoming. You feel your lips downturn into a frown. He hasn’t even been using that hair gel you like to tease and groan about.
(You lied when you’d say you hated it. You don’t, never did.
You miss it. You miss the things that make him, him.)
You don’t hesitate in running your hands through the softness of his hair. Your fingers scratch gently on his scalp, eliciting a soft sigh from your weary husband. Eyes watch raptly as his shoulders unwind and ripple. The tension in them melts away with the deft caress of your hands.
Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Like a knife twisting. You love him, you love him.
Moments pass, the silence is almost comfortable when you ask, speaking it to the silence of the room. There’s a wavering lilt in your voice reassuring him. You aren’t going to push him for an answer. He doesn’t need to respond. Him being safe, home and warm in your arms is all you ever want. All you’ll ever need.
“How are they?”
(The first night, you and Sam stayed the night in his family home. squeezed in his twin bed with Vincent curled up by his ribs. The little boy couldn’t bear sleeping alone that night, not with the anxiety of his father being back making him pace a mile a minute.
The air in the household had shifted that day.
In the dead of the night, the fire alarm went off—a blaring loud beeping sound from the kitchen. Totally harmless, a malfunction. A disturbance to sleep more than anything.
Except it was not.
You still remember the blood-curdling scream that came from Jodi and Kent's room. The panicked sobs of Jodi as she tried to calm her terror stricken husband.
You remember the way Vincent clung onto you, like a koala to a tree. You cupped your hands tightly over his ears—he didn’t need to suffer the consequence of it.
Sam removed the fire alarm and Vincent from the house the next morning.)
His voice is hushed when he speaks. A pin could drop and be more clearly heard. “Mom's… getting better.”
Not getting worse than she already is.
You plant a kiss on the crown of his head, lips soft and adoring on his skin. You ache to take his burden, to take his share of suffering.
It hurts sometimes, to be right beside him but feel so faraway. Yet like this, feeling every curve and edge of his body—you can convince yourself that it doesn’t.
“Is Vince asleep?”
“Yes,” you reply, tucking a blond curl behind his ear. His head unconsciously tilts to the room where his younger brother rests. Ever so protective of him even like this.
Continuing you say, “He was looking for you,” you thread your fingers through the short blond strands at his neck. Sam untenses slightly in your arms, his arms going limp at your sides. “He's been fidgety lately. Restless.”
“He usually is.” his feeble attempt at a joke. Though the rasp in his voice only makes it sound resigned. You purse your lips, eyes tracking back to the cedar wood of your bedroom door on the other side of the room—and the sleeping child behind it.
You stroke Sam's hair, thinking. “More so than usual.”
(You know why. He knows too. Kent wasn’t the same when he returned from the war. He was vulnerable, not the fragile type but vulnerable in the way a ignited bomb threatened an explosion.
Vincent wasn’t either—grown much more from that thumb suckling toddler when he left.
“My dad is coming home soon,” Sam confides in you on that day on that day on the beach. Him standing a few feet away from the shore line, and you; next to him.
“This isn’t how I wanted him to grow up,” his voice cracks with vulnerability. “I—I want him to have a better childhood than I did.”
“He will, Sam. He will.” I know you’ll make sure of it.
His eyes are red-rimmed and raw when he looks at you. All you wanted was to wipe that anguished expression off his face.)
He is silent. All is silent. Tranquility is like a honey thick syrup poured over your chest, smeared all over the expanse of your body. The soft sounds of your synchronized breathing is the only sound you can bear to hear. It makes your eyes droop, the lethargic feeling dulling your senses.
Your hand reaches for his, intertwining your palm with his long-fingered one. You relish in the familiar feeling of his calloused fingertips, earned from afternoons spent with his guitar. His skin is warm, warmer than yours. You give his hand a tentative squeeze, he squeezes back.
“Mom told me to say hi to you both for her,” he tells you, his breathing slow and deep. “She misses him, and you. She’s coming to visit as soon as she can.”
“Vince misses her too,” you sigh, craning your head forward to peek at the top of his head. “It's affecting him, I can tell. Penny's getting worried. She tells me he hasn’t been himself at school.”
All that Sam can manage is a deep intake of breath, then a softer resigned exhale. There isn’t much nor enough for him to say. Your free hand goes to smooth down his back. The muscles there are tough—bunched up and tense.
He shifts between your thighs, baring down heavier on your pelvis. Even as tired as he is, Sam is restless. Always has been, whether it be on his skateboard or with his guitar. You ignore the growing ache in your lower back—it is not your moment, but his. The warmth of his weight on top of you overpower any discomfort you have.
Twirling the stray curl at his neck, you finally ask. Fingers featherlight against his shoulder. “How… is he?”
Sam stiffens above you, the lean line of his body rigid. He’s clearly distressed with talking about his father. You suck a breath through your teeth, knocking your leg gently against his, giving your silent push for him to continue.
“I can't even lie,” he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away. “It isn't good, Doc Harvey says dad’s got PTSD from the war. It's triggered by loud sounds. Remember the time he woke up because of the fire alarm?”
You nod, curling your fingers around his. You try to provide him any semblance of comfort—to reassure him. You love him, always.
It's painful to see, to watch what he’s going through only by the sidelines.
Sam looks up at you from your chest, eyes blurry with exhaustion. His jaw tensing ever so slightly, you see the patchy blonde stubble starting at the jut of his jaw. The wrinkle in his brow growing more prominent at the mention of his father. It's a fresh type of wound, raw and open. You dance around the topic, like poking a sleeping lion that threatens to attack at any given moment.
“We’ve transferred him to stay in my old room. He’s been holed up there most of the time. The nightmares are keeping mom up. He wakes up screaming most nights." Sam rasps, squeezing your fingers. He speaks lowly against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the heat of his body bleeding through it and into you.
His voice dissolves into a pained crack when he speaks. “It sucks.”
“It will get better, we can get through it,” you sit up slightly, elbows bent behind you. Sam's been out the whole day. You assume he must be starving and tired. “Do you need anything?”
Sam doesn’t let you up, though. He tugs you back down under him with the gentle pull of his arm. You still in his arms, looking down at him.
“No,” he pleads. “just… stay with me, okay? Let's stay like this, please.”
You swallow, nodding. “Yes, of course.”
You wish you could ease his worries. You wish you could tell him that it’ll be alright and he would believe it.
You love him, more than life itself. Like you are a planet that orbits around him, the sun. You show him so everyday—and will continue to do so with everyday that will come.
You just wish he’d be more selfish with you.
If he falls, you’ll piece him back together. Glue his bones together with your hands, relying on the familiarity of his being. Anything, you’d do anything.
The matching mermaid pendants resting over his and your collarbone symbolizes that.
“I want to help you, sam. You take all this burden up on your own. please?”
He sits up, back hunched over you. A dim shadow of him filtered over you. You follow him, like you can’t bear to be apart from him.
“You are, you always have,” Sam softens, gazing at you so reverently you could sob. He looks at you as one gazes at master paintings, like he is in wordless awe of you.
The room is dark with night. If you strain your ears hard enough, the cooing of the owls filter through the cracks of your windows. The moonlight is scarce, you can barely see the expressions painting his face. Though, you’re sure your expression is as lovesick as his. Practical hearts in your eyes as you stare.
“Looking after Vince is more than I could ever ask for, honey.” he whispers, pinching the hem of your sleep shirt between his thumb and pointer finger.
“No Sam,” you murmur, taking his face into your hands. your hands frame his face, warming the cool skin of his cheeks. Desperation fills every movement in a plea for him to understand. “I meant you.”
You inhale, relishing the smell of sweat, mint and rubbing alcohol on his skin. The scent smells so comforting, and so familiar.
You hope he finds that same solace in you as you do with him.
“I want to take care of you,” you say more firmly, stroking him on the skin of his brow bone. “Won’t you let me?”
He stares at you, enveloping your hands with warmer ones. You sigh contentedly at the feeling. They sear into your skin, warming you with the righteous heat of his devotion.
To you, he is the sun and you have the sun right in the palm of your hands. You know he won’t ever burn you, nor leave your skin red and raw from his intensity. His rays are gentle, a featherlight whisper of a kiss on the expanse of your body.
But the sun never stops shining. It is steadfast in its duty to provide. You worry, will he explode in a grand supernova or crumple into a black hole?
Either way, you will never allow it. You’d rather douse the sun in the water of the ocean to hold him in your arms. Maybe then, he can finally rest soundly.
You feel his thumb rub back and forth on the back of your palm, silent and considering. The brush of it melting you against him like a contented cat. A smile graces your lips, you can wait.
Though you do not need to. Sam turns his head and kisses your wrist. His nose bumping into the crease of your thumb. You feel honeyed warmth drip down your heart, collecting in the cavern of your chest.
That's all the confirmation you need.
(There are some days his words fail him. The days his mind is bursting with ideas, so much so it’s difficult for him to convey a singular thought.
That's alright. Perfect, even. Sam has always been better at expressing himself through actions.)
“I love you,” you kiss his forehead, then over each of his eyelids. You want to kiss every inch of his skin until there is nothing left to cover. “so, so much.”
You press your lips to the corner of his. Opting to speak your promise against his skin, to tattoo your undying love into the smooth expanse of it.
Sam tilts his head, causing his lips to brush completely against yours. He presses them firmer against yours, the taste of spearmint gum heavy on his tongue. You lick the seam of his lips—let me in, let me in.
“I love you too. more than you know,” he gasps, tearing his lips away. His breath puffing warmly against the skin of your cheek. He declares it as if he’s running out of breath, and it is his final words. A willing sailor drowning in the deep ocean that is you. “More than anything, more than life itself.”
You press your forehead against his. Your eyes meet the depthless green of his. The twinkle is there; flickering and faint but present.
Love is what brought him to you. It’s what keeps bringing him home to you every night. You want to be his refuge, his comfort, his partner for life.
Your eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Share the burden with me, Sammy. I can take it.”
At the end of the day, he is all you want. All that you need. If it takes him time, you won’t mind. even if it takes centuries.
Sam captures your lips again. Murmuring his agreement greedily against you. You love him, you love him and he loves you.
You are the one he comes back to, his spouse. The greatest love of his life. Home isn’t the farmhouse you’ve built a life in—
It’s you, always has been you.
