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batfleshh · 1 month

Note

Ok but,,,, bandit!reader who’s touch starved and just melts when cowboy!price touches him, even if it’s not the friendliest type of touch

Cowboy!Price X Bandit!M!Reader

!! NSFW WARNING, not proofread, cws at cut!!

Cowboy!Price who gives you a slap on the wrist for some of the minor things you do that get reported by to law, like stealing or scams. Most of the time he’ll explain that you’re too slippery to catch, but he’ll get you next time! But he knows in the back of his mind just how he’ll take care of you never learning your lesson. This man just can’t bring himself to punish you, the most he’ll do is not let you bounce on his cock. But if it is more extreme, like full blown horse theft or assault, he’ll make sure you know to change your behavior when he’s done with you.

Bandit!R who never learns when he gets in trouble, only pouting at the way Price warns him about it every single time. But sometimes when he resorts to his more extreme punishments, you’ll be put in your place for a while. One of the main things he’ll do is just, not touch you when you’re both alone. After a long day of playing cat and mouse for the authorities, he’s fed up for how much of a fool you actually take him for when you’re out getting away with things. Sometimes you just forget who owns who in this relationship, and you forget to ask when your mind needs to be reset.

Cowboy!Price who uses your neediness against you, resulting in your mind slipping into a more submissive headspace when you’re both alone. He likes when he’s in control, keeping up this whole “authority figure” feeling kind of makes him feel more powerful when he’s around you. He loves how much you try to earn his praise and affection, even resulting in not giving you any kind of affirmation for days on end just to watch you melt when you receive it. It’s a weird, sadistic pleasure of his, but he can’t help himself.

Bandit!R who whines for Prices attention, doing whatever you can to get that man to give you the simplest of praises when you’re with him. You’re not sure what kind of spell he has over you, but the feeling you get when his kind words and showings of affection hit, it you makes you feel euphoric. You need him to know how good you can be, and you need him to know how willing you are for him to know.

cw!! for small boot stuff, needy reader, praise, degradation n name calling, spit as lube, unprotected sex, sub!bottom reader, dacryphilia, blowjobs, cockwarming, affirmations and aftercare bc I’m a sucker for a happy sub im sorry guys :(

You’re stationed on your knees in front of John, your hands fidgeting as you wait patiently for his orders. Your mouth feels dry as you swallow for what feels like the millionth time, staring up into his dark eyes as you watch the gears turn in his head. He nods his head at you in confirmation, you immediately reaching your hands up to unbuckle his belt. You whine as your eyes trace the outline of his hard on before your hands get to, quickly moving to pull down his undergarments. You grab at his cock slowly, licking at the tip with your tongue. The taste of the pre leaking from his tip is enough for your mind to start to fog up, immediately forgetting everything that has happened that day, or between you two in the past for that matter.

Price groans as you slowly start to take his length into your mouth, knowing full well you won’t stop yourself until you reach the bushel of hair that rests on his pelvis. He lets you do what you want for right now, letting you slowly sink into your own headspace. His foot slowly inches forward, the toe of his boot nudging against your own excitement in your pants. You moan at the feeling, unknowingly moving your hips to grind against his boot. You try to stay focused on sucking him off, your hands coming up to rest of his legs for support. You make eye contact with him, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re already so excited for me, boy. Wonder how eager you’ll be to take this inside you, hm?” He talks to you with a rough edge to his voice, chuckling at the dumb look you’re giving him. He finds it so cute when you decide to let go of your tough personality only when you’re beneath him. “Tsk, wonder how I got lucky with such a floozy.” He spits down at you, his harsh words only egging you on more to do better, choking slightly on his cock as you begin to suck on him faster. Price lets out rough noises as he grabs at the back of your head, shoving your mouth onto his cock. He releases down your throat, smirking at the way you cough and gag, his release dripping from your tongue when he pulls out of your mouth.

Tears prickle in your eyes at his lack of words, trying to cover up the way his lack of praise is affecting you. You watch as his hand gives his cock a few lazy strokes, thinking to himself. “Get up on the bed, boy.” He orders you, watching as you scramble to kick off your pants and lay on your back on the bed, a white dress shirt the only thing lingering on your body when Price moves up to you. “Already know what position I like ya in, huh whore?” He sneers at you, a mock disgusted tone in his voice. You can only nod, tears still brimming in your eyes as you look up at him, his hands moving to pull your hips against him. John wastes no time in spitting on his fingers, wanting to be nice enough to prep you.

As he slides his fingers into you, you try to distract yourself from the dull pain of them entering you. Your breathing begins to slowly pick up, searching around for something to comfort you. You whimper as you grab for his free hand, squeezing it. Rather than him pulling away, Price moves his hand up to your chest, playing with the closed buttons on your shirt. You pout at him, his hand then moving to your face. His thumb caresses your bottom lip, watching your mouth open with a small moan as he continues to work you open with his fingers. He pushes his thumb into your mouth slowly, watching as saliva that was previously pooling in your mouth is now escaping onto his thumb. He doesn’t mind it, almost getting off to how gone you looked, how much you seemed to trust him in this moment.

He slowly removes his fingers from your entrance, removing his thumb from your mouth and giving his cock a few good strokes. You whimper embarrassingly loud as he pushes his tip into you, beginning with slow, but fair thrusts. You’re still not completely satisfied, whimpering more from the praise he’s withholding from you. He notices this, smirking to himself when he pushes his cock further into you, watching as your eyes shoot open. With the water brimming in your eyes now slowly falling down your cheeks, you begin to whine, trying to keep yourself together. Trying to keep your composure, in order to feel like you haven’t failed him.

But instead of a harsh reaction, you feel warm, gentle hands caressing your thighs. You sniffle as you wrap your legs around his waist, gentle sobs leaving you as you try to keep it together. Price coos at you, finally deciding to let you have a nice time. He moves his hands up to grab at yours, putting them on his shoulders. “Thas a good boy, fuck. Such a good damn boy f’me.” He curses into your ear, fucking into you faster. The praise makes you lose your mind, your cock leaking onto your stomach as an orgasm builds up inside you, your breath quickening. Price feels your hands dig into his back slightly, groaning at the way you’re just so desperate for him. He picks up the speed of his thrusts, watching as tears stream down your face, saliva leaving your lips as you begin to babble out words.

Price can only hush you, kissing lightly at your freshly tear stained cheeks. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He praises you, grunting as he feels his own orgasm building. You begin to whine and moan louder, your own release building up with his. John moves one of his hands down to stroke at your leaking cock, soft kisses being planted on your lips as he does so. The whole thing is making you crazy, and the sweet noise you make when you cum on his hand is enough to make him slam his hips against yours, releasing inside of you. He collapses on top of you, rolling onto his back and keeping his cock plugged into you. He lets you keep his cum inside you for now, making a mental note to give you a good cleaning later. He finally wraps his arms around you, the feeling making your body feel like mini explosions.

You smile tiredly as you nuzzle up into his neck, a blanket being pulled up to cover the bottom half of your slowly. You whimper gently as Price whispers sweet word into your ear, keeping you feeling happy with his word of praise. “There’s my good boy.” He says to you softly, kissing away at your face. Sure, the dynamic you and Price display is fun. But when you’re cuddled up close to him, feeling his warmth again yours, you sometimes wish this was all this was. But for now, you keep that to yourself, resting your head on his chest or neck. You would love to stay like this forever.

~ ★

It’s currently 3:42am and I’m tired as shit, gn mwah

Tags: @rodolfoparras hi :3 <3

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hellishjoel · 8 months

Text

psycho bitch

3.2k / pairing: brat tamer!joel x f!reader

pt. 1 pt. 2

summary: When Joel ignoring you leads to an expensive shopping spree on his credit card, punishment follows in the form of spanking and a well-deserved pounding.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (kitten, etc.), degradation, name calling (be nice lol), praise kink, dom!joel, spanking, a little ass play, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, mean joel honestly lol

A/N: it’s official, I’m naming this series psycho because I’m pretty sure that’s what Joel has reader’s name in his phone saved as. his lil psycho <3 we love psycho in this house (it’s you, you’re psycho).

“Say you’re sorry.” Joel sneered, voice low. You paused the motion of your hips and cocked your head in an attempt to look back at him. A dopey hm? left your lips. Mistake. The smack of his hands cracked against your ass, the stinging sensation warming your entire body as you gasped. “Shit-- Joel!” You whimpered as you writhed under his body, but it was pointless, he had pinned you to the couch. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Say you’re sorry,” He repeated. “Say you’re sorry for rackin’ up my credit card.”

If there was one thing you loved doing above all else, it was irritating the shit out of Joel. Whatever he was to you, boyfriend, fuck toy, situationship… whatever role he played, he was more fun riled up.

You’d rather have the most psychotic, deranged, raving mad sex with Joel than be stuck in missionary for the rest of your life.

You were at his place, lying in his bed waiting for him to come home from work. And you’d be waiting a while because according to your phone, it was barely noon. Bored, you tried calling him a few times, but he didn’t care to answer.

To busy your mind, you started watching Clueless. What a horrible idea that was because now, you wished you had the funds to afford Cher Horowitz’s wardrobe. Hm.

Laid in the lingerie Joel left you in this morning, you rolled onto your tummy and started surfing the different stores you loved for inspiration. You wondered what would drive Joel up a wall. A mini skirt? Knee-high socks? An expensive gold waist chain? They all sounded good.

Add to cart. Add to cart. Add to cart.

Your heart clenched at the total.

“Fuck.” You murmured, tossing your phone to the side in frustration. To live a life of wanting so much, but earning so little was not a life for you. Your lips twisted in thought.

Maybe Joel would buy the rest of your items if you threw in a new set of lingerie or two. As much as it was for you to wear, it was just as much for his enjoyment.

You sent him a screenshot of a nice bubble gum pink lace bustier and garter set. The embellishments were gold hearts, and the snaps onto the garters were gold clasps. It was absolutely to die for, despite it being a few hundred dollars.

cute, isn’t it?

You sent it off to Joel and chewed on your fingernail for his response.

It made your eyes roll back into your head the way that he continued to ignore you. You decided to give him one last call, and if he didn’t pick up, you were grabbing the emergency American Express on top of the refrigerator and using it for… said emergency.

If there was one lesson Joel needed to learn, it was that you were not someone to be ignored.

You spent the rest of the afternoon into the evening online shopping with the Amex, giggling in excitement at the newfound cash flow. Sure, he might not be happy at first, but surely Joel would love everything you bought. It was all for him, after all.

You had moved from his bed to the couch after eating a late lunch, laid on your tummy in just a t-shirt and thong, still scrolling through your phone.

Your jaw clicked when the front door was kicked open so fast that it made the floorboards shake. You were used to his theatrics by now, so you continued to lay unphased.

“The HELL do you think you’re doin’ with that?” Joel snapped as he swiped the Amex card straight from between your fingers. You smirked as you stared down at your phone, mindlessly scrolling and ignoring him.

“Do you know how many DAMN notifications I got on my phone today? Do you know how many charges you made on the card?” He snapped, shucking off his work boots and jacket as his eyes burned into the back of your head.

You fluttered out a sigh, finally giving him a little attention and turning your head to him.

“You don’t like what I bought?”

Joel was starstruck with anger, it grounded him into one standing spot in the living room with his muscular arms crossed in annoyance.

“You crossed a line, you fuckin’-- psycho bitch.” He spat his words, venom poison dripping from his pretty lips. “Paid over a thousand dollars today and for what? Lingerie?!”

You stifled a giggle and bit on your lower lip. “And a pink silk robe. Verrrry pretty.”

He scoffed. “Very fuckin’ expensive. Waste of time, waste of money, made me damn near keel over at work today seein’ those bills rack up!” Joel said as his angry growls filled the room.

“So you were on your phone today, just not talking to me, huh?” Your voice held annoyance, your face in a light pinched expression.

He ignored you, rolling your eyes as you returned to your phone.

“Should have said so before I bought everything... Tried calling you, texting you. Never answered me.” You could feel Joel’s obvious annoyance and anger without even looking.

“I was at work, don’t have time to wait on you hand and foot.”

You lightly shrugged, back turned to him as you pouted. Still laying on your stomach, you lifted your calves and crossed your ankles, ass curving perfectly with your thong on display. You could feel him watching, staring, admiring.

“Sounds like a you problem, Joel.”

His scoff was indignant as he sauntered past the coffee table and moved closer to the couch. Joel’s fingertips lightly grazed up the back of your thigh, causing goosebumps in his wake.

“Does it now?” His southern accent was slick with lust, you could feel his eyes staring at your ass. It was only confirmed when he took a big handful in his palm and squeezed.

“Mhmmm.” You hummed, paying him no mind. “Bought all of it for you, anyway. Know how much you like seein’ me all prettied up.” Your words were sweet but dangerous, a Venus flytrap waiting to snap Joel up.

Joel’s jaw was tight with anger, and he was taking it out through the grip of his hand on your juicy flesh.

“Feel like no one’s ever said no to you before I came along,” Joel muttered. You felt the couch shift, a soft gasp leaving you as he mounted the tops of your thighs with one of his knees smooshed between the cushions and the other on the edge, your body laid between.

Your lips parted at the feeling, his denim jeans grinding against the smoothness of your thighs. Your phone fell to the floor, and you paid no mind to it.

Joel was taking all of you in, massaging your gorgeous ass in his wide, warm palms.

You hummed at the feeling, your head dropping to lay on the arm of the couch.

His fingers lined your thong, and you purred in excitement.

He loved this pose. He’d sit on your thighs and part his dick right between your ass cheeks, slip right in, and watch his cock disappear into your entrance, enveloped by your flesh. Sometimes his thumb would notch into your second hole, fill you up and drive you up a wall.