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could you please write a johnny smut? where he's dominant and praises her (doesn't degrade ofc) but it's really loving sex and its after he yells at her so sort of like makeup sex? sorry if this is too specific
Word Count: 1,429
It was currently 9:00 pm at night and I'd been at the dingo for over 2 hours alone. Johnny and I had planned a date, but he had yet to show up. I called him on the pay phone over 3 times but no answer. The waitress walked up to me, with her face laced with pity but sympathy at the same time, "Um...were about to close for the night, hun"
I looked up at her sadly, tears almost welling in my eyes. I refuse to cry, not in front of this random girl. I put down ¢15 for my cup of coffee and walked out of the diner. I decided to walk home to try and get some fresh air to calm myself down.
Once I got to our shared apartment, the door was already creaked open. Anticipation filled my bones as I dared to open up the door fully. I sighed in relief when I saw that it was Johnny in the living room. As I looked at him longer, I began to get angry again, "Johnny! Where have you been?" He woke up from his daze and looked at me in somewhat shock.
"I've been here, what do you mean?" My mouth formed into an "O" shape before stomping in front of him on the couch, " What do I mean? I have been at the dingo for 2hrs, waiting for you!" He looked at me in disbelief and shook his head, "why can't you just lay off" he replied in a murmur.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek, this whole thing is so stupid. I just wanted one night "What did you say?" He stood before me, shaking his head in anger, "WHY DON'T YOU JUST LAY OFF!" I looked at him in utter disbelief, letting out a sob.
His face softened when he saw me cry, "Baby-" is the only word he could get out before I ran into our bedroom. I lay down and cried until I was weak. Johnny has never done something like this before.
After a while, I got up and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. Wow, I look tragic. I decided to take a shower and get changed, maybe wash my old makeup off.
I walked out of the bathroom to the smell of food wavering in the air. Johnny never cooks. I walked into the kitchen, following the amazing smell. When I arrive there, I see Johhny making pasta, my favorite. He's so cute.
I walked up to him with a slight smile on my face, "Hi Johnny" He turned around, almost looking surprised I was even talking to him. It wasn't long until he had a pleading look on his face and, on his knees, "Baby, I'm so so sorry for yelling at you, I was just tired. I love you so much and I'm sorry I forgot about our date night. I looked down at him, basically begging for forgiveness.
A smile formed on my face before saying, "I forgive you Baby" He got up and turned off the stove before walking back over to me. He gave me a smirk before pushing me against the wall and kissing my neck. "Johnny please"
He sucked a hickey on my smooth skin before pulling away, making me whimper loudly, "I love you so much so let me show you." Fuck, he makes it so hard to ever be mad at him. Johnny pulled both shirts off to start working on my breasts.
He sucked at the flesh of my right breast while taking my left nipple between his fingers. He then brought his tongue down to circle my areola just right. I moaned loudly at his actions, "baby baby please" my words became slurred from the overwhelming pleasure. He groaned at my fucked-out expression, "I love your tits so much, I love everything bout you, your thighs, your hands, and especially your pretty pussy."
I leaned in to connect our lips eagerly and johnny immediately accepted my offer. He instantly forced his tongue between my lips to play with my own. I pulled away to resume my work but on his neck. I was about to give him a hickey before he stopped me, "Sorry baby, but I'm in charge today. I'm gonna show you how much I fucking love you tonight." He pulled me into our dining room and set me on the table before lowering to his knees.
He kissed down my stomach, leaving a line of hickeys all the way down. Johnny fiddled with the buttons on my pants, then proceeded to my zipper. He rubbed me over my underwear, feeling the wet spot in the middle, "Oh baby, you're so pretty like this for me." I moaned at his praise.
He pulled my underwear down my legs, kissing my inner thighs in the process. It feels like I'm burning up right now. I was lost in my thoughts until I felt Johnny's tongue swirl my clit, "Shit, don't stop please" He began prodding two fingers at my entrance, smirking at my whining and writhing for him, "Who knew what such bad words could come from your pretty mouth. You'll always be my good girl, right?" He softly curled his fingers inside me, massaging my g-spot.
He continued his work on my clit, sending harsh suck every now. Johnny thrust his fingers arduous, sending waves of fulfillment over my whole body. "More please, can I have more?" I begged him for another finger. He looked up at me and removed his fingers altogether, "You can have anything you want tonight" He entered 3 fingers into me, making me feel euphoric.
I moaned loudly at his actions. "You're so pretty when you're taking my fingers." he cooed at me. He started to drift his tongue down to my opening, making me whine, "Johnny please" he sat himself up to look at me, lovingly, "Please what, doll" I whimpered at his pet name, "Can you fuck me know please, I want you so bad."
He removed his fingers and sat up to unbutton his jeans. Johnny always got worked up from giving me head. He removed his underwear swiftly, his dick springing out. His dick was hard, bubbles of his precum forming at the opening.
He rubbed his tip across my arousal-coated pussy, eliciting a whine from my lips. "please!" He slowly entered me halfway, making me feel full from only half his length. He leaned down for a sweet kiss before starting his thrusts slow, speed gradually increasing. "Johhny, Can you hold my hand, please?" I said in a whine.
He looked down at me before replying, "Aww. Does my sweet girl want me to hold her hand?" I whimpered at his words before nodding eagerly. He grabbed my hand, squeezing lightly with each thrust. I reached my other hand down to rub my clit but Johnny moved my hand, placing it on his bare chest, "I'm sorry but I'm in charge tonight, babydoll." he whispered with a small pout resting on his lips.
My hand scratched at his chest making him moan lowly. Johnny brought his hand down on my stomach, pressing down lightly making my euphoria increase. He slid out almost fully before thrusting back in fully, making my belly bulge. "How's it feel, baby?" I let out a pornographic moan, "So g-good Johnny! Fuck."
He chuckled at my reactions and leaned down to give me a sweet kiss. "You're such a good slut...my good slut" I moaned way too loud at his praise. God damn. Johnny put his fingers into my mouth and continued to move in and out of me, picking up his pace. I let out a muffled moan of "Im so close!" around his thick fingers.
I clenched repeatedly on his girthy dick, whimpering as my high approached. "Your pretty pussy is gripping so tight I'm gonna cum baby," he said, out of breath. I squeezed his hand tightly as I came all over him. Johnny moaned as spilled himself into me. He gave me one last kiss before laying next to me on our table.
Johnny looked at me in my eyes, leaning in to kiss my cheek lightly< "I love you doll. I'll never yell at you like that again. I beamed at him, kissing him on the lip this time. "It's ok, I love you too. Y'know if this is how it's gonna end, you can yell at me anytime, Johnny Cade." We looked at each other before bursting out laughing.
Hope you enjoyed this! So sorry it's kinda late, I'm busy with school and competitions!
#johnny cade x y/n#johnny cade imagine#johnny#johnny cade x reader#johnny cade#the outsiders smut#the outsiders 1983#steve randle#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#sodapop curtis#two bit mathews#dally winston
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⋆ ✶ ✷ 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔩 ✷ ✶ ⋆
Gender neutral reader and Tord find a kitten
All day, you’ve been in bed. It’s very cloudy, the sound of rain pattering on your roof and windows filling your ears. The bed seems so warm compared to the intense storm happening outside. You yawn, stretching out your tired bones. With a sigh you stand up, taking your blanket with you as it’s way too cold to go without it.
Your socked feet walk across the hard wooded floors, which occasionally creak under your weight. Humming quietly, your fingers pry open the fridge for about the twelfth time that day.
“…I need to go shopping.”
You sigh, taking milk out and pouring it into a mug. You put it into the microwave with a soft clatter and set the time for thirty seconds. You look at the aggressive rain storm happening out side. Luckily, it isn’t bad enough to knock out your power. But it’s pretty damn close.
The trees are swaying, the leaves attacked by the water coming too fast at them. The house itself is making loud whoosh noises from the wind hitting it. But all that noise isn’t drowning out an unmistakable noise…Meowing. A high pitched, shrill meow.
Quirking your eyebrow, you lean over your sink to look out the window above it. Scanning your backyard you see nothing. But then it comes again. And again.
“…what the hell..?”
You mutter under your breath. A strong pair of arms wrap around your waist
“What is it?”
Your boyfriend, Tord, says behind you with that pretty accent of his. You turn around, and as you open your mouth to speak the meow sounds out once more. His eyebrows raise and his smug smile gets wiped off his face. He lets go of your waist to look out the window.
Tord’s eyes scan your backyard with a catlike ability. But like you, he doesn’t see anything. He keeps looking through.
“There has to be a cat out there. There’s no way in hell that wasn’t a kitten.”
Tord says, gripping the windowsill. You place a hand on his shoulder
“I’ll go check”
You smile, but he immediately shakes his head. He takes your hand and kisses it
“No love, I will. I don’t want you to get soaked”
Tord smiles and before you can protest he pecks your lips lightly, walking out after. You sigh and shake your head, muttering about ‘that man’. You take your warm milk and sip on it.
Sitting on the sofa, which is one of his inventions, you wait for him to return. Through one of your living room windows, you can see him looking through every possible hiding place a cat could be in.
The unmistakable sound of water hitting your floor tells you that your boyfriend is back inside. You stand up and see him with drenched hair, which tugs a frown on your lips. Although, for some reason, he has a grin
“Why didn’t you put your hood up? You could catch a sickness, or worse, hypoth-“
Then there’s a loud meow. But this time, it’s from his arms. He’s cradling a tiny orange kitten in his arms. You let out a gasp and run over to his side.
“No way! There was actually a cat!”
You get a grin that matches his. The kitten is soaked and it’s eyes are closed. Judging by it’s size, it must be at least a few months old. You take the kitty from Tord’s arms and hold it in your warm arms.
“Go change.”
He laughs.
“Bossy.”
You’re too busy to retort back. A parental feeling washes over your body. You need to protect this baby. It’s tiny eyes open, they’re a gorgeous sage green with small speckles of a lighter color. Though it doesn’t seem to register anything, as it’s eyes close again.
“Oh, honey…hello..”
You murmur in a baby-like voice while scratching behind it’s ear. You take it to the kitchen and start drying it with a hand towel, it seems too sleepy to fight back or even purr. After that you sit on the sofa and hold it close to your chest so it’s nice and warm. The couch dips beside you and a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. Your head instinctively rests on Tord’s shoulder.
He chuckles while scratching behind the cats ear, the fur being surprisingly soft for a kitten who’s been outside for who knows how long. You smile a little more. The kitten seems to be in a state of being half-asleep, it opens its eyes and does a tiny jump when it sees the both of you so close to it. The cat wriggles out of your grasp and jumps down off the couch, backing away with a tiny hiss.
You and Tord’s eyebrows raise, you crawl on the floor and he kneels beside you.
“Hey, hey…shh..it’s okay…”
You whisper, trying hard to not startle the cat again. Tord stays silent, staring at it. He moves a little closer, still kneeling on one knee. With a flourish he extends his finger.
“det er greit lille pus, jeg vil ikke slåss...”
(it's okay little kitty, i don't want to fight...)
Tord mutters in a smooth voice, moving his finger a little closer. The kitten hisses again, but it’s so small it’s really not that scary. He puts his finger directly infront of the cats mouth, which causes it to bite him. Tord doesn’t even flinch though, staring at him. Theres an air of kinship between him and the small kitten. Slowly, the cat lets go of his pointer.
The corner of Tord’s mouth tilt up. He gently scratches under the kittens chin, which causes it to relax a little and step closer.
“…animal whisperer”
You murmur jokingly, although your words ring a bit of truth. Tord snickers and picks the tiny furball up with one hand, bringing it to his chest. You lean against him and gaze at the kitty. Gingerly you reach your hand out and pat the top of its head, which causes it to purr and tilt its head into you.
“It likes you too babe..”
Tord murmurs, looking at you with a soft smile. You chuckle and lean your head against his. You stay there for a few minutes, breathing eachother in while the sound of rain and purring mix together with your hearts.
Eventually, Tord pulls you down on the sofa with a small hum. The kitten rests between his chest and yours. His arms are around you and yours are around him, your bodies warming both eachother and the bundle of joy sleeping between you. His forehead presses more firmly against your head and he kisses your lips.
“…I love you.”
Hope you enjoyed this little one shot! If you sent me in a request I promise I am working on it and it’ll be out soon, I just felt a burst of inspiration and didn’t wanna waste it. I also didn’t do the whole fic in this font because it was harder to read.😓
This isn’t proofread btw lol, if there’s a spelling error or grammar mistake please tell me!
- xoxo, Artemis
#edd eddsworld#eddswolrd#eddsworld#eddsworld tord#fanfiction#fanfic#future edd#matt eddsworld#reqs open#request#matt ew#red leader tord#tord x reader#tord ew#ew tord#tord#tord fanart#future tord#ew tom#ew tori#tom ew#edd ew#tom eddsworld#tom x reader#x reader#matt x reader#dead fandom
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FNAF: fairy AU fanfic of @ayyy-imma-ninja fairy Eclipse
Sick oc, death of a hawk, mention of blood and cuts, some cursing, fairy Eclipse is NOT my character, hurt fairy.
Eclipse had used this older farmhouse to keep out of the rain a few days ago, it seemed to be while kept and redone but no one seemed to be living here, the temptation to burn it down was squished when he found a way in and fell on a weird rectangle plastic box with buttons this made the bigger magic box turned on showing all different animals with facts about them he found himself sitting on the soft couch watching the magic box till the storm had passed and he didn't want to leave after that. But a few days ago, 5 humans came and ruined his fun cleaning up the place and seemed to be moving boxes in, they left soon after so he left looking for food for a while coming back only to find there are new humans there again. Eclipse noticed watching from an oak tree grumbling about not being able to watch the magic box.
Are you sure you want to be alone? Her mother asked as they finished setting up the old house for her to stay for a while.
Yeah, I need time for myself to think alone about this and it’s not like it’s forever, and I have the sheriff's number on speed dial if anything happens, and the air here is better than the city-smoked fill poison that has been polluting my lungs lately.
I know I know I just love you ok and you better call me every day! She shouts, hugging her daughter tight enough for her to feel her bones creak.
Ok. Love you too Mom she said patting her mother back trying to keep a brave face as she stood in the driveway watching the red car pull away down the rocky drive.
The loving moment made Eclipse's stomach turn but he was intrigued by the car humans had come a long way with their toys. Watching the big red machine kick up dust. Only for his eyes to catch the human that was left behind, she had freckles like someone he knew but her deep green eyes were different... He waked as the girl waved till the car was out of sight and took a shaky deep breath. How odd for some reason, Eclipse found himself following the girl as she walked into the forest. It seemed the more she walked the shakier she got tell she got to the small creek she fell to her knees, her arms wrapped around her side hugging herself tightly as she bowed her head, short brown hair getting pulled in the slight current the creek had, and screamed she screamed so loud like a wounded animal a dyeing animal something he had never heard come out of a human as she sat in the rocky, grass filled edge of the creek tears running down her nose making ripples in the water. Till her voice seems to go out her back shakes as she sodded alone in the forest.
Eclipse was struggling to just leave her, that scream reminded him of his own. He had followed her to give her a scare, maybe get her to leave the house so he could watch the magic box! but now he didn't know what to do, his wing fluttered as he decided to just leave, but a shriek of a hawk and the sound of its wings right behind him changed his plains before he could even turn sharp claw wrapped around his chest and wings, squeezing him as he feels his wings rips by the sharp talons as the beast wings shoosh around him, he growled his claws swiping at the hawks talons his fire burning the bird he heard the birds shriek of pain ringing in his ears and a felt himself falling with it then nothing…
The girl looks up from her pity party of one hearing the hawk shriek and thrash in on the ground she gets up slowly walks over gasping holding a hand over her mouth sees the hawk with what looks like burn marks on its chest one side of its face and wing look bend in the wrong direction from its fall, she had heard about the fire that happened two weeks ago but this looks like it had just happened the bird still smoking. A few leaves on fire around it and just looking at the poor thing there was no way it was going to live, but then she saw something lying on the ground by the dying hawk she picked it up away from the trashing bird's talons and it looked like a fairy? This was a joke, she had asked for a sign not whatever this was! But as she looked at the little odd creature that was bleeding in her hand as the hawk went quiet and still she couldn't just put the little thing down and head home, so she curled her fingers around the warm creature and headed back to the old farmhouse as she dried her tears.
Rushing into the house and putting the fairy on the marble countertop under the kitchen light she could see the claw mark on the poor thing's middle and rips on its big wings that she had gently made sure she didn't fold when she put him down, and there was blood on the back of its head, she just stared for a moment taking him in, the body was half dark brown like the bark of a tree, the other side orange, almost like a Halloween themed doll, its mouth hung open showing off its sharp teeth it had claws to match raggedy and torn cloak shirt thing over its top half and dark red and orange striped pants that looked ashed covered and slightly burned. All and all the poor thing looked like a bloody mess she moved to her medicine cabinets pulling everything she could get her hand on out and putting it around the unconscious fairy thing.
Cleaning the wounds was easy with some Q-tips with warm water on them to clean off the blood and gently trying to see if there was anything like dirt inside the wounds was hard to see but her sewing kit magnifying glass came in handy there. Once that was done she put some Neosporin on the wounds. Then whispered cussed out the gauze as she struggled to cut it small enough to tie around the fairy but she managed to wrap the gauze around the fairy's belly and leg from the hawk's apparent attack, it was a little worrying at how limp the poor thing was but it was still breathing. After that she looked at its wings. The edges looked tattered but that could just be how they were there, however, the three cuts from the talons were clean lines through the wings. Digging around her medicines she found new skin liquid bandages and it was worth a shot the stuff was pretty much glue so she gently applied the new skin on the wing being careful to hold the two pieces together and not glue into the table and holding it for a few minutes till it dry and do it again to the other cut on his wings he only ever made a light hissing sound which made her jump out of her skin but he didn't wake. Once all his wounds were taken care of she made him a little bed out of a soft blanket and put the smallest ice pack out of her fridge she could find under it for the head wound. She left him on the table away from anything flammable besides the blanket he was on, since she doubted the bird just burst into flame the odd creature had to be the cause...
“What a good start to this week instead of unpacking and thinking about what little option you had left you bringing a weird creature into the house that you are pretty sure somehow set a bird on fire smart move” she mumbled to herself opening the windows hoping the thing would wake up and flee out the window, cleaning up the medicine putting it all back in the cabinet, she hoped it was something her mind's made up in her panic of the bad news, but as she glanced over and yep the Halloween themed fairy still there. She sat in the dining room, a spot where she could glance up and see the bundle of blankets and the tips of the fairy's wings. She pulled out her notebook mindlessly sketching and doodling as the time slowly moved forward unable to unpack worried shed wake the thing. The clock ticking seemed to tease her about how long she had left here, so she put on some music to drown out the ticking and temptation to toss the clock outside in the yard.
She was lost in her sketchbook and music not noticing the movement in the kitchen as the fairy woke up feeling something cool on the back of his head. It felt nice dulling the ache he could feel there. He felt weak, S-sunny? He called softly before he snapped back to reality with a gasp sitting up quickly only to hiss holding his aching side his head throbbing at the sudden movement where was he? He thought his eyes scanning what he could see, a familiar kitchen hearing quiet music and his hand he felt cloth not skin looking down he found a soft white cloth wrapped there and on his leg, his wing ached, and looking at them he saw cuts and some kind of shiny clear something on the cuts holding the torn wing parts together. What happened? He thinks back remembering the girl and then… a bird? Did he really lose to a stupid bird? He growled Looking over he saw the girl, it seemed she calmed down and was doing something with a book away from him he saw the open windows he slowly got up with a hiss holding his head feeling like his brain got scrambled he fluttered his wings and hissing at the ache it caused no flying yet he stumbles over to the edge of the counter and shouted at the human to come over here.
She almost jumps out of her skin and hears bells suddenly over her music she looks around before spotting the fairy thing standing with its hands over its mouth like it was shouting at her but she only hears bells, she gets up slowly, umm i i can't hear what you're saying you sound like windchimes she said coming over to the table slowly. Then she hears a voice that sounds male and growly “Hey kidnapper can I get some food!”