You supposed you were both good at driving each other mad, just in different forms.

You couldn’t help but try and lift your hips up off the couch, leaning into his touch and lightly grinding up into his palms.

“Say you’re sorry.” Joel sneered, voice low.

You paused the motion of your hips and cocked your head in an attempt to look back at him.

A dopey hm? left your lips. Mistake.

The smack of his hands cracked against your ass, the stinging sensation warming your entire body as you gasped.

“Shit-- Joel!” You whimpered as you writhed under his body, but it was pointless, he had pinned you to the couch. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Say you’re sorry,” He repeated. “Say you’re sorry for rackin’ up my credit card.” His signature snarl was sending you into a fit. And now you were just being stubborn. You weren’t sorry, he should be sorry!

“N-No.” A harsh slap hit your backside once more, and a broken crying whine left your throat, your eyes clenching closed.

This was the worst part about spanking; Joel was ruthless and unforgiving. But the hot sting was soon greeted by an aching pleasure between your thighs. You were going to give the couch a terrible wet puddle.

A shaky breath left your mouth as you braced for more, it was heaven to get this much attention from him.

The anxiety was lying in wait. You never knew when he was going to strike your red-soaked ass again, your breath hitched in your throat as you willed yourself to calm down in anticipation.

“A thousand. Fucking. Dollars. Just for you to be half naked like a little slut.”

Joel’s words didn’t hurt, they only implored you. He was so goddamn sexy when he talked like this. A soft moan left your lips, not being able to help it.

You were a wet sopping mess below him, weakly grinding your hips either down into the couch or up into his thighs. Anything to get some sort of friction. Fucking touch me already!

His greedy hands gripped and cupped your ass, pushing it up into your tailbone. He was so fucking possessive, the motion had you moaning.

“Yeah... I know you fuckin’ like it when I manhandle you. Lucky I even touch you after the shit you pulled today.” He pulled your panties aside and spat down over your pulsing asshole, feeling it glide down to your pussy and between your thighs.

You gulped, and the sound bounced off the walls. “Joel baby, I-” A harsh slap rang so loud, it echoed off the windowpanes. You clenched the couch in your little fists and let out the shaky, whimpery breath you were holding in. His couch would surely have nail marks in them now.

He spanked you until you were apologetic and deduced to nothing. A writhing apology below him in the form of your cunt sopping wet and mascara tears of pain and pleasure on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so f-fuckin’ sorry daddy, please put your hands on me again-”

Smack.

“Fuck! Fuck! Right there, yes Joel, holy sh-shit, can hit me harder baby, feels so good, so so go-”

Smack.

“Fuck! Fuck Joel, owww, p-please baby, lemme make you feel good, take me in any hole you want, I’m yours, I’m yours!”

You were a whimpering, moaning, mess of a woman under him. He had smacked your ass so hard that it was numb. You hoped his hand would be tattooed on you forever. And you knew that was his point, to imprint the outline of his massive hand on your ass, branding you, announcing to everyone through the way you were going to walk tomorrow that you got bent over and spanked so hard into submission.

More tears threatened to spill on your waterline, you kept trying to blink them away. You had a dummy fucked grin on your face, Joel could see it with the way your sweaty cheek laid against the couch arm. He raised his hand once more, but you couldn’t take it again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fuckin’ sorry, please, please, please..” Your voice trailed off, and his hand lowered. Suddenly, his hands were on your ass again, but now he was massaging into you again, taking away the ache and sting. Somewhat.

You let out a groveling whimpery moan, jaw dropped as you watched his gorgeous face out of the corner of your eye. His cock was rock hard against your thigh. He had only gotten harder during the whole spanking session.

“Know you wanna fuck me.” The notion slipped out of your mouth before you even had the chance to reclaim it. A cocky little smirk on your lips as you mustered up all the strength you had and ground your ass up into his hands.

You felt him peel your ass apart, watching the wet thong sopping with his spit and your arousal sink down to your pussy. He hummed in appreciation, slipping his thumb under the band and brushing against your tight hole.

“You can keep one pair of lingerie..” Your eyes twinkled in lust, a smile perking up on your lips.

“Only ‘cause I’m ‘bout to rip these off you.”

You gasped as your head whipped back to him, watching as he ripped the flimsy lace of your thong into nothingness. He made it look easy, effortless, his strength was nothing to contend. So fucking sexy.

You bit down on the plush pillow of your lower lip, holding back a grin as your small hands gripped the cushion of the couch. Fuck, he was so riled up tonight. Getting under his skin was always in your best interest.

Hot, shaky pants left your mouth as you watched him undo his belt buckle, the cool metal clasp falling onto your spanked, red ass with a hiss that had you seething through gritted teeth.

Joel pushed his jeans and black boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.

The sight in your peripheral made you writhe your hips under his, but he was heavy weight over you, holding you down as you tried to shake your ass back into his tip.

This made him scoff out a degrading little puff through his nose, seeing you so desperate for him like this despite being freshly punished.

The adrenaline of it all heightened your senses, you could really smell him now.

You liked when Joel smelled like work. His lips and cock tasted musky, fresh and old sweat mixed with the heady smell of lingering cologne he applied in the morning. His odor tickled your nose, and you couldn’t help but let your grin slip.

“Somethin’ funny, princess?” Joel’s tone was teasing, goading even. He was looking for a fight, a reason to ram you into a speechless existence. Maybe then you’d learn to shut up. But for now…

Your head twisted against the couch cushion, loose arousal moistening your thighs as you took a shy but brave look back to the man mounting you from behind.

“You’ll never fuck the attitude out of me.”

Your eyes held his in a seductive staring contest.

“Is that so?” His grated voice was teetering on no return. You could feel his heavy shaft sitting between your peeled-apart ass cheeks now, his tip lightly notching against your hole as you whimpered with need, an ache for him to fill.

Joel held himself at his base, loosely pumping his shaft and feeling it swell fat and heavy in his hand.

His tip was slowly enveloped by your thighs and ass, finding your cunt and slowly pushing in. Your eyes quickly rolled to the back of your head because to be filled up by Joel was an indescribable experience.

Joel’s head fell, partly in concentration but also in awe watching his dick slip between your folds.

It was messy at first, with broken moans and whimpers leaving you as his hips pushed forward. He parted your insides, trying to accommodate his size. Usually, he didn’t give you this much time. Often you had pissed him off so much that he was bottoming out in one thrust and you were screeching his name in hot, happy pants.

This was slow, methodical, making you feel the weight of every damn dollar of his you spent today.

Finally, he plunged in fully to the hilt, bottoming out in one swift thrust that had you choking for air.

Joel slowly reeled his hips back out, seeing his length glisten in your pretty slick before he slowly joined your bodies together once more.

Your head was heavy and full, clouded and starry as he fulfilled a need you had been desperately aching for all damn day.

No amount of clothes could fulfill the hole you needed Joel to fill.

Joel’s balls were swollen and happy, you can tell by how they slapped against you while he picked up the pace of his thrusts. His hands are splayed around your ribcage, fucking you into the couch and making you feel as if you were sinking into the cushions.

Your moans were a broken record of his name, feeling your head rock as he started to really pound into you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel, J-Joh fuck!” You clenched your eyes closed, you could feel his one knee sinking deeper into the couch as he continued to rest on your upper thighs, his other foot coming down onto the floor beside the couch to keep his fill in you.

With the added traction, he felt like he was fucking you at a million miles an hour. The squeeze on your ribcage shuffled from your sides to your hips, feeling yourself get pounded and straightened out.

He was merciless when he was fucking you silent like this, making you listen to the echo of your disgusting moans, the only sounds Joel made being his horny growls and fuck-hungry grunts.

You were squeezing around him perfectly, the curve of your ass and the walls of your cunt milking his length.

His hips continued to clap your ass, feeling it bounce and reverberate against his abdomen as he started to hunch his body over you.

You gasped as you felt his palm flatten against your cheek, face smooshing into the cushion and distorting the sounds of your moans.

“Oooh f- ooh, Jowl, Jowl!”

His tip tickled your cervix, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. He was close. Your clit was throbbing, begging for release, he needed to keep hitting that spot in you.

“P-Please, wanna cuwm.” You whimpered, mouth still smooshed.

Your jaw dropped as he used the leverage from his extended arm holding your face down, fucking into you deep and leaving your ass clapping.

“Retunin’ all those damn clothes,” Joel grunted, leaving you whining against his palm.

“Shut up, fuckin’-- little psycho bitch.”

Your cunt swelled at the compliment, a loud moan leaving you as his piping hot, white cum creamed your walls.

Please don’t stop, help me finish, so close-

Your eyes widened as Joel moved his hand from the side of your cheek to your shoulder and hoisted you up, your back now flush against his sweaty chest as you both kneeled on the couch.

His softening length stayed nuzzled inside of you, feeling Joel reach around to circle your clit messily with his free hand as he was still reeling from his own orgasm.

You cried out and threw your head back on the top of his shoulder, face trying to curl into his neck as he overstimulated your senses.

Joel’s big firm hand holding you up by your shoulder moved to wrap around your throat, keeping you against him as your hands weakly gripped his wrist.

“God- God!! Fuck! Joel!” You cried out his name while he squeezed at the sides of your windpipe, your walls clenching around his soft cock as you came desperately down his shaft. You saw stars as Joel restricted your airflow during your orgasm, a dopey grin on your face.

He threw you back down onto the couch, your body falling into the safety of the cushions. He pulled himself from your soaking cunt, snagging his boxers and pulling them up with ease along with his jeans. All while you were laid out on the couch, fucked dumb as you laid in a heap on the couch. Fuck, that was so good.

“Joel?” You whimpered, both of you still panting to catch your breaths.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you think about letting me keep all the lingerie?”

You watched with a small smile as he rolled his eyes, trying to hide a grin.

“You never learn, do you, psycho?”

You shook your head slowly, pushing your hair away from your sweaty face.

“Sometimes I need to be told twice.”

---

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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. Sorry for the inconvenience! love you!)

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequest #joel miller x reader

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

Note

I would like to request Karlach and Shadowheart (maybe Jaheria) with a Tav who loves praise and compliments but they always get incredibly shy and embarrassed whenever they are praised or complimented if that’s cool

Praising a shy Tav

[Fluff, nb!reader ]

[Karlach, Shadowheart, Jaheira ]

Karlach

It's a guilty pleasure of hers that she absolutely adores seeing you flustered whenever she compliments you. Acting as if she doesn't notice the way you look away or try to change the subject when she loudly announces how badass you were in the last fight, or how pretty your armour looks on you.

Strong, smart, and humble? You're really the whole deal, huh soldier. She'd say teasingly.

Also she isn't blind, she notices the light in your eyes whenever she compliments you. The way you always look at her whenever you achieve something remarkable as if you're anticipating her praise before turning away in shyness when it comes pouring in.

Her heart can't take it, literally, she had her engine heat up multiple times because you were just so damn cute. Gale had to resort to an emergency casting of ice storm to cool her off.

She didn't learn her lesson after, the second she could speak again she immediately went to fluster you even more.

Shadowheart

Few ever who lived to tell the tale of being complimented by Shadowheart. Her praise is never earned easily.

And yet, even at your first meeting with her after the ship crash, she couldn't help but thank you and compliment you for saving her life.

You're an anomaly, she herself can't understand why she is so enamoured with you. Why praises in your name seem to slip so easily from her lips as if it was her second nature to point out your well doings.

Maybe it's the face you make after she whispers a praise in your ear, staring at her with wide eyes like a deer in headlight.

Or maybe it's how you seek her out after every battle, like a puppy looking for treats while attempting to be subtle.

She'll indulge you, even if you won't ever admit what you want put loud. After all, how can she not spoil her favourite hero?

Jaheira

Unlike what her children claim, she is more than capable of praise and giving compliments.

It's just that...well, she was never good at them. It was usually Khalid who gave the compliments freely to people like candy, so she never had to deal with the situation herself.

She tries her best, even when her compliments sound like something a football coach would tell to their team. Even when most people don't appreciate her or her seemingly plain compliments.

Yet, cub, you've always seemed to reveal in her praise. No matter how many layers of harshness and bluntness it was coated in, you'd still accept it and have the nerve to look embarrassed from how happy you are by it.

It's more than a surprise to her when you don't only seek more of her praise, but do so while acting as if her words made you redder than a tomato.

In a way, your reactions encourage her to put more effort into her vague compliments to be more honest, sincere, and touching.

#♡shart #♡Jaheira #♡Karlach #♡fluff #fluff #jaheira x reader #Jaheira #Karlach #karlach x reader #shadowheart x reader #Shadowheart #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 fluff

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viaoverthemoon · 10 months

Note

I have a small request here too✋ I was thinking about Leon (damnation maybe) x fem!reader with reader being his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and the little one falls in love with her and wants to spend more time with reader, and Leon he finds himself forced to accept this, so he falls in love with the reader. It can be with smut at the end or just something romantic, it doesn't matter.

I hope I explained it ok, I've had this idea in my head for some time but I don't know how to express it 😂❤️❤️

Oooo this sounds so cute stawpppp.

Since I have another fic in the works that's drenched in smut, I'll keep this one fluffy. ;)

Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a kindergarten teacher for Leon Kennedy's daughter and she wants to keep you forever!

Tw: Fluff, Mention of deceased relative, Mention of past miscarriage

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Enjoy! <3

To Belong

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

"Congratulations, Arabella! It looks like you're our student of the week!"

You gently place the pin on Arabella's shirt, smiling widely at her proud expression.

Being a kindergarten teacher definitely has its downs. But also has its ups as well. One of those ups being the honor of teaching these innocent children. Every day is something new, a new experience that makes you realize the importance of raising the next generation.