She chuckles out of all the things to say, well seems you are doing better she says walking past the island into the kitchen opening the fridge pulling out some strawberries and a piece of cooked chicken pulling off a small piece and getting a medicine cup filling it with water putting it all on a small saucer before putting it on the island for the fairy. Hopefully, you're okay with spice the chicken has some heat to it, she said watching the fairy confidently walk over the saucer and sit down to eat, watching her as she watched him. You look like you have been through hell, fairy? She said the last word as though it was a question he looked up at her nodding
Got a name? Or are you just going to eat my food after I bandage you up and leave without introducing yourself? She asked
“You first crybaby he growled” with his mouth full,
“Crybaby?... Where are you watching me?” She asked but he didn't answer her the petals on his head twitched a little which was odd she sighed not getting an answer from him she shook her head no. “I remember reading somewhere that it's a bad idea to give your name to a fairy first and I help you instead of letting that dying hawk kill you. I think it's the least you could do is tell me your name.”
“Eclipse” he growled glaring at her “Zoe” she all but purred happy to get a name for the odd little fairy.
Oh what happened to the “bad idea giving your name to a fairy?” eclipse chuckled standing up and dusting himself off after he finished his food.
“Well I know yours so I think it equals out right?” Zoe asked with a shrug
“I don't know, is it? I could have lied about my name” Eclipse chuckles with his Cheshire grin
“So could I.” Zoe said, almost bopping Eclipse's pointed nose but yanking her hand back when he tried to bite “Sorry, it's just your... Cute”
“Am not!” eclipse shouts little flames circle his balled fist as he huffs glaring at her, her eyes widen but not in fear like Eclipse thought they would but in amazement as she seems to looking him over again.
“So you are the reason the hawk was bbq?” she asked her hand coming closer but a sharp glare and a show of teeth got her to stop moving closer “sorry sorry,” she said leaning back so you are a fire fairy?
Eclipse or black sun fairy take your pick of a name eclipse huffed crossing his arms and glaring up at her
“You don't like humans do you?” Zoe asked
“What do you think?” he growled his wing fluttered and he hid a wince
“You're the one that called me over” she shrugged “If it makes you feel better I won't be here long, so don't start liking me little firecracker.” she giggled, patting the side of his face gently with a finger pulling back quickly before he could snap at her. She backs away from the table as he shouts about how he will kill her as he stoops his foot. Little sparks of fire flicker from his hands him “So angry that's not how you talk to people eclipse.” she said leaving the island and going back to her sketchbook on the dining table letting him throw a tantrum on the marble table where he couldn't light anything but the blanket on fire, and it seems as soon as she thought that she smells fire and see the blanket has a small flickering flame on its corner and the fairy grinning at her as she rushes over smoothing the small start of a fire with the rest of the blanket really? Really? You had to burn the blanket, not a ‘Please can you come back? No straight to arson with you? She asked, she didn't shout or freak out, just made sure the fire wasn't going to start again before looking at the fairy standing by the blanket looking confused.
“I didn't think about that” he huffed crossing his arms
“Course, so you got me to come over. What do you want, little fairy?” Zoe asked as she stood there, Eclipse huffed and grumbled kicking at the smooth marble table with his bare feet before looking up at her. Can you take me to the magic box that talks about wildlife? Eclipse asked
She stares at him for a moment thinking magic box magic box…., you mean a TV? She asked holding her hand out for Eclipse to jump onto, he stared at her seeming to be shocked that she would trust him not the burn her after he just lit the blanket of fire, he slowly climbed on and sat on her palm and she carefully took him over to the living room rested her hand on the coffee table for him to get off turned on the TV and found the Animal channel, “I would let you on the couch but I don't trust you not to burn it know that you have set that poor blanket on fire.”
“What? But I did that because you wouldn't come! I won't burn the couch” eclipse huffed
“No, you have not earned enough trust to be allowed on the coucaaaieh” she yelped as he bit her finger she as gently as she could dumped the fairy out of her hand and pulled her hand up but Eclipse stubbornly held on like a dog with a rope toy ok let gooooo! Zoe said her other hand coming up gently running her finger down his back making him let go and she quickly pulled her hands back away from the fairy leaving him stuck on the coffee table for the moment since his wing still hurt too much to fly. How do you think biting would change my mind? She asked shocked that he bit her not that it really hurt but he had bitten down hard enough to draw blood.
“Just die!” eclipse growled turning away from her to watch the TV but she noticed that his red cheek seemed to be an even darker color. Maybe he's embarrassed? There was a documentary about snow leopards, and the soothing voice of the narrator filled the awkward silence.
“Working on it, I still need to find a pretty urn first.” she huffed taking the paperwork that was beside the fairy before he could get any ideas. Did the petals around his head just move? She watched him slowly turn around
What? He asked looking back at her, what? She asked with a shrug her eyes scanning over the paperwork in her hands holding her index finger out to not get blood on the paper too lazy to go get a bandaid right now eclipse growled looking back at the TV
“Awww does the little fairy care about me?” she giggles knowing she was pushing his buttons she watched little flames flicker and die in his hand as he breathed deeply
“No, I don't like humans, remember? What are those papers for?” eclipse asked seeing some big words that he had no idea the meaning of on that paper as she flipped through the bundle
“This is either the nail in the coffin or a miracle, I just don't know if I want to fight anymore. I am tired of this long battle…” she said which just confused Eclipse more
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll spill my secrets as soon as you do.” at this eclipse turns back to the TV “nevermind” and they calmly watch the documentary about snow leopards in silence telling zoe leans closer to the table her finger gently rubbing the back of eclipse head your head ok? It seems like you hit in when you fell, you want an ice pack she asked as he froze up for a few seconds before he swiped his claws at her finger. Making her pull her hand away as he got up, moving away from her and telling her not to touch, she took it as progress since he didn't try to bite her this time, and she didn't feel a bump on his head so that was a good sign. As the TV switch to a show about sea turtles she noticed Eclipse's head bopping she giggled slowly getting up and walking back into the kitchen getting the slightly burned blanket and coming back without saying anything she just gently warping the blanket around him before laying back down on the couch looking at the tv like she didnt do anything as eclipse looked over at her before snuggling into the blanket. she watches him out of the corner of her eyes as he slowly nods off, she notices that his wings disappeared, must be a fairy magic thing she thought. Once she is sure he is asleep she sighs seeing how he is lying, and gently moves him to lay more comfortably lowering the volume on the tv she yawns and stretches heading to her bed leaving the fairy on the coffee table trusting him and the fire alarms to not let the house burn down.
Wake up to the birds chirp and not the blaring scream of the fire alarms was a good sign as Zoe got up and ready for the day almost hoping to walk into the living room and find it empty and the fairy just be a dream, but as she walks down the hallway she hears him mumbling in his sleep, as she got closer she saw him curl up a look of pain on his face as he mumbled she went to the kitchen not stupid enough to try and wake him by touching him, coming back with a wooden spoon in hand hearing him mumbled “moon, sunny” before she gently started talking to him and gently poked him with the wooden spoon and was glad it wasn't her fingers as he jumps up with some fire swirls around him as he growled his claw digging into the wooded handle as he started at her with red eyes if looks could kill ‘sorry i you seemed like you were having a nightmare’ she watched his huffed his eyes slowly changing color back to orange “a bad nightmare want to talk about it?”
“No”
“Cool breakfast?” she asked bringing her hand closer to him, surprised then both when he climbed on. her thumb gently rubbing his back as she walked she smiled feeling him lean closer for a moment almost relaxed then tensed up and leaned away with a growl she didn't acknowledge that anything that happened but stopped not wanting to push her luck. Just gently put him down and started cooking. Only to see Eclipse on his tip toes trying to see what she was doing. If you promise not to bite me or set me on fire you can sit on my shoulder while I cook eclipse. She said not turning to face him
….
She almost thought he was going to walk away or try and fly down to the floor but then she heard the smallest sound of him saying ok. She was amazed by how warm he was as he sat on her shoulder, legs crossed, one hand holding her shoulder, the other a piece of her short hair, “you smell like a campfire.” she said as she finished cooking
“Is that a bad thing?” Eclipse asked she could hear the smile in his voice as she put him down and made their plate omelets seem like a good breakfast she thought as she gave Eclipse his share on a small saucer
“No, but the ashes and soot that you are tracking around is a problem so you need new clothes and a bath or should I start calling you a soot fairy? This earned a loud groaning complete with his tongue sticking out and head tilting back making Zoe giggle which in turn made Eclipse mad as he shouted about what was so funny. His claws failed to scratch the smooth marble island
She giggled oh nothing just eat before your omelet gets cold she said with a smile the paperwork from last night sitting in an envelope signed and ready to be mailed she was giving this last change a shot because the sign she asked for seemed to appear right when she needed him even if he was a feral little thing…
(Bonus/the stupid idea that popped into my head that made my dyslexic brain spiral down into making a whole character and background story of how Eclipses met her. This is after eclipse and Zoe have been ‘friends’ for a little while and something happens that makes his brothers and the gardener meet Zoe because of course eclipse knows where his older brothers are and has been keeping track of them. I hope I got eclipse personality right and you had fun reading and it's not a bunch of gibberish lol)
Around the table is tarped up, and there is a garden hose running from one of the windows to the table. The Gardner shakingly holding the hose watching eclipses, Zoe sitting at the table looking relaxed with one of those metal flat cookie baking sheets in one hand and an oven glove with fingers on just in case a fight broke out, to hopefully lessen the burns and bite marks if she had to grab eclipse off one of his brothers, though moon had doubts this humans could move fast enough to stop any of them. They had decided to try and talk this all out with the human's help. Inside so no one could fly off or just attack and run as the house was close up and all of the fairies were standing at the table. Sunny had been the one to come up with the water hose idea worried about the house getting damaged. Eclipse moves away from Zoe about to start talking, already moving his arms around a little as he walks closer to the Moon, Sun, and Lunar. The Gardner panics squeezing the handle of the hose only to get sprayed in the face as Zoe had blocked the water with the baking sheet making the water go everywhere but the table her hand moves blocking Eclipse's path as she looks over at the Gardner that had fallen out of their chair in their panic and smacks then on the head with the pan “you want an early grave dumbass?”
“Language! It's not nice to hit people!” Sunny shouts from behind the moon
“It's not nice to try and spray people with water either, it was like they were trying to piss off Eclipse right off the bat.” Zoe huffed, rolling her eyes she barely tapped them. They were fine.
“Language!”
“Oh dammit, this is going to be harder than I thought.” Zoe huffed rubbing her head already feeling like she going to get a headache as the gardner picked themself up of the floor know wet and thoroughly embarrassed
“Language!”