Arabella turns towards you, smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt. She grabs onto your leg. "Thank you, Miss (L/N)! This means so much to me!"

You smile down at her, proud of her for using the feelings lesson you'd taught her, and crouch to her level to give her a hug. "You're welcome, Arabella! I'm so proud of you. Thank you for being such a kind student!"

She seems to take your praise very seriously, being super kind to her classmates and staying by you side, asking if you need help or service in any kind of way.

❁

At the end of the day when everyone has left, you sit alone at your desk.

Whilst flipping from one graded paper to another, the door to your classroom creaks open.

You raise your head just in time to see Arabella run into the room, screaming with her arms in the air. "MISS (L/N)!!!!"

You laugh as she runs around your desk and hugs you, babbling nonsense excitedly. "Oh my goodness! Back so soon, Arabella?"

She gives a hyper nod. "Yes!"

"'Yes ma'am', Bella."

Your eyes snap up, locking with a pair of bright blues.

You look at him, surprised.

The man held a strong resemblance to Arabella, minus the straight blonde hair Arabella carried. They shared blue eyes and a soft face. If anything, his rough exterior yet light features suited him. Gave him a mysterious and alluring air that draws people to him, searching to learn more about him.

"Oh- yes ma'am- Daddy look, look! This is the nice teacher I was telling you about!"

You rise from your chair and hold out a hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy."

He shakes your hand and offers a nod. "Pleasure to meet you too, Miss (L/N). As you can see, I've heard quite a lot about you."

He gives his daughter a pointed look that makes you laugh. You gesture to the seat across from your desk, offering him a seat as you settle back into your chair. "I assume there's a reason you're here that I could help you with?"

Mr. Kennedy sits in the chair, seemingly tired as he falls into the seat and instinctively spreads his legs.

You try your hardest not to acknowledge the action, but your eyes fail you, flickering down his frame for half a second before returning to his face.

You instantly regret your mistake when he smirks at you, straightening up just a bit and resting his arms on his legs. "Actually, I was hoping to discuss what Arabella's behaviors are like while she's at school, as well as how she's learning." He pauses. "I mean, obviously if she's getting student of the month for the 2nd time, she's doing pretty good."

He smiles and playfully ruffles Arabella's hair, earning a laugh from the 5-year-old. "But still. It would be nice to hear from her teacher, not her."

You clear your throat and nod, turning away to escape the burn of his gaze and pulling out a folder labeled A.K., Arabella Kennedy's character chart.

"Of course, I understand. Let's start with how she handles assignments."

❁

After about 45 minutes of talking, Leon seems satisfied with his daughter's school life and begins to pack up his things to leave. But Arabella becomes upset, running to you and refusing to let go of your leg.

"No! I'm not ready to say bye to Miss (L/N) yet!"

She throws the standard child tantrum, small tears streaming down her reddened puffed out cheeks as you gently try to coax her into letting go.

"Arabella... Don't be upset. You'll see me again on Monday-"

But she's relentless, shaking her head and kicking away Mr. Kennedy's hands as he tries to reach for her.

Eventually, he sighs and looks at you embarrassingly. "I'm so sorry Miss (L/N). She's hardly ever like this."

Seeing as this is something you deal with all the time, you just shake your head, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to this behavior... I'm about to leave for the day. If you guys want, we could go out for a quick dinner? This way, we won't have to part so soon."

This gets the crying 5-year-old to quiet down almost immediately. She looks up from your leg, tears and snot smeared all over your pant leg. "Really? Can we?"

You look up at Mr. Kennedy, raising a brow for conformation. And, seeing as there was no way around it, he gives in.

❁

And from that moment forward, you and the Kennedy family became quite close.

You shared a few dinners and spent time together at amusement parks and entertainment events, eventually becoming so close that you'd even watch Arabella when Leon had to leave for reasons of his job.

You listen to his stories, and he listens to yours.

He shares how he and Arabella have no one else to depend on. Her mother, although she and Leon didn't have a good relationship, had died during childbirth. And how he'd lost his own parents long ago, growing up an orphan and not having much.

And you share only having your parents. You could have had a little one yourself, but unfortunately grieved a harsh miscarriage and the father of the child leaving soon after didn't help.

You both end up having more in common than you'd originally thought.

And now, you share more than just experiences and memories. Now, you share shy looks and ghostly touches.

Somedays his hand will graze yours and you both will avoid each other's gaze, ignoring the sudden spark that comes when you make contact.

That is until, one night Leon returns from a particularly long job to find you curled up on his living room couch with a book in hand, reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose.

"Hey, sorry for the long night. Never meant to be gone that long." He shrugs off his leather jacket and throws it over the arm of his second couch.

You eye his fatigued figure for a moment before removing your glasses and putting down your book. "No, it's alright. You know I don't mind, Leon."

Sitting up, you pat the spot next to you on the couch, offering him a seat. "Arabella's upstairs asleep in her room..." He gives a soft grunt and falls on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck while nodding and muttering a 'Good. Thank you.'

Eyes skillfully assessing his behavior, you decide to ask him the question that's been on your mind. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

He glances at you through his peripheral but instantly looks away. "Yes. I'm fine. You can go now."

In all honesty, the way he suggested you leaving hurt your feelings. But you didn't relent. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to stay..."

Reaching a hand out, you place it on top of his on his lap. He flinches slightly, but doesn't push you away. He pauses for a second...

And then he relaxes, flipping his hand over to wrap it around yours.

Your heart is in your throat and the palms of your hands begin to sweat. But you don't show it, smiling shyly at Leon and holding his hand.

He doesn't look at you. Doesn't show any signs that he acknowledges you besides the fact that he isn't letting go of your hand. "Why do you stay? Why do you want to stay?"

The monotone question catches you off guard. You momentarily freeze as his eyes find you.

Blue frozen glaciers filled with oceans and rivers of pure sadness and regret. The emotion in his eyes makes you briefly wonder where he finds the space for the happiness he feels with Arabella.

Or if he'll have the space for happiness with you.

You take a moment to think, looking down at your linked hands and gliding a thumb over the warmth of his skin. "I feel happiest when I'm here with the two of you. As you know, I don't have much. All I've had to look forward to has been my students... but now... I have the both of you."

You look him in the eyes, trying to convey your emotions through the look in yours. "These past few weeks have been the best I've lived through in years... I'm tired of living alone, Leon. Life is worth so much more when you spend it with somebody else."

He looks at you in shock, not sure what to say about your sudden confession. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to choose the right words to say.

You look away bashfully. "Er- What I'm trying to say is... I'd like it if we could spend... more time together. And see each other more often. But-! It's completely up to you, of course."

For a moment, the silence is nerve wracking. You try not to fidget too much or show that you're anxious in awaiting his answer.

You're beginning to lose hope when Leon's hands are suddenly on your hips.

You're so surprised by his actions that you hardly notice him gently coaxing you into sitting on his lap.

Your legs straddle his thighs, backside rested on his knees when you suddenly notice your position. Your face burns hot, and you rest your hands on his shoulders.

His hands find purchase on your waist. "If I'm being honest, I expected you to leave us a long time ago... I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't think you'd stay."

He caresses your sides, warm hands heating through the fabric of your clothes. "And... I would like it- a lot if you stayed with us. Not only would you make me happy, but you'd make Arabella happy too. And that matters more than anything."

You pretend to ponder on your decision, looking away with a small smile on your face before turning back to Leon. "Well... I guess I can stick around-"

The sentence barely leaves your lips before Leon pulls you in, kissing you with so much relieved passion that you momentarily feel dizzy.

And for once, you feel like you truly belong somewhere.

Yes. This feeling is definitely one you can get used to.

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Nobody: My inbox screaming and crying for help: 😓😭😭☠️ Me with 0 internet or data: 🧍🏾‍♀️💃📖

Hope you enjoyed!

More requests coming soon!

Requests are open!! <3

#viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon re4 #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy #re4 remake #leon kennedy x y/n

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kaciidubs · 3 months

Note

hi hi hi!!! today i offer to you: inexperienced!puppy!chan who's so so so eager to learn everthing you teach him. like imagine teaching him how to fuck you properly and he excels at it but in true chan fashion he has NO idea how crazy he's driving you. like imagine him burying his fingers deep into you, finding your sweet spot without even trying and moving his fingers in such a way that has your toes curling and back arching. and then he asks in the most sweet and innocent voice, "is this how i should do it? am i doing it right?" also puppy!chan (or any kind of chan for that matter) THRIVES on your praise so call him your good boy once and he's doinh everything you tell him to. like just imagine training puppy!chan how to pleasure you and he takes in that information in SO quickly and applies it so quickly too. i'm just–yeah🥴

Hi hi, my darling! Puppy! Chan gets my gears going, but inexperienced puppy! Chan?? Yeah, this is a need. ❣ Word Count: 1.8k ❣ Warnings: Puppy Switch! Chris, Switch! Reader, fluff, smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, guided sex, praise, open ended ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Puppy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Love

Chris was a pleaser in every sense of the word, and you were no exception - if he could do something to make you happy, he'd do it in the blink of an eye.

So, when it came to the concept of being intimate with you, he was more than willing to start from ground zero; learning what touches made you shiver, where you liked being kissed, and how he could get you to melt into him without even getting your shirt off.

Through this experience you happened to learn that he was very eager to be bossed around - brown eyes watching you intensely as he listened to every syllable that left your lips, directing his body to do as you said like the good boy he was.

Of course, he had needs of his own - ways he wanted to see you fall apart that haunted his waking thoughts like a beautiful nightmare.

"I... I'd really like to finger you, love."

You had to stop yourself from lovingly laughing at his timidness, clocking the blush on the tips of his ears from a mile away - ever the earnest lover.

"Okay, baby - want me to show you how?"

With his eager nod more than sufficient for confirmation, you tossed your phone to the side and began setting the stage - your bed - for his personal lesson.

"I'm sure you don't need a formal introduction to my pussy, do you?" You giggled as you laid on the bed, a pillow propped under your head for support as you watched him wiggle his way between your spread legs.

If there was a way to describe his face during moments like this, it would have to be awe inducing - no matter how many times he'd seen you naked, intimately or in passing, he looked as if his world had stopped and you were the only person that mattered.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as slightly faded orange curls brushed his forehead, "No, I don't." Parting your folds with his index and middle, a shiver ran down his spine at the faint shine of your arousal, "Hi, beautiful."

Within your time together, he was considerably acquainted with your cunt - keeping his head between your legs for so long you could still feel the phantom touch of his tongue days later - but he was insistent on taking things slow so he could treat you the way you deserved when he had the proper chance to, and you weren't complaining at all.

Where he wanted to learn how to pleasure you in ways that didn't directly involve his dick, you wanted to see just how well he would put his lessons to use down the - unknowingly short - line.

It didn't take long for the slow, languid curls of his tongue, and the subtle pressure of the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, to have you melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

"Y-You can start using your fingers if you want, baby," You breathed, threading your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp earning you a low groan in return.

Chris pulled away a second later, looking up at you with lust blown eyes, "Are you sure?"

"If you don't use yours, I'm gonna use mine, Christopher."

Taking your threat to heart - and pocketing it for a future session - he dragged his index finger through your spit-slicked folds before gently prodding at your slit.

"Tell me-"

"-if it hurts, I know - it's just the first finger, it'll be fine."

And you were right, his finger parting your walls with ease due to how wet you were already - the both of you letting out matching sighs of relief and awe.

"You're so warm." He seemed to talk more to himself than to you as he slowly pumped his finger in and out, eyes trained on the way his skin shined with your arousal.

If this were the past you would've been embarrassed from the intense stare and almost curious prodding, but with Chris things were different - you welcomed the curiosity sprinkled into his tone, and the awe that sparkled underneath the warm adoration he exuded.

"You know," you hummed, easily catching his attention, "instead of using your index finger, you can use your middle and ring fingers, puppy - it's more comfortable that way."

Nodding dutifully, his finger left you slowly, only to be brought up to his mouth and slip past his plush lips.

Sure, you've seen him lick your arousal from his lips plenty of times before, but watching the pure euphoric flutter of his eyes as he sucked his finger clean had you clenching around air - he was going to be the death of you, and you could only imagine how it would be when you two finally took it to the next level.

He released his finger with a satisfied moan, "Have I ever told you how fucking delicious you taste?"

A teasing smile curled your lips, "Hm, once or twice."

"Well let's make it three times," bringing his hand back to your pussy, he traced his fingers around your entrance once more, "you taste delicious, baby - I don't think I can survive without it at this point."

You wished you could attribute the roll of your eyes to his dramatics, but as his thick, knobby fingers stretched your walls, your head fell back against the pillow as a moan floated past your lips.

Even with just two fingers he was able to reach spots you could just barely get to on your own, and this fact alone had you twitching in anticipation.

"Should I..." Chris licked his lips, mesmerized by the snug fit on his fingers within you, "Can I keep going?"

"Yeah, yeah- god, it feels amazing already."

Soon his fingers were gliding in and out of you at a decent speed as he got used to the motion, going faster as your breathing picked up before slowing down just as your moans became frequent - continuing this dance of push and pull that kept you in a delicious limbo.

A particular curve of his fingers on an outward drag had your hips jolting, a shocked gasp breaking through a breathless moan.

"Oh- Fuck!"

"Are you okay?"

Your eyes snapped open, looking down to shoot him a confused look until you were met with innocent worry - he hadn't done it on purpose.

"I'm- I'm okay, you just- Ah!"

Despite his apparent worry, the movement of his hand didn't stop, and you were yet again subjected to the graze of his fingers against your g-spot.

"I found it, hm?"

You could only reply with frantic nods, melting against the sheets as he kept his pace steady with the occasional curl of his fingers to keep you on your curled toes.

"B-Baby, faster."

"Faster?"