“...dammit a bad word?” Zoe asked confused.
angry sunny noises, eclipse cackling and the Gardner is stumbling through an apology.
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Saying I love you after a fight (Joel Miller x reader)
Month: January
Word count: ~1100
Warnings: None
Notes: I haven't written anything in months, so consider this my very shaky attempt to dip my toes back into the writing pool. It's not a masterpiece by any means, but I'm proud that I actually managed to sit down and finish it. Not beta read in the slightest
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There's a quiet creak when the front door opens in the other room. The sound easily penetrates the haze of sleep, despite the low volume. Years spent sleeping in unsafe places have conditioned you into being a light sleeper and even though you're safer now, the habit still lingers.
You blink your eyes open in the dark, seeing next to nothing in the sparsely furnished bedroom. The darkness became so much darker once electricity was no longer a common occurrence, and light pollution was nothing but a very distant memory.
The following seconds feel like forever as they tick by while you wait for the next sound to give you clue about whether or not to reach for the knife on your bedside table. But then you hear the low rumble of Joel's voice as he says goodnight to someone in the hallway, and you relax briefly, but not completely.
The fight from earlier is still fresh in your mind, the echo of the slammed door still reverberating through your bones. You wait, not sure if Joel will actually join you or if he's still angry enough with you to opt for a night spent on the couch.
You had known there would be hell to pay when you'd decided to climb that old scaffolding, disregarding the knowledge that nothing was ever as sturdy as one hoped, nowadays. But the door had been blocked, you and the others had needed to get inside, and digging through all that rubble would have taken up way too much time and would have caused way too much noise.
The choice had been between trusting old wooden planks and risking a swarm of infected coming their way. So you'd chosen the planks.
It had been a calculated risk, regardless of what Joel had said when the others had come carrying you back, your ankle badly sprained from the fall after the rotten wood had suddenly broken under your weight, just as you were reaching the top.
He had been furious, his hands shaking with held-back anger as he rolled the bandage around your foot.
The yelling had started soon after, the two of you arguing in a way that you never would have allowed yourself to do if there hadn't been fortified walls between you and the infected outside of camp.
It had felt good to yell. Less good that Joel refused to see your point of view. And the opposite of good when he eventually stormed out of the apartment, knocking over a chair in the process.
You'd hobbled over to pick it up when you could no longer hear the stomp of his heavy boots out in the corridor. You'd envied that he got to be the one storming off. You'd been pissed off too, had wanted to make an equally dramatic exit to prove it. Because you knew that if the roles had been reversed, Joel would have made the exact same decision you had. He would have been up on that scaffolding too when it broke. He was just too fuckin' stubborn to admit it.
Now, hours later, he's come back. And something like relief spreads in your chest when you hear the bedroom door open and, a moment later, you feel the mattress dip on Joel's side of the bed.
Neither of you speaks, even though you know Joel knows you're awake. Neither of you has ever been able to sleep through the other one crawling into bed.
It's a King size bed so there's plenty of room for the two of you to have your respective spaces. Right now, you're acutely aware of every inch of distance between you.
The silence is thick enough to slice through with a knife and you realize that unless either of you breaks it, no one is getting any sleep tonight. You almost think it would serve the stubborn asshole right. Almost. But in the end, you decide to be the bigger person and so you pick up the proverbial olive branch and reach it across the canyon of space between you.
”How did it go?” you ask, despite not actually knowing exactly what Joel had done during his hours away. You figure that's less important. You just want him to speak. There's a couple of more seconds of silence, just long enough for you to start wondering if maybe Joel is still too pissed for a truce. Then you hear him let out a slow exhale as if he's been holding his breath.
”Uneventful,” he replies.
”Uneventful is good,” you say. The bandage around your ankle is a good reminder of the opposite. Before Joel can make the same connection and have the fight from earlier refueled, you continue. ”What the Hell did Tommy have you do out there anyway. You smell like a forest fire.”
That draws an amused huff of air out of Joel, and you count that as a win.
”Just a good ol' family barbeque.”
”Sounds cozy. Invite me along next time?”
”Depends. Are you gonna fling yourself into the fire?”
You feel your hackles raising as the tension comes creeping back into the room at the jab. Forcing yourself to ignore it, you take a deep breath before speaking calmly.
”No. Might fling you into it though.”
Joel doesn't answer immediately and you can tell he's considering his options. Finally, he sighs like you're the sole source of all his grievances. It's not entirely fair. You wouldn't consider yourself responsible for more than 60%. Tops!
”How's the ankle?” Joel asks instead, seemingly changing his mind about rekindling the argument between you two.
”Not great,” you answer, seeing no point in lying. Joel would know. ”But the bandaging helped.”
”I'll see about finding you some painkillers in the morning,” Joel says, and you know him well enough by now to hear the apology in his voice.
”I can make you breakfast before you leave,” you reply, hoping that he hears the same apology in yours.
”...That'd be nice,” Joel answers.
The silence that falls next is void of the tension that had hung so heavily between you just a couple of minutes ago. It's only broken by the soft even breaths coming from Joel's side of the bed. You listen to them as you finally relax again.
You're certain Joel is asleep when you whisper ”I love you.”
You turn, facing away from the man sharing your bed as you hug the corner of your blanket close to your chest with a slow exhale.
Then Joel shifts and a strong arm curls protectively over your waist.
”I love you too.”
#Year of Creation#Year of saying I love you#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#my writing
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Evening Quiet
A Curtis x Honey Drabble.
1.5k What makes a house a home? The people.
Warnings- mention of sexual activity.
Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist
Yes you were glad to be home.
Vacationing was always nice, getting away to see someplace new was always exciting. Florida proved to be just what was needed to battle the winter chill with its sandy beaches and endless amounts of sunshine that for you and Curtis seemed a blessing.
After battling the freezing ice and snow of Duluth, Florida’s weather seemed like summertime to the two of you.
There were nights of firepit and beers in the backyard, lazing around on a yacht that Frank was currently working on, some shopping to be had, and the food, you were greatly missing the taco truck right about now.
But all that said, you were glad to be home. Right now home wasn’t your third-floor apartment in downtown Duluth. It was curled up on Curtis' couch, watching a television documentary about a haunted house in Pennsylvania where the ghost team started talking about the history associated with the residence. Outside, big heavy flakes slammed against the window like they were trying to escape the cold too, but the clear glass on the picture window was keeping you and Curtis safe.
Wrapped around your legs was the afghan off the back of the couch, Curtis’s hand was resting on the curve of your waist, his fingertips lightly grazing the bit of skin peeping from your pajamas you had spent most of the day wearing and nearby the small wood stove he used for the first floor chill was popping once in a while as the wood provided them with sleep inducing warmth.
Your head was laid down on his thigh, the very motion of his fingers and the warmth under the blanket making your eyes slip close once in a while in complete blissful calm.
It was settling in the way that this felt like where you were supposed to be at the end of your day. You didn’t even realize that the simple motion of letting your eyes close and give in to that feeling would make your breathing grow heavier and you completely lost track of the show.
Curtis noticed though, because that last bit of tension seeped from you and finally you let yourself sink into his lap. He could feel the warmth of your breath’s sink into the fabric of his black jeans while sleep seemed to sneak up on you.
He couldn’t resist letting his fingers slip further down, without any intentions other than to rub at your hip, the soothing sensation making you stretch a bit in a moan at the comforting touch he provided. His gaze stayed on the tv for the most part, being interested in the findings and history of the old homestead that actually reminded him of his own home.
He wondered where his house's ghosts were wandering around tonight. He had heard a few creaks earlier on the stairs, which might be from the cold snapping the house's old bones outside, but it was easier to let himself think it was Wilford and Lillian appreciating what he was doing with their loved home.
It certainly has all come back to life since you came into the picture. His weekends no longer consisted of him all alone, but you were there with your endless amounts of sewing projects and script rewrites for your drama club, working on your next science-themed project for your classroom, the scattering of your books from the living room to the upstairs nightstand where you never seemed to bring them home to finish reading and he never mentioned it simply because he liked to read them too before going to sleep. His little Honey had some erotic reading tastes that he fully intended to use on you.
Like the recent chapter, he read the other night while you were back at your apartment gave a very detailed description of using paints in foreplay. He chuckled softly to himself imagining the painting the two of you would make, hung up for no one to know.
His amusement with his thoughts must have woken you, cause you stirred just a bit, shifting to roll to your back and look up at him, blinking sleepily at him for a moment. “What’s funny?”
“Oh, just thinking about how good you would look covered in paint while I was having my way with you.” Curtis said matter of factly while watching the ending of the show with his eyes half shut like he was also starting to fall asleep.
You blinked at him a moment while his gaze drifted almost lazily down to where you were laid on his lap, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes giving away his amusement at the way your face heated up. Your brows twisted for a moment in thought as you clearly recalled reading something very similar. “Did you read my book?”
A grin cracked on his face with a suggestive arch of his brows that said he clearly did and you gasped when he swooped down to steal a kiss from you. “Honey, you want me to kiss and tell?”
You gave a teasing little snort as you went cross eyed staring up at him. “They are for educational purposes.”
Curtis straightened back to a sit, his fingers dancing along your neck and massaging into your hair at the base of your scalp, it felt so good that you let yourself get slightly distracted by it. “Oh I know you are getting quite the education from it. I can’t wait to reap the benefits.”
You again felt your face heating up, knowing exactly what things he read in your books. All the kinky little smut fests that had supposed plot lines leading up to all of them. Your hands covered your face with a groan, peeking up between your fingers. “You weren’t supposed to learn my dirty secret.”
Curtis clicked the tv off, his features turning thoughtful at your words. “Why is that, were they something you didn’t want me to see Honey?”
“No, no, I don’t care. I’m just shocked you even took an interest in my pile.” You gave a little shrug while giving a yawn and cuddling in closer, enjoying the quiet of the wood crackling in the nearby stove and the snow gently hitting on the glass. “But…” You went a bit quiet, trying to sort through the masquerade of feelings it brought up in you that Curtis wasn’t making some snide remark about your ‘porn’. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it if he was mentally filing away scenes from it. Curtis as usual was patient, not rushing you to spit out what you were trying to say. “I like that you saw them and you’re okay with them?”