Feeling the bed shift slightly, his lips left a fleeting kiss on the inside of your thigh before you felt his body partially hover over yours; lips now seeking home on the crook of your neck.

This reprieve was short lived as his rhythm sped up without warning, your back arching as moans vibrated your vocal chords. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the t-shirt he shockingly kept on, gripping the cotton in your fists.

"O-Oh my god, Chris!"

His panted breaths rolled along your neck while muted grunts caught against your skin; the sounds of your breathless moans and slick squelches of your arousal filling his ears.

"You can- Fuck- U-Use your thumb to rub my clit, puppy."

"Yeah? But I won't be able to go as hard..."

"It's okay - please, I just need more, baby."

Pulling his head from your neck, he took in your fucked out expression as he stilled his hand to press his thumb against the small bundle of nerves, rotating in small circles just like he usually did with his tongue.

When you flinched he pulled away, the beginnings of an apology forming on his lips until you stopped him in his tracks.

"No, no - you're doing great, Channie, just - not too hard, and move your thumb a little to the left."

He nodded, adjusting his thumb with a tilt of his head, "Right here?"

A small giggle escaped you, "My left, puppy."

Noting the blush darkening his ears, he made the change yet again and the result was more than he could've ever expected; your pussy clenching around his fingers as your eyelids fluttered, a familiar haze fogging your eyes.

"Like this?" He mused, curling his fingers in a 'come hither' motion for additional stimulation, "Am I doing it right?"

You keened, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as you nodded, "M-Mhm, you're doing s-such a good job, puppy- Oh, fuck- you're amazing, baby."

His heart swelled at the praise - much like his dick currently confined underneath his boxer briefs - and he focused his efforts on adding minute thrusts of his hand while keeping up the flicks of his thumb.

Unfinished sentences fell from your lips like breaths of air, a jumble of praises and half-baked thoughts breaking up whimpers and moans that you had no intentions of holding back.

"You're so pretty like this," he breathed softly, drinking in the furrow of your brow, the faint glisten of drool at the corner of your lips, "fucking beautiful, baby. You're squeezing my fingers so tight - you're close, yeah? Gonna come for me?"

You made a noise, something you hoped was a sound of agreement underneath the endless whimpers of his name.

Chris leaned down to brush his lips against yours, a soft, tender motion that had your heart soaring and your orgasm rocketing you into outer space without so much as a warning.

Your back arched as you pulled at his shirt - at this point, you'd be surprised if it hadn't torn from the force - as your cum soaked his fingers and the curve of your ass.

His hips bucked against your thigh, moaning against your mouth as he fingered you through your high with gentle strokes.

It didn't take long for you to come back to your senses, a breathless laugh shaking your shoulders while you released your death grip on his poor wrinkled shirt.

"You... You are way too good at that," blinking up at him, you narrowed your eyes playfully, "are you sure you haven't fingered anyone before?"

That wonderfully high pitched, squeaky laugh escaped him, "I swear I haven't!" Slowly pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, he made a show of licking the pads, "I guess I'm just a fast learner, you know?"

Grabbing his wrist, you slipped those same fingers into your mouth, moaning at your taste around his digits and licking them clean before releasing them with a soft pop.

"In that case..." You lifted your leg slightly, brushing your thigh against his hard on with a sly grin, "Can you teach me how to use my hands?"

[unedited]

#✧. ┊ kacii answers #✧. ┊ lovely bahng-chrizz #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan x reader

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laura1633 · 3 months

Text

Fic list and introduction Thought I would add a pinned post as a bit of an intro and also to provide a list of some of my stories (which are contained below the cut). My blog is mostly Lestappen related although I do post other F1 bits and pieces from time to time. I am a huge Max Verstappen fan so I am always happy to talk about Max, although only in a positive sense because I want to try and keep away from negativity as much as possible on this blog. I also adore Charles and not just in a Lestappen sense. I love Charles' racing style and I love it most when Max and Charles are battling on track. There are various other drivers I like such as Oscar, Fernando, Alex and more.

My ao3 name is - LaurawritingF1 I have written far too many stories to list them all here but I have included quite a long list of Lestappen fanfics I have written below the cut. I have tried to organise them into bottom Charles, bottom Max, omegaverse, silly, cute and drama. Feel free to send my any questions you have about any of my stories but please know that I am really still practising and learning so please try and be nice. Also please check the individual tags on each story on ao3 as there is a large variety. It's not a full list and doesn't include the other pairings I have written for (inc Landoscar, Maxiel, Max/Oscar), all my other fics can be found on my ao3 page.

Feel free to send me any questions about anything x

********** Links to various ao3 fics:

Bottom Charles: Good Boy - Multi Chapters - Trainee sub Charles and soft Dom Max. All the gear, no idea - Large cock Max, Size queen Charles. My first time - Virgin Charles. Daddy - Charles accidentally calls Max daddy. Curious - Charles' first experience with rimming. Princess - Max giving Charles the babygirl treatment. Nice Guy - Max comes to Charles' rescue when he is handcuffed to the bed Jealous - Max cuckolds Charles and Charles realises he is jealous of his girlfriend My Pretty Princess - AU -Multi Chapter - F1 driver Max and Camboy Charles. Safe - sub Charles safe words out of a scene, Dom Max gives him aftercare. Two Minutes - Charles tied up and vibes whilst Max is in a meeting. Solo - Charles lets Max watch him masturbate. Keeping warm - Charles cock warming Max to help him relax. Wake up call Charles riding Max whilst the Dutchman is asleep Like a Prayer - Sexy Priest Max and sex in a church I do - Multi Chapters - Angst with happy ending - Sex in a church Save a Bull, Ride a Thigh - Charles rides Max's thighs after a padel game How to properly care for your boyfriend’s thighs; A lesson by Charles Leclerc Red - Angst - Max fucks Charles in front of Charles' boyfriend Two Things - A developing relationship told through sex. No way at all - Max and Charles in a M/M/F threesome but interested in each other.

Bottom Max: Sounds from above - Charles hears Max having sex in the apartment upstairs The Sweetest Deal - AU - Sponsor Charles/Driver Max - Babygirlification Favourite Activity - Developing relationship told through sex 50 shades of red - Charles praises Max and makes him blush Pretty Cute - Charles telling Max how pretty he is The Auction - Dom Charles/sub Max - Charles bids on a night with Max All Yours - Multi chapters - ongoing - Dom Charles/sub Max 5 times Charles helps soothe Max to sleep - inc non sexual bondage Picture perfect - Max and Charles get Grindr Fast learner - Virgin Max Knock Out - Charles walks in on Max masturbating Can't even get it started - Frustration for Charles means he can't perform You play the role so well - Virgin Max Your hands on me - Charles chokes Max as he fucks him Earn it - Bratty sub Max and Dom Charles Late night question - Max is horny so goes to Charles - topping from bottom Pretty in red - A history of Max's experiences wearing panties Still Pretty in Red - Max in panties (again) A not so private show - AU - Camboy Max / Driver Charles Feel nothing. Feel something. Feel .... Charles is upset and needs to fuck it out A Late Night Snack - Charles eats Max out. Sweet like sugar - AU - Sugarbaby Max and Sugar Daddy Charles Other: Misunderstanding - Hand job - Max is oblivious to Charles' flirting with him An outfit fit for a surprise Charles in a crop top and Max masturbating over his waist Practice makes perfect - Max help Charles practice his blow jobs Pens, fingers and most definitely cock … - Max has an oral fixation Fia approved stress relief - Charles uses a sex doll that looks like Max, Max watches You're Hot - Charles praising Max in front of the mirror and giving him a blow job The Impact of errors - AU - boss Max spanks secretary Charles Red, Don't leave - Max providing Charles with aftercare Coming together - Soulmates - AU Porn start Charles and F1 driver Max Omegaverse Peaches and cream - Chussy - Alpha Max eating Omega Charles out Flush - AU - Chussy - Alpha Mob boss Max fucking Omega Charles The Eight - Omega Charles in a drug induced heat, locked in a room with alpha Max. Just need to get to you - Omega Charles gets his drink spiked, Protective Max. Chussy Whipped - Omega Charles makes Alpha Max watch him touch himselfSlick wet (at the thought of you) - Alpha Charles fingering Omega Max's pussy Tentacles: Don't touch what isn't yours - Max fucked by a tentacles sex toy Beautiful, unique and made for pleasure - Max has tentacles

Cute: A million times over - Max wakes from an operation and hits on his husband Charles Carburettor - Max and Charles have to look after a baby doll as part of grill the grid Tomato Soup - Max helps Charles prepare for his dinner date. Compliments -Max'f girlfriend never compliments him but Charles does. Falling in love - Love Confessions through a game involving a series of questions Just Pretend - Fake relationship trope - Angst with a happy ending A Different Kind of Hook up - Max asks Charles back to his to cuddle Caregiver Charles and Cute Little Max - Fluff - Multi chapters- Age regression

Silly: Zombies - Max gets scared by a zombie movie whilst at the cinema with Charles Heartbeat - Max is dressed up as a nurse and it's really affecting Charles' health. A shower, a spider and ...- - Max and Charles scared by a spider

Drama: On the line - Angst with happy ending - Charles gets his drink spiked In the morning - Angst with a happy ending - Max gets his drink spiked. Birthday Drunk - Multi Chapters - Falling in love over a series of Charles' birthdays Like a cat - Charles has a panic attack and Max looks after him I wish you could have known the person ... - Angst with happy ending - Coming out Not quite ready - Angst with hopeful ending - Max is outed against his will Drag me to the show - Charles shows Max his dresses - Supportive Max A love song - Angst with hopeful ending- Max comforting a stressed Charles Hitching a ride - Very Dark themes - True Crime AU - Hitchhiker Charles Enough for now - Angst with a happy ending - Max pining for Charles Red and Blue - Soulmates - Asexuality - Angst with happy ending Holding on to you - Charles navigates his relationship with asexual Max

The other Lestappen pairing: Firsts - Multi Chapter - Virgin Arthur - Falling in love - Max/Arthur Leclerc Threesomes/Foursomes/Groups involving Max/Charles: A Handful of Winner's Medals - Multi Chapter - Max fucked by multiple drivers The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Wolff - AU Anatomical model Max - Max x multi drivers An Unconventional Surprise - Top Max, Bottom Pierre, Bottom Charles Sleepover in 816 - Top Charles, Bottom Max, Top/Bottom Oscar Two's company; Three's even better - Pierre/Max/Charles - Free use bottom Max A weekend away - Foursome - Max/Charles/Carlos/Lando Three - Max/Carlos/Charles - Threesome from three perspectives with a twist Both so good - Lando and Charles give Max a blow job The Show - Carlando are stuck in a closet and watch Lestappen fuck Naughty or Nice - Competitive Threesome for Max's attention- Daniel/Max/Charles Double Date - subs Lando and Max with Doms Carlos and Charles A Lot to Handle - Max is too much for Daniel to handle alone - Daniel/Max/Charles A Little Bit of Max Time - Poly Daniel/Max/Charles There are other stories on my ao3 page <3

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miasbby · 1 year

Text

indefinitely ours.

(teacher!reader x teacher!Ellie x Abby)

summary : You're not willing to date nor looking for anyone, but Ellie Williams, the art teacher working in the school that hired you a year ago, is making you seriously doubt that decision. With her flirting, praises and constant touches, you're all but ready to give up and ask her out. That is, until you meet her girlfriend, Abby, who to your greatest shock seems very… curious about you.

word count : 7.2k (sorry)

note : this is my first fic in the tlou fandom ever, so it'll hopefully be good and i hope the characterization is okay! i wrote this to practice writing shorter fics and failed.... it probably won't get a part 2 but who knows!

warnings : smut with a bit of plot, female anatomy reader, occasionally mean!ellie and mean!abby but they love you<3, light objectification, degradation and exhibitionism, mention of anal, alcohol use and light intoxication, sub!reader, consent is respected but there’s a few bold moments, bit of a housewife kink, crying from overstimulation, threesome.

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An ordinary life is not what most aim for, but you have to be honest in that regard: there’s nothing you’ve craved to achieve more than the simple peace of life, a peace often found in modesty yet sought in extravagance.

The primary school you joined last year has fulfilled that goal in more ways than one, allowing you the safety of a job you spent years dreaming of, a kind group of colleagues that have befriended you ever since you first arrived, and a class made up of the most adorable group of pupils, all eager to learn and earn the good graces of their favorite teacher judging by how the blue of your classroom’s walls are now entirely hidden by drawings. It’s on the outskirts of the city, in a cute area where prices had not soared just yet when you first bought a house, and the neighborhood couldn’t be more welcoming.

Your time is well-spent: between preparing lessons, finding original ideas to keep a hyperactive group of six years old entertained, taking care of the renovations your new house still requires, and caring for a vegetable garden you did not expect to grow so well, it’s safe to say that you don’t have much time left for anything else, and that includes a relationship. You haven’t been looking, really, happy to settle down on your own until life picks up a slower rhythm and to make friends rather than losing yourself in back and forths. Your previous relationships were never particularly fulfilling and often ended up being on and off until you got tired of the uncertainty. You’re done with all of that.

The only person that could make you doubt the choice of celibacy, however, currently has her back turned to you, rummaging through a tiny box of chalk sticks on her desk. The kids are out at lunch and you know she tends to eat on her own in here instead of the break room where all of the teachers often meet up. Of course, you only chose to come get her because she’s been a good friend, not because of any ulterior motive…

“Planning to stay hidden in there for long or are you going to come out and eat?”