Curtis already knew what was on your mind, you had questioned him a few times about things that he honestly never would have thought about. That your ex was such a controlling asshole to you that you still worried about him actually being mad if you did something you thought he wouldn’t care for. His features softened towards you. “Honey, I am always going to be okay with whatever you choose to read and want you to. You don’t ever have to hide them from me. It’s like the toys, I encourage it.”
Any apprehension seemed to melt away when you got that confirmation from him, moving to ease yourself up. Curtis's arms shot up in a stretch while giving a yawn. “But tonight, I’m crashing early so no smut reading for me. Gotta do snow cleanup before leaving for the yard in the morning.”
Your hand reached out for his, helping him off the couch. “Meet you upstairs?”
“Go on up, I'm just gonna tend this fire and make sure the house is closed up for the night.” He tugged you in close for a second to steal a kiss and then released you towards the stairs.
As you started up the old creaky stairs, with the various pieces of artwork and old photographs of his family hanging along the hallway leading towards Curtis’s bedroom, your pile of sewing materials piled on the bottom step amid some of Curtis's clothes that needed patching, to the kitchen where you could hear Curtis opening the cupboard above the stove that held all your teas and honey, out of the corner of your eye you saw the cover of one of your books on the coffee table your boyfriend takes sneak peeks at as well as his reading glasses perched atop of the cover, this old house with its stories that you were starting to become a part of and the man who would follow right behind you because he always tried to do what he said he was going to do, these things were starting to feel like home more then that drafty old apartment you had crashed landed in after you restart your life to get away from your ex.
This was becoming where your heart belonged.
#curtis and plus!sized reader#curtis and honey#life is short so make it sweet#curtis x reader#curtis x plus sized reader#curtis and reader#curtis everett au#snowpiercer au#chris evans characters#soft fluff#curtis everett fluff#amber writes#sweater writes
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Finally starting to write something for these little bastards. But, I need feedback.
The gist: Human Lucifer (Louis, ew i know) is haunted by Alastor. AU type deal.
This is the unedited, very quickly written up first chapter. Do we fuck with it? Or should I brainstorm some other ideas?
Chapter One – Moving Day
This was totally a worthwhile purchase. Most definitely.
Sure, it was a lot creepier in the dwindling light, and without the bubbly overbearing energy of his realtor. Still, a beautiful property. Really it should’ve been saved as a historical site, but who was he to complain?
Gorgeous property, all while being a hop, skip and a jump away from his daughter’s new business. The perfect fresh start that his therapist had hinted at him desperately needing, a change of pace and environment to compliment his new rekindled relationship with his kids.
Refreshing new scenery. Or at least that’s what he repeated endlessly to himself, a stark contrast to the unease that settled deep in his bones while he maneuvered around half-unpacked boxes.
It hadn’t seemed this empty and dreary when he’d been signing all the paperwork. Good fucking god, this was probably the most silent building he’d ever been in. Concerningly quiet. Shouldn’t there be creaks? Birds outside? Anything?
He was surely overthinking all of this. What could be wrong with a little peace and quiet, really? This house, his new house, was on the edge of town. A little silence was to be expected, and working himself up over finally doing something good for himself was counterproductive.
Charlie calling! What a fantastic fucking distraction, yet another thing to add to the list of things he appreciated about her.
“Char! Hey!” He still needed to work on that greeting.
“Dad! Hi!” Oh man, she was just like him. That pulled on the heart strings. “How’s moving?”
“Oh good, yeah, yeah. Super good. Great.” He rambled on, eyes shifting around the boxes surrounding him. “Well, it’s a work in progress. We’ll get there.”
“Yeah.” She laughed back. “I was thinking – I mean, if its okay with you? Vaggie and I could come help out tomorrow, make you some dinner?”
“Oh, absolutely. Dying to meet this gal I keep hearing about, aha-ha.” Good lord, could that have possibly come out more awkward? This did not get easier, despite what he had been assured. That was fine, Charlie never seemed put off, and that’s what mattered. Right? He just had to win over this girlfriend of hers.
“Sounds good, I’ll --- Shit. Sorry, dad, I’ll text you. Duty calls.”
“Course, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Dial tone. Ouch, but fair enough. She was busy, he had things to sort.
Which was precisely what he spent the rest of his evening doing. Throwing his entire focus into carefully and swiftly dissecting piles of boxes. He’d even gotten as far as unpacking and setting up the television. Really not his thing normally, but when it had come up in conversation with Charlie she’d all but insisted upon him buying one.
So, he was giving in. Flicking on something random. Anything to drown out the sudden onslaught of random noises that he was doing everything to avoid thinking about. Old house. Here were the noises he was asking for earlier. That’ll teach him not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Thud. Sliiide. Clack, clack, clack, creak.
Whatever. Just the house settling, nothing some good ol’ TV couldn’t drown out. Certainly it wasn’t somebody going about their business in the study just down the hall, that would be ridiculous. And, at this point in the evening, Lou had pointedly checked that room numerous times. He had confirmed with his very own eyes that it remained, thankfully, uninhabited.
It was completely fucking normal, actually, and Lou wasn’t remotely nervous about it. He felt so normal about it all that he decided to drift off on the couch, background chatter from the screen still buzzing on. Because who could stop him? It was his house and he could doze wherever he pleased, and it did not mean he was scared. He was a grown ass man, after all.
Click, click, sliiiide.
Yep, he was closing his eyes now. Dead to the world, oblivious to strange noises lurking about.
Hard to tell precisely how much time had passed from the time he drifted off until he was eased into a state of just barely conscious, still dazed by the twisting and nonsensical dream he’d been lulled into.
It was still dark. A soft noise easing him further from his dream, but it was nothing soothing.
Hardly even familiar.
Something repetitive. Metallic, almost? Akin to a slicing of meat, the sound echoing out from the kitchen.
There was only a matter of seconds to processes the sudden and nauseating stench of blood and viscera, enough to have his stomach flipping.
Then, there was a deafening, loud, wet slam from the kitchen. Like a corpse being tossed about.
That had his heart in his throat and feet on the ground before he could take another breath.
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Help from your friends.
Moonknight x Teen reader PLATONIC.
Genre : Oneshot.
Pairing : Steven Grant x teen reader, Marc Spector x teen reader, Jake Lockley x teen reader.
Summary : Your friends help you build a shelf.
Sitting on the ground, legs crossed, you cast an annoyed glance at the plans spread out in front of you. No matter how hard you read and reread them, examine the many diagrams in detail and even look on the internet, you still hadn't managed to assemble this damn shelf, even after a good hour of assembling and disassembling the many parts.
You groaned for what felt like the hundredth time today and threw up your arms in exasperation. Handiwork was obviously not for you.
You liked to read more than anything and you had decided to buy one of those pretty book shelves from IKEA to store your many books. You were tired of leaving them lying around in piles bigger than you. At night, you'd trip over them sometimes and then have to pick them up and pile them up again as you rubbed your sore toes.
You lay on your back, crushing your tools and some building plans, and rubbed your eyes. You almost didn't hear the knock on your apartment door. You indicated that the door was unlocked in a loud, weary voice. The door creaked open, then slammed shut, and you heard familiar footsteps crossing your hallway.
"Hiya love !"
You straighten up hastily, a big smile on your face.
"Hello Steven !"
He smiled back at you with the same energy then turned to the window and you knew he was listening to his two alters.
"Marc and Jake say hello too."
"Hi guys !" You waved awkwardly, not sure if they could see you.
Steven held grocery bags in his hands filled with what appeared to be sweets, sodas and chips. He often brought you snacks and books when he visited you, and you smile thinking that he spoils you a lot. He put them on the couch and walked over to you as you rose to greet him. He hugged you tightly, then released you, his gaze lingering on the mess that littered the floor of your living room.
"What happened here ?"
You fidgeted a little, embarrassed.
"I was trying to assemble a bookshelf, but it turned out to be more difficult than expected,” you confessed.
"Why didn't you call us ? We could have helped."
Without waiting for your answer, he frantically reached into his shirt pockets and pulled out his pair of rectangular reading glasses. You smile as you watch him put them on his nose and sit on the floor, in the same spot where you were a moment ago.
He began rummaging through the many plans and brought a few to his face to examine. You tried in vain to restrict your laughter to his old man's attitude. A chuckle escaped your lips and you couldn't stop it. Steven looked up from the papers he was holding and gave you a questioning look.
"What is it ? What's funny ?"
"You," you replied with a mocking look.
"Me ?" He says pointing his index finger to his chest. "Why ?"
"You look like a grandma."
You burst out laughing at his shocked look. He rolled his eyes playfully and returned his attention to his work.
~~~~~~
Half an hour had passed. Steven now had the same desperate look you had earlier. His curly hair stood on end from every time he'd run his hand through it.
You sighed in annoyance and stood up, your leg bones cracking after all the time you'd been sitting on the floor.
"Ummm... You want tea ? I'll make tea."
You stomped towards the kitchen without waiting for his response.
"Hey, Steven. Give me the body, you're messing it up !"
"I'm definitely not going to give you the body !" Steven exclaimed. "I know you'll end up getting upset and throwing everything away. They don't need that," he added, watching you bustle behind the counter, a kettle full of water in your hand.
"What ? I would never do that!"
"Stevie is right, amigo. You can't keep your cool," Jake sneered, joining the conversation between the british and the american.
You heard the man arguing with his reflection for a few more minutes, laughing. Eventually you saw the body straighten up and lose its shy and friendly look to be replaced with a tense body and a deep frown. You knew it was Marc who were fronting now. You watched him shake the blueprints and tools and mutter annoyedly for a few more minutes before the whistle of the kettle startles you.
~~~~~~
"That doesn't make any sense ! And why is it so hard it's just a damn bookshelf !"
"I told you, hermano."
"Oh shut up Jake !"
"You're never gonna make it if you keep arguing like this !" said Steven wearily. "Now shut up and focus on that bloody shelf before they come back."
Marc stared at the shelf he had partially built. He took a sip of the tea you had brought him and concentrated on his work while you picked up your books scattered all over the apartment, ready to put them in their new location.
"C'mon hermano, give me the body. I can do it faster than you."
Five minutes later, the large white shelf stood against the wall with a proud Jake leaning on it.
"How in the hell did you do that ?!" Marc spat in an annoyed tone.