Ellie doesn’t even appear startled and you wonder if she could somehow sense your presence by the door. She throws the tiny, useless pieces in the trash, reminding you to filter through your own box of it, and turns to face you with that eternally smug smile, leaning back against the side of her desk. It’s a mess, but that’s not surprising coming from Ellie. Whether it’s because she’s the art teacher in charge in the school or because that’s simply in her nature, you’re not sure, but you know to no longer be shocked by the sight of paper and paintbrushes thrown randomly on her desk.

“Planning on distracting me for much longer or is that gonna stop at some point?” she answers back. “You can’t come in here looking like this and seriously expect me to think of lunch.”

And that is exactly why Ellie is making you reconsider your opinion on dating.

If it weren’t for the constant light flirting you still don’t know how to read into, you think that handsomely sweet face would have convinced you anyway. It’s not that Ellie is your style, it’s that you’re convinced no one on this planet could be more attractive to you. Today’s look isn’t helping either: that opened cargo shirt barely hides the simple white tank top she must own in four identical copies and doesn’t do much to conceal the tight, sculpted lines of her arms, blues veins running down to paint-stained fingers.

Oh, if only you could stop thinking about how they’d feel dipping into the heat spreading from your clit down to your entrance, filling an emptiness that rings between your legs as much as it does in your heart. Unfortunately, such luck cannot be granted to you. Not yet, and perhaps not ever.

“You’re not flattering yourself out of coming with me.” You slide your hand down to the doorknob and motion for Ellie to follow you out, but she shakes her head, grabbing her phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

“Sorry,” she says, smile dropping with hesitation before she continues. “The girlfriend forgot her lunch at home and I’ve gotta go get it for her. But I’ll see you tonight, we’re still grabbing drinks with the team, right?”

You blink, cheeks straining from the efforts required to keep your smile up even as it turns dishonest, and try to make sense of the word she just uttered, any heat in your belly extinguished by an ice storm. Did she say girl friend or… girlfriend? Why would anyway refer to their friend that way, though… Stop lying to yourself, you got the meaning right on the first try.

Your heart does not break per se, but it skips a few beats you’re incapable of missing. In the few months you got to know each other, Ellie never mentioned a girlfriend nor did she introduce anyone to you.

Well, there goes your only temptation for a relationship. Celibacy it will have to be.

“Of course. See you tonight.”

If Ellie notices the light dim in your eyes, she doesn’t show.

—

That evening, you hesitate until the very last second about going home and finding a new show worth obsessing about or going out as promised. Ellie doesn’t give you much of a choice, however, when she shows up in your classroom right after the last student filters out with his father and pulls you out of your seat, refusing to take no for an answer.

(If it’s the request that convinces you or the strong hold she has on your wrist, you’re not sure. But you still let her tug you to your car anyway.)

The ‘team’ as referred to earlier consists of five other teachers whose classrooms are all sharing a hallway with yours and with whom you spend your Friday evenings in a local beer bar next door, a place Ellie first dragged you all into when you were still relative strangers, to celebrate your arrival. Your usual table is free when you arrive, Mel and Ellie right behind you, and you suppose a beer might be the best way to forget about your stupid little crush and the shame eating at your insides for having taken friendly banter as flirting for months now.

Overall, the night is fun, and after a few well-placed jokes at your expense, you finally manage to leave what happened earlier behind and enjoy yourself. Unfortunately, whatever superior being out there who’s decided you should, after a year of knowing each other, finally get to know all about Ellie’s girlfriend, is not on your side today.

“Oh, hey Abs!” Mel waves behind where you and Ellie sit, still somehow pressed up against each other, and your friend immediately brightens up, turning around to face someone. “Have you finally decided to join us? I thought you’d never leave that work of yours for even one night a week.”

“Maybe next week if she forces me to come.” The woman comes into view and immediately rests a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, smirking down at her before her eyes travel to you and stay locked onto your own for one second too long for it not to feel somehow… knowing. “But nah, I only got here to take Ellie home. I bet she drank too much to drive and that none of you would have been able to convince her not to take her car.”

Mel laughs, joined by the others, and even you have to agree on that. Ellie is particularly stubborn on the average day, but she gets even worse after three beers and a few shots.

“I’m fine, come on… I could drive on my own, a few beers have never killed me.”

The problem is, she says that while stretching an arm over the booth seat, enveloping your shoulders and tugging you closer to her side, and the only explanation for doing that in front of that literal goddess-looking muscle-paradise girlfriend of hers has to be the alcohol. ‘Abs’ raises a curious eyebrow but her smile never dies, and you look away to focus on the bottle clutched in your hand, guts turning into a mix of nervousness and shame that does not blend well with alcohol.

Abby stays around for a bit. The whole time, her eyes remain on you, taking in the features of your face, sweeping over your figure and translating what you would interpret as unabashed attraction if it came from anyone else. It’s like she’s trying to memorize your face, your body, your soul. Like she means to lay an invisible mark on your heart you’ll feel with every beat, right next to the one Ellie has unconsciously placed there long ago.

The arm only leaves its place on your shoulders when who you now know as Abby urges Ellie to go, and you leave soon after, sitting in the dark of your car for five minutes before your head clears enough for you to drive.

That was… definitely something. But you could unfortunately not explain what in any way.

The next time you see Abby does not offer any sort of clearer explanation as to why the mood always seems odd around you and Ellie, and particularly so when she’s there with you.

She comes around for drinks for the first time in months the following week and turns your offer to change seats down, seemingly fine with sitting next to you, her girlfriend on your other side. Her presence warms the hearts of everyone around the table but yours, stressing you out beyond sanity. You know you didn’t do anything wrong and that it’s probably a good thing that you learned of Ellie’s seemingly very joyful and fulfilling relationship now rather than after an attempted kiss or a date proposal. Yet, you cannot help but feel unsure around her - like she knows, like she can read through your heart and flick through its pages until its secrets have been bared.

Abby never talks to you nor mentions you in her conversations, yet, she’s always got an eye trailed on your figure, always silently insists on you being aware that you’re taking all of her attention.

And Ellie, well… Ellie has not changed, and that’s probably where the actual problem lies.

She still smiles at you with that signature smugness you know is only reserved for her girlfriend. She still flirts and teases and touches, still makes comments about how prettily you blush and how well that shirt fits you and you never know what to answer to any of those things. This time again, one of her arms is spread over your shoulders, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of Abby’s shirt on your other side, and if anyone were to look, they’d probably think you’re dating either of them - if not both.

Your thoughts are interrupted by her voice, and you almost let go of the glass of water you requested earlier when its now familiar murmur tickles your ear. “I like this skirt. Is it me you got it for? I’m sure Abby would like it just as much.”

Poorly disguised shock shines in your eyes but Ellie appears unphased, not even bothering with a glance at where her girlfriend listens to Mel vent about a fight between two of her students. You clear your throat, avoiding the heaviness of her stare, and shake your head timidly, scared to voice out your thoughts or to be heard. The fabric isn’t anything short per se, but it rode up your thighs through the night, and you’re suddenly far too aware of where Abby’s glances might have led to earlier. Ellie’s only response is a chuckle.

You think that’s the end of it but that’s without counting on the end of the night - when everyone leaves but Ellie insists you stay around some more, and Abby doesn’t show any interest in moving away, her thighs spread and pressing you further into Ellie. The arm behind your back moves and this time, you can’t control the way your body jumps when she places a hand just above your knee, stroking the tight fabric of your skirt.

“So,” you begin, trying to break the silence. “How long have you two been together?”

Abby takes a swing of her beer and your eyes follow the bulging muscle of her biceps until Ellie reminds you of her presence by patting your thigh affectionately. “Three years now. We met when Abby came around the school to renovate the gym with her crew and ended up moving in two months later. She’s a carpenter.”

“Oh,” you exclaim, interested but also still very much nervous. “That’s definitely helpful to have around at home. How long have you been doing this for?”

It’s the first time you address her directly and the kindness you’re met with feels almost surprising. You don’t think you would be kind to someone your girlfriend is two inches away from touching inappropriately right under your nose, but you suppose you should be glad that’s the case here.

“Ever since I was a kid, really. Being a carpenter didn’t exactly fit my father’s plans but he always encouraged me anyway when I saw how much fun I had fixing things and building my own. What about you? What got you to into teaching?”

Tension leaves your back altogether when her answer reflects the smile perched on her lips and the mirth shining in her eyes. “Children, really. It started with babysitting and then all I could think about was teaching.��

Abby’s eyes dip down to your lips. “That’s cute.”

“I told you she’s adorable,” Ellie interrupts. “And beautiful too, isn’t she? I knew she’d be your type.”

Your lips part to speak but before a protest can slip past them, Abby nods, smile turning almost predatory. “I’d say she’s your own just as much. You’ve always liked your girls a bit innocent.”

“I’m not-”

“Can you blame me, though?”

Abby pretends to think for a second and gets that knowing look again, reading through the blush spreading up to your ears and the fast ups and downs of your chest in ways you fail to understand yourself. Everything’s going too fast, like a ball bouncing from one side of the court to the other, and it suddenly feels like they’re discussing you, praising you, without even including you in the conversation anymore.

“No. I think I understand.”

Ellie chuckles, inching her hand higher up on your lap, and she allows the silence to persist for a moment longer before standing up to order another round for you. Abby never looks away. You’re still trying to comprehend what just happened, still failing to make sense of why your friend’s partner is staring at you like she’s considering the interest of throwing you over the table dirty with food crumbs and alcohol spills and flexing those fingers inside of your cunt instead of playing with the tip of her bottle.

“Oh, you’ve got some crumbs here,” Abby says, eyes flicking down to wear your shirt wraps tightly around your chest. You follow her line of sight, wondering how that could be when you didn’t eat any of the fries they ordered earlier, and find nothing. “Here, I’ll get them off for you.”

Before a word of gratefulness can echo between the two of you, your lips part in shock, a hand positioning itself right above your breast and arching a curious eyebrow, staring into the depths of your eyes. There’s no hesitation in the action, but rather a sort of anticipation you find yourself trapped into. “Is this alright?” she asks, the “Yes,” out by your lips before you can even make sense of what she means.

Deep down, you know what it means. Deep down, you’ve got a feeling Abby might have been familiar with you far before your recent introduction.

Once your agreement has been voiced, Abby startles you, immediately aiming for your right breast and gripping it with the whole length of her palm. A thumb rubs at soft skin only hidden by the light fabric of your shirt, almost transparent, not thick enough to act as a proper barrier, and you can feel it all - the heat of her hand, its roughness, how it’s thick enough, big enough to effortlessly envelop all of one breast.

It’s the first time her eyes have moved away from the trance they had yours stuck into, her stare dipping down to where she pretends to rub at your shirt, only reminding you of the absence of a bra to truly cover you. Your nipple hardens under her palm and that seems to be the goal because her hand changes sides, repeating the process, teasing and rubbing, the cotton fabric too rough for the sensitive little bud. Your thighs rub against each other, failing to get any sort of release from the pressure burning your cunt, hips almost bucking in a silent plea to be filled up by those very same fingers.

Abby smiles, still kind, still honest, and shifts her hand only to roll it between two fingers, pulling a wet moan from your lips you fear the people behind you might catch. “See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” And just like that, she pulls away, hand settling back around her beer, leaving you to deal with the wetness soaking your underwear and the blush heating your face, shining like a broken christmas light.

“Y-yeah.” It’s odd that you even manage to speak when flames circle hardened nipples, driving you into unknown depths of desire, but you’re proud to say you at least manage a coherent sound. “Thank you.”

When Ellie comes back, conversation follows a course far more normal, and if it weren’t for the hooded eyes, the pulsing heat, and the hand claiming its spot back on your lap, you’d think you hallucinated all of the tension.

The state of your underwear when you strip down before a shower later that night, however, is all the proof you need. Yet, you fail to truly comprehend what happened. The innocence that almost shone in Abby’s eyes as she touched you is impossible to make sense of, and the next morning, you’re no longer sure of what her intentions truly were.

Did she mean to tease you like Ellie has been doing - as a friend, a friend who has a pretty interesting definition of the word platonic but a friend nonetheless? Or was this more?

You’re not sure, but if anything, you won’t be the one to bring up the question just yet.

Ellie and Abby are coming over to your house to help with the endless renovations you’ve been making. And no, it wasn’t your idea.

You’ve been avoiding thinking about Abby and how she’s just as illegally fine as who you already considered to be the hottest woman alive, and although ignoring Ellie is impossible, you at least made some progress this past week with accepting the flirting as some meaningless fun. When you complained about the difficulties you’ve been having with painting the ceilings of two rooms and fixing the guest room bed, however, Ellie suggested that they come over to help and, well, how could you turn down such a nice proposal?

That’s how you end up watching them by the kitchen’s window as they relax around a glass of iced tea in the garden, cheeks stained with light grey paint and arms bared, water running in the sink and acting as the background noise to your current fantasies.

The mind owns a power the heart only dreams of having, capable of eternal wanderings uncontrolled by even the strongest wills.

Yours has not resisted purposeless dreams. Dreams that once involved Ellie, a sweet craving for what could perhaps come to exist in the realm of reality - a craving for late-night guitar sessions and paintings in bold colors, for rough palms to sculpt your heart into submission and teasing smirks wiped away by kisses. Dreams that now involve someone else, a person you have yet to truly understand but who seems to perfectly fit a puzzle from which you did not believe a piece lost. Her body rings with a rigidity that’s a lot more pronounced, yet her heart appears softer, willing to lead you further into the depths of a euphoric swamp.

A blurry motion startles you out of your thoughts and you blink to find the water is still running, the time still passing. Ellie is waving at you and Abby is staring with a raised eyebrow of curiosity.

You smile, waving back, and turn off the tap.

Fantasies are just that, unfortunately. You’ll have to make do with your imagination because it seems Abby isn’t intending on repeating what you’re getting more and more convinced was meaningless teasing anytime soon.

They spend the next weekend at your house too, fixing broken cupboards and a tall wardrobe you couldn’t figure out how to close fully, helping with the garden and any heavy objects you need to move around.

It comes to a point where you decide that if you can’t have either of them, then dreaming is fine. The only problem is that you end up doing that a lot, and getting caught is inevitable.

“Could I borrow your shower?” asks Ellie once the day reaches its end, the sun freefalling on the horizon. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” Abby has fetched a chair for the same reason but you know how much Ellie like to sit beside you. Her girlfriend’s presence has not stopped the oncoming stream of cuddles she requires from you, and you’re more than happy to be held, touch-starved since the end of your last relationship.

“Sure. I’ll get the food ready.”

You stand from the couch to head for the kitchen but before you can disappear, Ellie grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it up, revealing a glistening, tight stomach in what feels like a slow motion to you but is surely a very normal pace for anyone else. The fabric slides off her shoulders and gets thrown straight to Abby’s face but your brain is in no way capable to register anything but newly revealed skin and soft curves hidden under a white sports bra.

“Feel free to join me,” she adds, teasingly, and you know it has to be directed at Abby who, it seems, is just as affected as you are judging by the darkened gaze she keeps directed at Ellie, but if that’s the case, then you cannot explain why Ellie is staring right at you as she says it before turning around and leaving for the bathroom.

It’s that gaze you see once they’re gone that night, writhing on top of your bed, covers thrown to the floor and pillow wet with your spit. It’s that gaze encouraging a second, then a third finger to fit into your cunt, the pressure too much yet so far from what you wish for, from how well you know they would both fill you, breaching past undesired tightness and taking all that you’re willing to give.

And it’s their voices, blended in as one, whispering praise into your ear and urging you to let go when you finally fall over the edge, tears pooling in your eyes and teeth aching from the marks they’ve left in that poor pillow.

“You know,” you begin, words not slurring but speech clearly affected by physical exhaustion and beer. “I thought you were flirting with me before you suddenly mentioned your girlfriend.”

A chuckle greets you, but you can’t tell if it comes from Abby or Ellie, both of them cuddling on the couch in front of you as you lay on the fluffy chair you bought for decoration purposes but that’s actually pretty amazing to use when sleepy. The night has fallen and you spent a lot of time in the garden today while Abby watched over you and Ellie finished with painting touch-ups, explaining the tiredness numbing your arms and the effects of the alcohol.

Your eyes remain closed and you shift around when air tickles the bottom of your stomach, your shirt having ridden up to reveal skin.

“What if I was?” and this time, you know it’s Ellie - sure, because it sounds like her, but also because she’s the one who likes teasing you the most.

You huff, internally rolling your eyes. “With a girlfriend like Abby, trust me, you were not. You’d be dumb to flirt with anyone else or want to kiss anyone else,” you say, voice barely above a murmur. That second beer should not have been handed in your hand, but Ellie has always been a bad influence and Abby drinks them with little effort. Slowly, you half-whisper, “Bet her lips are so soft.”

Abby laughs this time, reminding you of her presence, but you’re too far gone to care. “I think yours would put up a great fight in a contest,” she says, the smile evident in her voice. “Maybe even win, who knows. I know I wouldn’t mind trying you out.”

“Hey!” Ellie interrupts, “I get to try her out first. I found her. You would want me first, wouldn’t you?”

It takes a while for you to register the question and understand you’re being spoken to. “I think I want the both of you… together.”

Someone’s breath hitches, but you fall asleep before you can find out whose.

All you remember the next morning is strong arms holding onto the back of your thighs and your back carrying you up the stairs, a pair of sweet lips leaving a kiss on your forehead, and the throbbing traces of a hand on the naked skin of your stomach.

That must have been a fairly nice dream.

You’re in the kitchen when things truly take a turn you did not expect to happen in reality, breaching the realm of fantasies and fully stepping into your life - your peaceful and joyful life that, as you will soon come to realize, was actually missing two precious souls to reach the desperate form of completion you sought.

Abby is drying the dishes you’re washing and Ellie is… well, she’s simply being herself, avoiding any sort of chore and whistling in the living room as she chooses what movie you’ll all be watching tonight. The mood has been particularly tense today and this time, you’re glad to say it’s not your fault. Abby has been especially attentive to you, asking about your day, your past, and the shape you imagine your future to take, casually exchanging indecipherable looks with Ellie. They’re more than familiar with your house now yet they’ve never acted more like strangers scared of trespassing.

If you didn’t know better, you would think of them as almost… afraid.

Fortunately, the tension left as soon as night fell and you all settled back into soothing habits. At least, that’s what you think, until a shadow looms over your back, blocking the naked lightbulb from shining light on the last plate in your hand, and you realize that Ellie isn’t as busy as she made it out to be.

“Dinner was great, thanks for preparing all of it again,” she says, supporting her weight with one hand on the countertop and the left one innocently resting on your hip. Her touch is welcomed and familiar, her palm cupping the curve to perfection. “Anyone ever told you you’d make the perfect little wife?”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes although you know she won’t be able to see it. “If that’s truly the case, there’d be a lot more people pilling up at my door, or at least one person. I think you two are just terrible cooks in desperate need of a chef.”

Abby shakes her head, nudging you with her elbow as she wipes water from a pack of forks. “You’re not wrong in thinking we’d wife you up in an instant if you wanted, but not because you’d be a great chef.”

“Yeah,” Ellie agrees, flexing her fingers where they rest on your hip. “I can think of a few other reasons. You’d be an amazing mother, for one, and you’re far more patient than either of us deserve.”

“And you’re ready to put up with her stubbornness, so a perfect match, really.” Abby’s comment makes you laugh but Ellie speaks again before you can tease her about her own issues with never doing as told.

“All of that, and I even bet you’d be such a pretty little thing to fuck.” Your hands freeze on where you’ve just put the plate away, tension seizing unready muscles. You blink, staring by the window, the night turning it into a mirror and reflecting the shock wild in your eyes. For a second, you’re convinced to have misheard. But the silence that follows tells the opposite story. Ellie’s close, suddenly, closer than she was before, and Abby’s hands have stilled as well, her body tight with stress. “I feel like we didn’t thank you properly for all the meals you’ve prepared for us. What do you think, Abby?”

At the edge of your vision, you can sense that Abby has given in and glances at you from the corner of an eye, the sound of her breathing audible, loud. “I think she very much likes politeness, and… it would be rude not to give back after taking so much, wouldn’t it?”

“Right. And what about you, um?” The hand on your hip slowly slides closer to your front before drawing back, again and again, in what feels like a maddening caress. “Do you think we should thank you? Together, I mean.”

Later, you’ll have more than enough time to consider just how stupid it was for you, at that precise moment, to doubt the true meaning behind Ellie’s suggestion. There’s a part of you that yearns for this to be real, for it to feel real, but that part cannot be allowed to exist because it is directly connected to a risk of disappointment you’re not sure you would survive. So, when you reply a breathy little, “Yes,” you don’t actually expect what follows.

“Good girl.”

A whine spills past your lips but the reason behind its existence is blurry - is it the praise, vibrating through your lungs and soaking your cunt, or is it the hand that fully slides against your front, rubbing at the seam of your jeans frustratingly right above your heat, the other suddenly palming the curve of your ass and roughly kneading skin? You think you’ll never know for the first moan, but the next one is inevitably due to the second pair of hands finding a place to have some fun of their own.

“I can feel how soaked you are already,” Ellie says, tone teasing, taunting and forcing past your defenses. “Are you sure you didn’t expect this to happen? How often did you fuck yourself wishing it was us, hmm, pretty girl?”

You think that question should not require an answer, mostly because you’re incapable of giving any, incapable of getting that brain of yours to think and function properly. But Abby doesn’t seem happy with your silence, and she finally decides to remind you of her presence.

“We asked you a question, sweetheart.” Her voice startles you and your head turns to face her, your heart soothed by the admiration and the awe and the desire reflected in usually tight features. She’s smiling, not that usually kind expression but one that’s almost amused, and you realize you’re in serious, serious trouble with these two. Two fingers seize you by the chin, pushing it upward, and a thumb rubs at your bottom lip. “How empty did you feel thinking about how good we could take care of you?”

“I- I didn’t-” Ellie’s nails sink into the flesh of your ass, reprimanding, and Abby tuts, shaking her head disappointedly.

“It’s alright,” she adds. “You can be honest with us. There’s not a single time we fucked since you started working here that we didn’t think about you, about how complete you’d make us.” And you’re going to process that at some point, but now will not be that time. Not when she continues to speak, stealing any hope for coherency from under your feet. “We’ll take care of you now, though. Come on, Ellie, don’t be a tease.”

Ellie hesitates, hands still, fingers flexing. They stare at each other with blazing heat in what you think could be a fight for dominance you’re not sure to make sense of when they could just take out all of that on you.

“You better beg for it.”

When the gearwheels begin to roll again, you lose all sense of reality.

It’s like they both observed you for months, like they figured out what button to push and with how much strength, what you love and what you’re too ashamed to admit you need. Chills of shame erupt on your arms at the idea, worsened by how smoothly Ellie works your body.

“Let’s get these off you,” she mutters, lips hovering right next to your nape, inches away from a kiss. “You won’t be needing them around us anymore.”

There’s possessiveness in her words and there’s possessiveness in how fast she slips the button of your jeans off and tugs on the material, slowly, as if to admire what is finally hers to worship and use as she deems fit. Abby growls, watching with a well-trained eye as the tight fabric slides over your ass, and her hand moves down to press against your throat, keeping your back shamefully arched, ass raised for their eyes to feast onto. Your pants end halfway down your thighs, and you have to say there’s nothing surprising about Ellie’s eagerness to get to the source of her desires, hot between your thighs.

“Abby told me I’d love your ass. Guess she wasn’t wrong.” You expect your underwear to follow next but she decides not to bother with that. “Ever gotten fucked there before, or are you keeping that tight little hole for when we decide to use it?”

“N-never, I- I don’t-”

Abby sighs, shaking her head warningly. “Ellie… focus.”

“Right, sorry. We’ll keep that in mind for another time, you’re ours now anyway, aren’t you? Our pretty little toy.”

You’re all but ready to cry when fingers slides into the front of your underwear, familiar roughness perceptible in the actions, immediately drenched in your desires. Your cunt aches, your core throbs, and your nipples harden. A cocktail of needs that can only be sated by much more than what you’re given. Efficient fingers part your folds before expertly reaching that little bud of sensitiveness at the top of your mound, circling it, pinching it, driving you crazy with it.

But that’s not what truly seals the first release of the night. That only comes when Abby decides to fully join in on the fun.

Fingers unbutton your shirt until it parts to reveal the pale pink bra that matches the current dark pink of your panties, only abandoning your neck until the offending lace has been pushed right under your breasts and returning to its hold. You think Abby’s going to kiss you, for a moment, but she’s only reveling in the hot puffs of air slipping past your lips and trying to swallow down the guttural moan that vibrates in your throat when Ellie decides she wants to take the next step.

The hand that had for now been palming your ass travels closer to your center and tugs flimsy fabric out of the way carelessly. You’re not given a warning when the first finger breaches past your entrance, only the sound of Ellie spitting on her fingers for unnecessary lube and that feeling of needing frustratingly more. A whine lodges itself at the back of your throat, and they both laugh, only turning your frustration worse.

You want to move and fight back, tell them you’re more than capable of taking charge yourself. But there’s something about being treated as a toy meant to receive pleasure, about being admired and taken and praised, about that second finger joining the first and filling the tightness of your cunt, that forces you into a soothing form of submission, allowing every touch and taking them willingly.

Abby palms at one breast, rolling a nipple under the strong surface in a touch that translates all of her strength. “Is that blush for us, pretty thing? You’re gonna come all over her hand like a good slut already, aren’t you?”

And, it’s cruel, but of course you do.

Ellie flexes her fingers, increasing the speed of her arm. You can’t see it, but you know veins must shy prettily all over her forearm and biceps must be bulging from the tightness required to fuck you like she does now - like she wants to pull orgasm after orgasm from your core until you no longer understand what it means not to feel the maddening pulse of a release coursing through your body like liquid fire. Abby turns meaner, rougher, pinching a nipple between two fingers and pressing the hand further into your neck, forcing you to follow its direction and standing further on your toes.

Four hands - teasing, fucking, taking.

Two souls tauntingly attracting your own into their orbit, sealing an invisible lock around your heart, your body, your being itself.

And sweet, sweet praise, whispered right under your ear, sending you into a release you’re helpless to control.

“Ellie, Abby… I-” The moan that travels from your chest and spills past your lips is rough, guttural, connected to the inhuman waves of pleasures rocking through your body. Your cunt clenches around the fingers still thrusting in and out of your center, clinging onto the digits until they’re forced to stop, Ellie breathing heavily in your ear. Abby kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth nibbling at sensitive skin and laying a mark you refuse to ever cover.

Your moan ends, broken off in tense breathing, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, and that’s when you catch the groan vibrating Ellie’s throat. It, too, falls into silence.

Abby swears against your skin, a deep, rough “Fuck,” that sends shivers down your spine.

“Told you she’d be the cutest little thing to corrupt,” Ellie teases, slowly sliding out of you, fighting against the tightness of your walls and your eagerness to be fucked into a stupid mess. “She’s all proper and shit but I could tell she’d love it.”

“I never doubted you.” Abby says, kissing the lone tear sliding down your cheek with all of the tenderness she can conjure. “Come on, let’s get her on a proper surface.”

Heat blooms on your cheeks when Ellie steps away to allow Abby to take you into her arms, the ground suddenly disappearing from under your feet. The way they talk about you like you’re not even there, like you’re too fucked out to understand a single word, would be shameful under any other circumstance. You know it’s only a game when Ellie takes advantage of finally facing you by planting a soft kiss on your forehead, pushing away a lazy strand of hair.