"I always said I was the smartest of us," Jake replied smugly with a smirk. The american answered him with an irritating growl.
"Well done Jake !" exclaimed Steven.
"Jake, you did it !"
He turned to you, who had just come out of your room, a stack of books in your arms, and a wide grin. You put them on the floor and examined the shelf with an admiring look.
"Yeah, it was nothing, don't wor..."
He was interrupted by your arms hugging him tightly. Surprised, he did not immediately return your hug.
"Thanks guys. What would I do without you, hm ?"
"You probably would never assemble this damn shelf," he sneered, his arms around you.
You giggled in his neck and released him. You could sense it was Marc now.
"Do you want to do a movie night ?" You asked hopefully. You were always very happy to spend time with them and you also wanted to thank them for helping you.
"Of course kiddo. Why do you think we bought snacks ?" he said, pointing to the bags Steven had put on your couch earlier.
You grinned and thanked him.
"So, what do you want to watch ?"
"Harry Potter."
"AGAIN ?!"
"Yes, again. Now sit down and shut up. I'll go get the snacks Steven bought."
He sat down on the couch, grumbling, and turned on the TV. He complained a lot but you knew he loved doing movie nights no matter what movie you chose. You also knew he secretly enjoyed watching Harry Potter. As long as it was with you, he would be happy, they would all be happy.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
I wanted to try and write a oneshot for once, I hope you liked it ;) Sorry for my English 😅
Moony🌛
#moon knight#marvel#moonknight series#platonic#steven grant#steven with a v#steven grant x teen!reader#steven grant x you#marc spector#marc spector x teen!reader#marc spector x you#jake lockley#jake lockley x teen!reader#jake lockley x you#gender neutral reader#moonknight x teen!reader#reader insert#platonic reader#teen reader
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Take a Break. (Leon Kennedy x James Sunderland)
Heyo people! Hope you're all doing well :3
I have a couple asks in the mailbox which I will get to soon, for now I come bearing fanfiction. I wrote this a while ago and had posted it to AO3, so I thought I would repost it here as well, why not. Errm no warnings for this one I don't think, word count is a little over 2k
Obligatory friend tags (moots if you wanna be added to the tag list just ask): @linminty
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A week had already passed before Leon returned home. Another mission went sour, although he wasn't gone as long as he usually would be. This job was unforgiving, it seeped into your bones and ate away at you until there was nothing left but a husk. Leon was a husk. A husk of a man who once yearned for justice, a man who once was determined enough to take on the world. Now he was a man who barely had enough will to get up in the morning. He felt like a sleeper agent, totally detached from everything around him, the days passing by until he was summoned for whatever he had to do. Like clockwork, almost. The same old process that was wearing down on his tired bones.
But, now he was home, standing in the doorway of his shared apartment as he stared silently into the darkness. It was very late, and the space felt darker than usual, more empty. But it was the same as when he left it, save the few smaller items shifted around. He had owned this large apartment for years, but every time he returned to it, he felt more and more like a stranger. It was clearly lived in, and he of course knew that, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a visitor in the only place he could ever seek comfort. And seek comfort he did. Leon felt the mishaps and inconveniences of the week bear down on him heavily, he wanted to rest. Without second thought, Leon quietly closed the door and dropped his bag, not bothering to change clothes or even shower, he didn't have the energy for that. 'Maybe tomorrow, not tonight.' He thought. Not wanting to waste any more time, he stripped down to nothing but his boxers and the shirt he had underneath his work uniform, sleep weighing at his eyelids. Something deep down told him that he wouldn't get any sleep tonight, but that was okay, he didn't get much sleep anyway. All he wanted right now was rest, and he knew exactly where he was going to get it. Slowly padding his way towards the shared bedroom, Leon contemplated just going to the couch so as to not wake his partner up, but his yearn for comfort enabled him to keep walking- plus, James would probably get upset to find out he slept on the couch. And so, Leon walked up to the door and slowly turned the handle, not wanting to make too much noise. The door creaked at first, but made no further sound as it was opened all the way. Leon peered into the room, and there on the king sized bed was James, seemingly asleep, quietly snoring as his chest gently rose and fell with every breath he took. Leon, for a moment, forgot about everything that went down that week. His mind had cleared and his nerves felt calm for the first time in a while, but only for a moment. He hung his head low as a deep sigh left him; he didn’t want to wake up James. But, although his brain told him to just turn around and go to the couch, his sore body made its way to the bed. James was slightly sprawled out under the covers, and Leon quietly laughed to himself. It was often where they would both wake up practically on top of each other, they’d go to sleep curled up neatly before ending up in a position they weren’t in before. To refrain from waking James, Leon crawled into the bed, not bothering to go under the covers as he laid his exhausted body down, the warmth and comfort almost unfamiliar to him. And, although Leon wished he could hug James, cuddle into his side and listen to his heartbeat as he fell asleep, he opted to simply lay on his side, back facing James as he nuzzled into the soft pillow, feeling exhausted, yet so restless. As he closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come to him, he felt the bed shift, and he internally cursed. ‘Great, I woke him up…’ He thought,
“You’re home…”
James was clearly very sleepy, his voice husky and his movements sluggish, but his voice was so full of love. It made Leon’s chest swell, hearing how much James truly missed him, and how happy he was that Leon had returned home. Leon couldn’t help but smile as he felt James wrap his arms around him, pulling him in close, holding him tight. “Yep, I’m home.” Leon responded, leaning back into James and resting his head on his shoulder.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You would’ve seen me in the morning, wouldn’t you?”
“I haven’t seen you in a week.”
Although it was lighthearted, Leon knew his sarcasm didn’t work well on James. He sighed somberly; “I… I just didn’t want to wake you up, Honey.”
James didn’t respond, instead he leaned in close, pressing a tender kiss to Leon’s cheek.
“Was it bad?” James asked after a moment.
“Yeah. Not as bad as usual, but bad enough.”
Leon could tell just by James’ mannerisms that he wasn’t happy to hear that. James let out a deep sigh, holding Leon just a bit tighter in a comforting manner. This is exactly what Leon didn’t want. He didn’t want to have to burden James like this. This was something he’d rather talk about in the morning, not so late at night where he would have James worry. This was something he would rather not talk about at all. He wished he could come home from his job and sleep without having to relieve the horrors of it. He wished he could feel more energetic, wished he wasn’t in constant pain, wished he could spend more time with the man he loved, but it was unfortunately inevitable, and he hated that. Hated that he couldn’t have even a sliver of a normal life, hated that he couldn’t control his life the way he wanted too. The only time in his life that he actually felt like he had control over something was when he was with James. James kept him grounded, reminding Leon that despite everything, there are still people around him who care, people who truly love him. It was a shame that time was so short lived, constantly having to scurry off from one mission to the next after finally getting used to being home, being in a safe space where he wasn’t being hunted down or hunting something. Albeit, it would live with him forever, having James with him made it worth it, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Leon pondered for a while before he shifted to face James, cuddling into his chest. He reached for James’ hand and held it with a gentleness he knew they both appreciated, especially with the scars they both shared that littered their hands. “Hey… Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve been through worse, I'll be fine, James.”
"I just think you should take a break, that's all." James replied with some sadness in his voice, but returned the gesture, gently squeezing Leon's hand.
"Sweetheart, you know I can't do that. They really need me out there, after all, where else are they going to find someone as strong and capable as me, huh?" Leon smiled up at James, using humor to be dismissive of the situation at hand. He tended to do that a lot, sometimes without even noticing. But even then, it was nothing more than being dismissive, a mechanism used to cope with the merciless requirements of his job, refusing to question his health and other needs, and even more so, not taking into consideration those around him.
James was very quick to catch on, however; "Leon." James said firmly, looking Leon dead in the eyes. "I'm being serious. You really need to take a break. It's taking a toll on you, it's been taking a toll on you."
"James." Leon mimicked. "I don't want you to worry about me. I'll worry about myself, and-"
"That's the problem. You never worry about yourself." James cut Leon off, tired voice filled with anxiousness and minor frustration. "You're always so dismissive, it's hard to even take you seriously sometimes. I know you don't like talking about it, but every time you dismiss it, you're already gone before you even entertain the thought of changing something. Do you know what that's like for me? I worry because I'm afraid one day you won't come home, and… I think about that too often."
It looked like this barely even phased Leon, but it did, he just didn't show it. Deep down it actually felt terrible. This wasn't something that was ever verbalized before. Of course, they've both had their own experiences, witnessing and living through things people would only see in their nightmares. It wasn't a stretch to assume one would be afraid to lose something so close to them, after already losing everything else. Despite everything, James' hold on Leon remained, not faltering in tightness, a comforting grasp.
After a moment of deafening silence, James spoke up again, this time more somberly. "... Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I know it's bad-"
"No! No… It's alright!" It was Leon's turn to cut James off. He quickly reassured him, reaching his hands up to gently hold James' face, bringing him in close. "It's okay, James. You don't have to say sorry, I should be the one apologizing. You're right, I'm not… being a good partner."
"That's not what I-"
"Shh, quiet. I know that's not what you mean, but it's true. I'm not listening to you. I've put you on the back burner and haven't heard you out at all. I've done nothing but worry you more than I actually wanted too. And that's… not what good partners do. So I'm sorry. And y'know what? I promise, I'll talk to someone. I'll talk to Hunnigan, and maybe I can work something out."
Leon gently caressed James' face as he spoke, causing James to lean into his touch, smiling.
"... You promise?" James mumbled as he nuzzled into Leon's hand, taking it into his own and kissing it.
"I promise, sweetheart." Leon replied, genuinely.
"Thank you, sweetheart." James answered, sweetly.
"Hey now, I'm the one who uses 'sweetheart' here." James giggled quietly, any tension slowly fading away as they got lost in each other's little quips. "You haven't shaved, huh?" Leon commented in a lighthearted manner.
"Neither have you."
"I haven't been home, what's your excuse?"
"I'm forgetful."
"Heh, yeah, sure."
They both quietly laughed, continuing their friendly banter until sleep weighed heavy on them. Somehow, like usual, they both ended up in a different position from how they started, Leon almost on top of James as they snuggled together, resting silently. James ran a hand through Leon's messy hair, and placed a kiss on top of his head; "Goodnight, Leon."
"Woah, hey. How about a proper kiss?"