They begin to walk toward your bedroom like they perfectly know the way, and your vision turns dark right as they push the door open.

“Can you hold her open for me or have you been slacking at the gym?”

Your eyes remain closed, but your brain kickstarts itself into working properly again. You can feel the familiar linen of your sheets under your ass and soft naked breasts pressed against your back, another weight shifting in front of you on the bed.

The body behind yours shakes in rhythm with a chuckle and you recognize Ellie. “Can you still eat pussy or should we trade so I can show you? Sorry we didn’t plan for your strap, I thought she might have a cock lying around but… we’ll have to take care of that next time.”

“Fuck you,” says Abby half-heartedly, the sound followed by more shifting.

You’re fully aware again when Ellie grabs the back of your thighs and tugs them, spreading your legs and allowing air to tickle the slick still running from your center, drenched folds bared for anyone to use as they please.

“Come on, get to it. I know you’re hungry.”

Another pair of hands holds you by the ass and your eyes flutter open, hoping to catch sight of what you once dreamed about. Abby barely spares you a glance before she all but leaps to feast on your cunt, igniting a fire not yet extinguished.

“Abby… Abby…” You repeat her name like a plea, like a prayer. Your hips buck and trash around, your heart pauses and starts again, your releases come and come again right after each other until you exist no more, a broken toy a kid cannot help but continue to play with.

Lips circle your clit and suck, pull and deliver rough kisses. An expert tongue gathers slicks at your entrance and spreads it all over already drenched folds, eating rather than licking, a starved woman relishing in her first and last mean. It’s all too much, too soon, too sensitive, and you’re in no way capable of pulling away, four hands keeping you all tight and secure in their hold, a prisoner to your own pleasure.

“Keep them coming, pretty thing. I want your cunt red by the time we’re done with you tonight,” Ellie murmurs in your ear before resuming the path of tenderness her mouth trailing on down your neck.

You only find the strength left in yourself to follow that order.

An unwelcomed warmth burns your closed eyelids and you shift, attempting to escape its path. To your great despair, it doesn’t budge. A tired groan echoes in the room and you blink sleep back into your body, limbs stretching and encountering a soreness that did not exist before.

Oh. Right. Last night happened and… it was not a dream this time.

Fear seizes your heart for a moment and you quickly look around, scared to find the bed empty save for your body. A happy sigh of relief marks the moment you see them - Abby clinging to Ellie’s back, still sound asleep and temptingly naked, and Ellie holding onto your waist, staring up at you with a smug look and a kind smile.

“Morning,” she says, voice broken from sleep. “You didn’t think we’d abandon you, did ya?”

“N-no I… I’m just happy to see you.” You cannot control the dumb smile that widens on your lips, and Ellie’s smirk only widens, her hold pulling you back into the eternal depths of the sheets.

“We’re not going anywhere, try to get some more sleep.”

It’s a simple sentence, meaningless on the surface.

Yet, you know it’s more than that.

It’s a promise.

A promise for more, meant to suppress the doubts blossoming in your chest. A promise that they’ll be there when you awake again, and again, and again.

#ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie williams x abby anderson x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #abby anderson smut #ellie williams x abby anderson #ellabs

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femmefatalevibe · 10 months

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What are some things you would have done differently? The most important lessons you learned throughout the years?

Hi love. Great question!

Things I would've done differently:

Stopped taking on/internalizing people's emotions sooner and never apologizing for my needs

Not allow myself to feel responsible for other people's drama

Took warning signs of people's codependency and victim narratives more seriously earlier in life

Reached out to others that earned my trust for support and allow myself to be more honest/vulnerable with them rather than resorting to hyper independence

Spoke up for my genuine needs and desires more

Expressed and follow-through on my "no" consistently and unapologetically

Let go of the belief that guilt trips can be worth emotionally entertaining or investing in

Learned that it is okay to disappoint people. Understanding that I don't exist to make others happy or comfortable

Most Important Life Lessons:

When evaluating who is trustworthy, see whose words and values consistently line up with their actions. Those who contradict and make exceptions for themselves are too self-involved to see you as fully human

Always live your life for yourself. Discover your personal values and aspirations. Do what you need to do to live in alignment with who you truly are, and don't let others' opinions stop you from working towards your goals. Don't make personal life decisions based on other people's feelings or opinions

You're always allowed to say no or leave a situation/relationship if you feel drained or disrespected

Your chosen family can or cannot be comprised of people who share DNA or are related by marriage. All that matters is that you have mutual respect and unwavering support from the people who have earned this role in your life

Emotionally distance yourself from anyone in your life who dismisses your emotions or experiences, attempts to obtain ownership of your life experiences when they fit their narrative, or expects you to put their needs above your own

Taking well-thought-out social and professional risks can greatly enrich your life

Don't be afraid to reach out to ask for help, advice, or connection. Most other people want the same thing and are happy to chat if they're available. Don't fall into the trap of trying to fix everything yourself. Only selfish people have these unrealistic expectations of you

Your health and sanity are your most important assets

When in doubt, advocate for yourself. Learn to discern when to express empathy and/or when to double down & stand your ground

There are (next to) no rules for living a productive and fulfilling life. Once your basic needs are met, and all essential bills/taxes are paid, the only genuine success metric of your life path is whether it allows you to feel generally fulfilled and satisfied on a daily basis

Set and stick to your boundaries. Prioritize interdependent relationships. Avoid codependency like the plague

Learn to praise yourself for all of your wins – big and small. Life is hard enough. Find ways to celebrate yourself as often as you realistically can – even if it's just getting up on time or cooking a healthy meal that day

Hope this helps xx

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pretty-toru · 1 year

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cooking lessons (gojo x reader ft. found family)

☁️ You're wearing a cute apron over your attire as you commence a cooking lesson for Megumi, Tsumiki, and your boyfriend Gojo on a normal night like this because you believe that learning how to cook is an essential life skill. While you have your own personal cutting board, a sharp knife, and washed produce ready to be prepped, the three students across from you of the kitchen island have their own sets and ingredients as well.

☁️ "Eh, babe? Shouldn't I be over there with you? Won't I make an excellent helper from all those times I helped you make dinner?" Gojo crosses his arms with a pout. Of course, you expected him to make a fuss but the lack of cooking skills earned his place as a student along with the two adolescent step siblings. "And by excellent helper, you mean watching me cook while you sit on the counter and snack on everything? I think you're right where you should be, honey."

☁️ Tsumiki's holding back a giggle as Gojo ultimately accepts his position when he knows you're right, but he perks up when you mention if he's good you'll make everyone dessert tonight. Before you begin your instructions and demonstrations, you assure that there's really no wrong way to cooking since everyone has their own style and preference but it's important to be aware about food safety and handling.

☁️ After you showed them how to chop the veggies into rustic chunks for a simple curry recipe, you supervise the three and praise Tsumiki and Megumi for following directions and stick a gold star to their cheek. Gojo's eagerly waiting for his gold star as well but all he got was a "Nice job, Toru" and Megumi taunting him only flared his jealousy so he pulls you back by the waist and points to his cheek for his deserved sticker with a soft grunt. Meanwhile Tsumiki nudges her brother to be nice to their guardian(s).

☁️ Next is sauteing the three different kinds of vegetables and protein in the pot and you explain when to add which ones since they all have different cooking times. For this step, you have organized all the prepped veggies and each person is in charge with either cooking the thinly sliced beef, adding in the onions, carrots, and potatoes, then pouring the broth and letting it come to a simmer. Tsumiki and Megumi each get another gold star, while Gojo loses his for trying to sabotage Megumi by tickling his side as he was busy doing his task.

☁️ You allow the two step siblings to have a break by choosing what kind of dessert they want to have later, while Gojo's on rice duty as you watch him rinse three times and add enough water and pop it into the rice cooker. He's pouty for being starless to say the least, but you explain how it's dangerous when there's an open fire and someone can get hurt. Gojo does apologize and you tell him to be more careful next time since you know he likes being playful with the kids.

☁️ Once the veggies have softened, you call everyone back to the stove and have Tsumiki add the curry roux blocks and Megumi stir the pot until it's mixed thoroughly. Gojo starts setting up the table and laying down the utensils before he's gestured over for a taste test to see if anything needed to be added, and he gets a mouthful of salt under a layer of curry as Megumi gets him back when you were retrieving side dishes from the fridge. Safe to say, Megumi's star goes to Gojo and Tsumiki's the only one with three gold stars for best behavior.

☁️ Overall, the process was smooth except for some mischief but after gathering around the dinner table and looking at the successful finished product, knowing that you all made it together was a nice feeling and even more so when it tasted delicious. Megumi and Gojo make up by begrudgingly complimenting and affirming each other on their roles, and you tell Tsumiki she can choose whatever she wants to do for the next family outing for being amazing and reliable.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk imagines #jjk x reader

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360degreesasthecrowflies · 9 months

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Right sorry but I don't understand why some people, even people that seem otherwise reasonable, seem to have absolutely internalised corporate capitalism talk to the extent that it completely subsumes their own personality and (class) interests???

At work today we had what's supposed to be an evaluation where as a department we, about 40 people, talked about things that have been difficult this year and what we'd hope will improve next year.

So I talked about how this year I have worked a lot of cover, including for managers (2 pay bands above me) and for multiple colleagues at once who have been off, essentially doubling and at some times even tripling my workload - for extra stress and no extra money. I said (using corporate language to hint) that I wasn't always good at asking for help, meaning, undertone, none of you offered to help me out and just expected me to sit and take it because I need my existing salary.

So this was in small groups, in which the focus was firstly giving feedback, and secondly remembering to praise each other for our achievements.

Well the nominated speaker for our group comes on and immediately my story of struggling to do a large amount of extra tasks that are essentially literally taking advantage of someone in a position of little power, actively causing stress to myself at work, for no extra money or any kind of reward but 'helping out the team' is told to the group as "sometimes we had to take on extra responsibilities but that was good because it let us learn about our inner strength and learn more about the business, increasing our skills for the future".

Excuse me! That was not AT ALL what I was talking about!

I already work a valuable job in healthcare. I ALREADY have skills - HENCE I was able to cover for senior team members and keep everything running and going literally at the cost of my social life, mental and physical health. And you aren't even going to say thanks or well done?! In the meeting where that is meant to be the focus?? In fact you're actually going to remove my agency and reframe the story of my own struggle and sacrifice to help out that I told you into some kind of heartwarming Disney ending where the servant felt that the work was its own reward?!

No sorry, get to fuck with that.

Ironically as a result of the teambuilding, feedback, evaluation and celebrating success meeting, I've come out feeling absolutely disheartened. They were like robots. I wasn't the only one that's made sacrifices like this this year, but I was the only one who didn't try and reframe it into a positive, with a neat learning experience and lesson for the group at the end of it.

This is the same workplace that asked us what we would like to add to the workplace to improve our own wellbeing (I reiterate, working in a stressful healthcare provider) and then shot down everything we suggested, even those things that wouldn't involve paying us more or giving us more time off. We were told that we could work longer hours in order to be able to 'earn' a team 'lunch out' during the work day (that of course we would also pay for), or that we could do a 'wellbeing walk' while also having a meeting, so... not exactly an opportunity to de-stress during the work day!

Honestly, I don't understand why these people don't pick up that they are becoming the architects of their own misery, constructing cages of their own making around themselves - and me! We don't have to play the game and turn everything into a positive. That isn't good for mental health OR morale overall either - it's just, ironically for the health background, putting a sticking plaster over a bigger wound. We need to grow up and actually address the issues we have as adults otherwise experienced and valuable staff are just going to end up burning out - which then increases the workload on everyone else and risks bringing the whole system back to square 1.

#nhs #uk nhs #nhs staff #healthcare #capitalism #work #antiwork #mental health #text post #business speak #2023 #real life #cost of living crisis

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samspenandsword · 9 months

Text

Midnight: Boba Fett/Reader (fem)

Summary: You decide to be a brat. Boba decides to handle you a little differently than normal. Pairing: Boba Fett/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance (reader has hair long enough to grab). Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; unprotected PIV sex (PRACTICE SAFE SEX), fingering, dom/sub dynamics (brat tamer!Boba, brat!reader), implied age gap, Boba's a bit of a meanie, also he's slightly possessive and toxic, mentions of oral sex, hint of anal play, overstimulation, forced orgasms, cum play, degradation kink, praise kink, bit of a pain kink, hickies, icky mushy-gushiness at the very end, language. Word Count: 4.0k

I had to open my big, bratty mouth, you thought.

Or, at least, you would've thought had you actually been capable of any thought beyond the thick fingers currently buried in that greedy little hole you called a pussy.

He'd been tormenting you for what felt like hours now, massaging your walls with warmth and tenderness belying the dirty words coming from his mouth. He'd called this a punishment. A lesson. One he was going to make sure you never forgot. You hadn't believed him, firing back with a bratty little snip that had simply made him smile. A smile of amusement, coupled with a casual, rumbling chuckle. It had made you a little unsure, but not to the point of backing down. You never backed down unless he made you.

And oh, he was good at making you.

He loved wrestling the submission out of you. Bringing forth the needy, whining, begging mess of a woman you became when he got his hands on you. There were nights he didn't need to fight for it. Nights where the two of you simply enjoyed each other's company and the warmth of your relationship.

But some nights, like tonight, got you in a certain type of mood. A demanding, defiant mood that got his blood racing as much as it did yours. A mood that conveyed the need to play, to fight, to be taught and forced to learn your place.

He was happy to remind you.