"I gave you one of those before you left, you can hold out till the morning, can't you?" James mocked, but leaned in closer to Leon anyway.
"Yeah yeah, you're so amusing." Leon shook his head before he closed the gap between them. He missed the feeling of having James' lips on his, missing the feeling of being held with such delicacy and passion, missed… James. The kiss was sweet and short, they couldn't hold it for long as they both started to laugh, exhaustion from the night no doubt taking over them.
"Okay… goodnight now, Leon."
"... Goodnight, James."
After such a long, hard, exhausting week full of complications and issues that were out of Leon's ability to solve, he felt calm and comfortable for the first time in a while. He wished he could spend every waking moment like this; curled up next to his loved one underneath a warm blanket, his troubles feeling miles away and the outside world nonexistent. Leon could feel his own heart beating faster than usual, and for once it's not out of fear or adrenaline, but instead out of love.
#resident evil#silent hill#leon Kennedy x james Sunderland#leon kennedy#james sunderland#kenderland#i love pathetic men#the horror protags ever#ghosts writing
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What it Means to be Living
Pairing: Ellie and Joel
WC: 830
Warnings: none, just some good ol’ Jackson fluff and domesticity
A/N: title was derived from Fast Car by Tracy Chapman. I feel like this song is very them coded. Enjoy!
When you’re crossing the country on foot, rain is not something to look forward to. Spending days camped out in an abandoned gas station waiting for a deluge to pass, sitting on pins and needles hoping no one finds you seeking dry shelter, jumping at every unfamiliar sound, bones aching for heat— a shudder passed down Joel’s spine as he reminisced on that chapter of his life. He had spent more nights than he cared to count huddled in dark corners running off of adrenaline waiting for dawn to break.
Here in Jackson though? Rain was good. Rain was a blessing. Spring showers meant full rain barrels and a plentiful harvest. They meant roasted squash in the fall and extra carrots in your soup come winter. Clouds that blocked out the typically blue banner bringing humid air and eerie, dark grey light in the middle of the day were something he and Ellie looked forward to. So when he saw the cumulonimbus formation creeping in their direction at the end of his patrol shift the night before, he couldn’t wait to race home and make plans with Ellie for the following day. They were both off, another rarity now that she had finished school. She was always off somewhere getting into trouble. The nights they spent curled up on the couch becoming few and far between these days, but she couldn’t resist a good thunder storm.
Joel’s rocking chair creaked, cutting through the stark silence of an empty street. Most people planned on staying huddled inside for the next few hours if they could help it. If they were still in Texas, Joel would’ve expected a tumbleweed to careen down the street, the rustle of its branches singing a quiet song as it traveled down the dirt path.
The screen door swung shut behind Ellie who was careful to catch it with her hip to prevent it from slamming. Something about disturbing the peace felt wrong to both of them. They both held these afternoons in their hearts with a solemn reverence.
She set a stale cup of coffee next to Joel, a treat they saved for days like today, clutching a mug that was more honey than tea to sip on as she took her seat. With a blanket draped across her lap, she kicked off the porch to fall into a gentle rhythm in her chair mirroring Joel.
The first roll of thunder rumbled in the distance, and she closed her eyes, taking a big inhale of the heavy air.
“Just in time,” Joel smiled softly, bringing the cup to his lips to take a long sip.
Ellie smiled at the sound, thinking of the way he slurped coffee from the thermos they picked up at Bill and Frank’s on their journey here. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been a few years. The lines around his eyes were deeper now, his hair more grey than brown these days.
The first pitter patters of rain found their landing places on the overhang of the porch. Those sparse drops soon sweeping over them in a gentle rush covering the whole town. The rustle of wind through the trees, thunder now crashing loud overhead, the drops forming a small puddle at the edge of the steps with a steady plink, plink, plink, all of it coming together in a symphony that the pair reveled in like an old favorite tune, a lullaby from childhood whose words have since faded, but whose melody was stored in their hearts, easily falling from their lips as they rocked side by side.
Joel lifted up his guitar and started picking softly. No tune in particular, just a quiet accompaniment to nature’s song.
“Starlight’s due any minute now,” Ellie remarked, “I’m hoping it’s a day I’m off from patrol. Dan said I could help deliver the baby if I’m here.”
Joel smiled at how well she had taken to the horses. She was a natural when it came to riding, even more so when it came to caring for them. They seemed to speak the same language. Ellie knew what it was like to be afraid, always leading with gentle, hushed tones and soothing words when she was around them.
Joel’s fingers strummed around until he found a familiar melody, one of Ellie’s favorites. Her mouth turned up into a smile as he started singing the words in his low voice.
“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere.”
“Maybe we can make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere,” her lighter voice picked up.
The two of them sang off and on, adding to the symphony of life playing around them. It made them feel connected, it made them feel alive. After all they had been through, to be sitting on a porch together, voices in quiet harmony, the safety of home at their backs, they couldn’t help but think life was worth living after all.
#the last of us#the last of us fluff#the last of us drabble#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel miller#ellie williams#joel and ellie#if you ship them I’ll gut punch you
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happy friday!! 'Stubbornly waiting for them before going to sleep' for the pairing of your choice?
I really wanted to use this opportunity to write some Bethany and Carver twin stuff set in the modern!Thedas AU, so here's some of the Hawke twins with their older sibling for @dadrunkwriting!
"Shhhhhh!" The sharp whisper cut through the silence of the dark living room like a blade, and Bethany nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound right by her left ear. Fear gave way to fury, and she jabbed her elbow into Carver's stomach as revenge.
"Don't 'shhhhhhh!' me, Carver! You shhhhhhh!" Bethany hissed, even as she nervously glanced back to the stairs, where ma and da were sleeping. But the lights remained off and she didn't hear the creaking of bedsprings, so everyone else was still asleep. Good. If ma and da woke up and saw that Marian wasn't in bed... Bethany shuddered at the thought.
"I'm not stompin' around like a nuggalope," Carver grumbled, but he slipped his hand into Bethany's and squeezed it firmly. They were a little old for that usually- too sappy for eleven-year-olds- but tonight was different, and they both needed the comfort that only a sibling could provide.
Bethany woke up from a nightmare, a hospital nightmare, and the smell of bleach and air freshener lingered in her nose like a curse. Carver woke up too, even though he claimed he was already awake, and after some discussion they resolved to cross the hall and see Marian. She might be bossy and over-bearing, but Marian was... she was Marian! She could fix anything. She always knew what to do whenever there was a problem. And she could drive away nightmares with a laugh and a story and a mug of hot cocoa, no matter the season.
But when Carver and Bethany pushed Marian's door open, she wasn't there, and the awful stone that was sitting in Bethany's stomach only grew heavier as she realized that her older sister wasn't in her bed. She was never gone before- not without notice- and it felt wrong. Was wrong! She'd never leave without telling them. She never would! This was Marian, and she loved them! Marian promised to take her and Carver to the library tomorrow! She'd never run away, especially if it meant breaking a promise!
But Bethany kept thinking of all the terrible things that might make Marian leave them for good: ma and Marian fought last week, a terrible row about dressing for Chantry services. Carver spilled a whole glass of orange juice on Marian's mathematics workbook two days ago. Da told her that she would have to wait until next summer to take driving lessons earlier in the month, and Marian was still upset about it (Bethany could tell by the tightness in the corners of her mouth whenever Marian's friends talked about their summer courses). And Bethany played Marian's makeup- all her eyeliner and eyeshadows, all those dark and cool colors that made Marian look so serious and grown-up- and made a complete mess of everything. And sometimes Bethany saw the way Marian looked out past their familiar neighborhood and towards the skies, as if she wished she could grow a pair of giant wings and leave everything behind.
"We'll sit here," Carver whispered, sounding confident even though his hand felt a little clammy in hers. "And we'll wait for Marian to come back." Even though Bethany felt as if she was spiraling, Carver's faith in their sister was unshakeable. They sat down on the couch side by side and stared out into the dark, waiting for... for Marian to come back.
"Where d'you think she went?" Bethany asked, both terrified and eager for an answer.
"Probably out to see a friend," Carver whispered. "She'll be back." Visiting a friend made sense, Bethany thought. It was a reasonable idea, yet she couldn't shake the bone-deep fear that Marian would never return home.
"What if ma or da finds out?" Bethany asked, even though she already had a good idea of what might happen if ma and da woke up and found out that Marian wasn't home. They'd fight. Ma would cry. Da would run off to search for her. And Bethany and Carver would have to... have to wait. And waiting was the worst.
"She'll be back before they wake up. And we won't tell 'em," Carver replied stubbornly. They both fell silent then, though Carver reached up and grabbed the plush blanket that served as a decorative throw and wrapped it over their shoulders as they waited. And waited.
It felt like an age of waiting, but Bethany heard the soft metallic click of a key in the front door before it swung open and closed with a soft thud. The lock clicked again, and then quiet footsteps (so quiet, even in those heavy leather boots) walked down the front hallway and towards the stairs. Marian, Bethany thought as relief swept over her. Marian was home. She hadn't run away!
"Marian," Carver whispered, and a startled squeak of alarm echoed through the living room.
"Carver?! What's wrong, you should be in be- Bethany too?!" Marian exclaimed in a whisper, and in a few quick steps she was kneeling by the couch. She smelled like cigarette smoke and night air, and her hands and leather jacket were chilly against Bethany's bare arms, but Bethany hugged Marian fiercely and breathed her in. Marian hadn't run off. She was back, just like Carver said she would be.
"Had a nightmare," Bethany sniffed, relief breaking what her fear and nightmare hadn't. "About... about the hospital again."
"Oh, Bethany..." Marian said, sympathy heavy in her voice. "And you stayed up to keep her company, Carver?"
"Couldn't sleep anyways," Carver insisted, and Bethany felt Marian shift and drag Carver into her embrace. He squirmed half-heartedly for a second before he returned the hug.
"You two..." Marian sighed, and her breath ruffled Bethany's hair. "You're too good. Both of you. C'mon, up to bed. I'll tuck you in."
Bethany followed Marian's lead and the three of them crept up the stairs. Tomorrow, when she and Carver and Marian went to the library, Bethany would ask why Marian snuck out at night, why she smelled like cigarettes, and why she hadn't told either of them where she was going. But that could all wait for tomorrow, because now... now they were going to sleep.
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