Happy to remind you why he was the only one you trusted to bring you this sort of pleasure. Usually, it came in the form of edging you until you were literally crying for release. In the form of you bent double over his throne, his cock buried in your pussy and pounding away with little regard for your own pleasure. In the form of pushing your head down on his length until it was pulsing in your throat and spit spilled past your lips and your jaw ached. In the form of leaving bruises that matched the plates of his armor. In the form of wrecking you, ruining you for anyone but him.

And you loved it. Reveled in it.

So when Boba had responded to your brattiness with a simple smile and chuckle, it threw you. You recovered quickly, however. You refused to let your sudden nerves show. Instead, you'd lifted your chin, eyebrows raised into a challenge, and arms crossed under your breasts, pushing them up ever-so-slightly. Just enough to tease him.

It had simply earned you another chuckle, him seeing right through you.

You'd scoffed in response.

"Might as well get myself off, the pace you're going."

Boba had raised his eyebrows, eyes shining with humor.

"Princess, don't give me any ideas."

You'd scoffed again.

"Yeah, well, let me know when you decide. I'll have gotten myself off three times by that time, I'm sure. The time you're taking, you might be ready by midnight, old man."

There it was. His eyes lit up and took on a certain light. A twinkle that indicated Boba had taken something you'd said as a personal challenge. A twinkle that was accompanied by a dangerous cock of his eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

The look set fire to your veins.

"Only three times?"

Your heart and pussy had jumped. It took all you had to not clench your thighs. Instead, you had yawned, making a show of checking the chrono on your bedside table.

Boba had chuckled again.

"You really haven't shown me you deserve to get off tonight, princess. I'm feeling inclined to punish you. But I think this is a good time to reteach you something. Something you've evidently forgotten. So consider this a punishment, and a lesson. And I expect you to tell me what you learned when we're through."

His hand had gone to your thigh, and he'd chuckled more darkly than before at the way you jumped at his touch. Your entire body was lit alight with it, just as always. Just like it always would. No one had ever ignited you with a single, small touch alone the way Boba could. But his hand on your thigh was also your last warning. A chance to call this off before it got started.

Anything beyond this, you knew the safeword.

There was a pause, his hand resting on your thigh, calloused fingers softly stroking the skin there. You'd met his eyes, and gave a third scoff.

Now, here you were. And though you'd originally scoffed at the idea of Boba's so-called "punishment," especially because it hadn't been in the style of his usual punishments, you now found yourself prone on your bed, your fourth orgasm rippling out of you, making your entire body shake and tremble, and you were starting to think you'd maybe bitten off more than you could chew.

Maybe.

The sheets beneath you were soaked, and your skin was tacky with sweat and cum. Your toes were beginning to cramp from how hard they'd curled with this last climax, and it wasn't even on your radar. There was nothing on your radar other than Boba's fingers in your cunt, making you feel both stuffed to the brim, and empty because fuck, it wasn't his cock!

Nothing was like his cock.

"Good job," Boba said, practically whispered. He had you reclined back against his broad, warm chest, letting you tuck your face and sob into his neck each time you came. You felt Boba's breath wash over your skin. and his lips brush against your crown. "There you go, princess."

You gasped, chest heaving as you came down, body trembling still. You whimpered a little as Boba continued to massage your walls, his fingers no longer pumping, but now crooking inside you.

"Just had to provoke me," he continued, breath warm against your cheek. He leaned down to kiss it. "Bratty little princess just wanted some attention. Wanted to get a reaction out of me. Wanted me to fuck you like the greedy little whore you are."

"M'not greedy!" you mustered, raising your head up to scowl petulantly at him.

Boba laughed a little at this, his free hand reaching up to smooth back the hair sweat-slicked to your forehead.

"Oh, really? Then why have you just cum on my fingers four times?"

Your scowl morphed into a pout, the expression promptly ruined as he rubbed the most sensitive spot inside you, a place he had yet to touch you tonight. It was both a mindless and intentional move and you involuntarily clenched and gushed around him. It made his smug grin broaden. He looked younger when he smiled like that.

"Not my — my fault! You have 'em t'me!"

Boba's expression fell into a wicked smirk. "There it is," he rasped. His fingers began to pump again, slowly. "Now, tell me what you learned, princess."

You knew the answer he was looking for. You decided not to give it to him.

"T-to provoke you when I w-want a series of m-mediocre orgasms."

Boba's fingers paused for just a second with genuine shock, then started up again, harsher than before.

"Mmm." The way he looked down at you now was positively dangerous. The set of his brows with concentration coupled with the serious line of his mouth. Boba pressed his forehead to yours as he abruptly shoved a third finger into your cunt, making you squeal and arch. The press of his forehead to yours however was unforgiving, and with it and his dark gaze pinning you in place, you found yourself helpless to do anything but lie there and take it as he shoved his fingers into your cunt at a brutal pace.

"And I'm going to give you another one," Boba said. Your body shivered with overstimulation as much as it did at the dark tone in his voice. It promised something. Promised you weren't ever going to forget this. "You know why, princess?"

You weren't able to answer anymore, your voice reduced to a pathetic whine as his thick fingers jerked harshly in and out of you, rubbing over your g-spot with every furious pass. The sound of his fingers in your cunt was positively obscene, and honestly you couldn't tell where your mewls began and the high-pitched squelching of your pussy ended.

Boba smiled darkly down at you, his little fucked out princess, and chuckled darkly to accompany the grin. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours again, forcing your gaze to his unforgivingly. He could see you trying so hard to maintain eye contact, like you knew he liked. But you could barely keep your eyes open as he shoved his fingers in you and simultaneously shoved you toward another orgasm. You were so cute when you got like this, with tears of overstimulation pricking in your eyes, your hair messy from his hands and your sweat, your body heaving with every touch he gave you, your nipples so pert they were just begging to be bitten, your thighs trembling and toes curled, his hand literally soaked with your juices.

Boba wanted to see you like this every single day. And Maker knew this sight was for him only.

Anyone else came near you, he'd kill them.

"You know why, princess," he repeated. This time, it wasn't phrased as a question, but as a dark little reassurance. Because he knew, and so did you, that he was the only one capable of giving you this sort of pleasure. Of reducing you to this whining, mewling mess. Of wrangling you into submission in the way you loved. In the way he loved to.

It was him. Only him.

And Maker, he knew it.

So did you. And while part of you wanted to hold out longer, continue to shake your head and stomp your feet and pout your bitten lips, you could barely take it anymore. Your mind felt as fucked out as your body. Your pussy lips were swollen around Boba's fingers, and your thighs felt like jelly. The tightening in your gut was near-painful, and the brutal pumping of his fingers was hurtling you towards another edge. You fell off of it faster than you expected. You hadn't even realized how close you were, but you felt your body suddenly seize and arch as Boba unceremoniously tossed you off a fifth cliff.

You were crying, tears falling down your flushed cheeks as your body shook. And right as your pussy began to clamp down like a vice, Boba ripped his fingers from you, leaving your pussy agonizingly empty and fluttering around nothing.

And for someone who'd cum five times, you were singularly frustrated with that.

But your mind could hardly string together two words that weren't "Boba" and "more," let alone the ability to convey that. But nevertheless, Boba seemed to know, cooing down at you as you came down. Stroking your skin soothingly with soaked fingers, trailing your own arousal from your naval to your nipples.

You whined more when he pressed down on one just enough for you to notice.

"You know why, princess." It was said a third time, a smug reassurance this time.

You nodded almost mindlessly, and Boba's hand came up to cradle your throat. There was no pressure in his grip, but it still made your breath hitch. He chuckled again. Five orgasms and his little brat still couldn't get enough.

Maker, you were perfect.

Boba leaned down and kissed your cheek, sweetly.

You were doing so well. And despite your bratty attitude, you were spoiling him rotten, giving him five beautiful climaxes. Trusting him in this way. Letting him give you more.

And he would. He knew you. You would take whatever he gave you.

You always did.

"What have we learned, princess?" Boba rumbled, kissing your ear as his voice made you shiver.

He could see you struggling to string words together, your fucked out little mind scrambling to obey him. It humored him, seeing you try, cause he knew just how much he affected you.

"Use your words," he murmured, half-encouragingly, half-demeaningly.

You didn't even pout you were so focused on obeying him. Boba quietly hummed with amusement, seeing your mouth open. You didn't say anything right away, and the sight of you with your mouth open like that brought forth images of his cock on your tongue.

Boba shook the images away. Later, if you started behaving.

"Boba," you managed to get out, gasping around his name like it was the only word you knew. And indeed, right now, you felt as if his name were just dominating your every thought. Boba always just dominated your mind, your senses, your everything. He was everything.

"Yes, princess?" He wasn't budging, forcing you to continue scrambling for words in your post-orgasmic and overstimulated haze. His lips were curled with amusement as he watched you struggle. You would've scowled petulantly at him if you had the energy for it.

As it were, the only thing you wanted to do at that moment, was ask for more.

So you did.

You reached up, arm hooking over his shoulder and face turning back into his neck. He let you, the hand cupping your throat now stroking along your collar. His fingers were sticky still with your cum.

"Boba, more."

"More?" He chuckled out. "You've cum five times and it's still not enough for you?"

Your breath was still heavy as you came down from said five orgasms. And your entire body was tingling and numb and exhausted, and yet, it wasn't enough. Because —

"Never enough," you mumbled into his skin. "N'ver enough with you, Boba."

Inside him, Boba felt his heart warm at your fucked-out, but achingly honest words. And the sentiment was wholeheartedly returned. But on the outside, all he did was smirk down at you, gently fisting his hand in the hair at your nape and forcing your face from his neck. He looked down at you, stare pinning you in place.

"And why is that, little one?"

Your mind worked to find a way around this. But honestly, you couldn't. With his heavy stare and just-as-heavy hand keeping you in place, eyes locked on his, there was nowhere left to hide. No bratty little quip your mind could conjure. Nothing but Boba.

And well, he was everything.

"Cause... cause no one makes me feel like you, Boba. Makes me cum like you."

And there it was. The lesson Boba had been trying to finger into you for the last... however long it had been. You weren't sure. But as soon as the words had left your mouth, Boba smiled at you, condescendingly proud.

"That's right," he said, smug. You'd be mad about it if you had the wherewithal to be anything but unspeakably fucked out. "No one can fuck you like this, princess. No one. No one can make your legs shake when he eats you. No one else can stuff that bratty little mouth the way I can. No one else has claimed this ass." Boba's free hand suddenly snaked past your puffy and sticky pussy lips, touching firmly to the ringed muscle of your second hole. It made you jerk in his grasp, and he chuckled darkly once more. "No one else can make you cum from simply sucking cock. No one else has fucked this little pussy and molded it to their cock. Just me, princess. You're ruined. Ruined for anyone else. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

As if you could. You knew you were ruined. And Maker, you were so happy about it. Boba was all you wanted. All you would ever want.

And his filthy words, and the knowledge that he wanted you too was almost enough to make you cum again.

"Think you're ready for my cock now, princess," Boba rumbled flippantly. As if you weren't always ready for his cock. He slipped out from beside you, making you wine at the loss of contact. But Boba hushed you amusedly, hand trailing down your side to your thigh. He hooked his hand behind it, spreading you as he kneeled over you.

His cock, girthy and big enough to make you gasp even with prep, looked painfully hard. Boba had been ignoring it as best he could, but even he was reaching his limit. Precum beaded at the tip, and he smeared it onto your clit teasingly. You mewled cutely beneath him.

"Doing so well for me," Boba murmured. His eyes lightened with genuine affection. A light you rarely saw anywhere but during your time together. It made your own haze clear, and you knew he was checking in with you. He said your name. "Ready for me?"

You smiled, wiggling your hips against his cock and hooking your thigh over his hip.

"Ready," you confirmed. Boba smiled, big and bright. It made him look so much younger when he smiled that way. He dipped down, and just as he kissed you, he thrust forward, impaling you on his cock.

Boba swallowed your gasp with a small laugh, kissing you breathless. He wanted a moment, letting your body adjust. But Boba needed a minute, too. As much as he said he'd ruined you for anyone else, you'd ruined him just as thoroughly. He was dangerously close to the edge even without the preceding scene. You always made him lose his composure, made him feel like a young man again. Like he'd blow in his pants just by watching your hips sway as you walked away.

Boba grasped those hips, yanking you down the rest of the way onto his cock when he felt you relax. It made you squeal and giggle, and he chuckled into the skin of your collar before taking it between his teeth.

You gasped and clenched around him.

"Boba," you moaned.

"Patience, princess."

You were trying, honest, but you didn't exactly have much patience when it came to him.

But if you hadn't forced yourself to still, Boba's hands would. But you tried to relax your hips and core, letting yourself sink a little further into the mattress and sheets.

As soon as you did, Boba began to move, punching the breath right out of you with every thrust. The mattress was the only thing keeping you grounded as Boba, in the way only he could, fucked you within an inch of your life.

Boba's lips curled and teeth clenched with the effort of keeping himself from exploding right then and there. Your expression was going to be the end of him if your cunt wasn't. With those hooded, glazed eyes and half-open mouth, flushed cheeks, just-had-mind-blowing-sex hair, arched neck leading all the way down to a pair of glorious, heaving tits. There was a bead of sweat rolling down in the valley between them, and Boba couldn't help but lean over and lick it up.

You scrabbled for purchase of his broad shoulders as Boba leaned down and began to bite and suck on your nipples. Boba was a self-declared ass and thighs man, but Maker when he paid attention to your tits he could be just as thorough and appreciative. You couldn't help but arch up into him, pressing your breasts further into his mouth. He chuckled around your nipple before switching to the other. And all the while, he never stopped thrusting, cock practically molding your pussy to its shape.

After a few more thrusts, you could barely string a thought together anymore, and all that came out of you were little moans and whines as Boba fucked you. Your thigh fell from his hip as your body was wracked with overstimulated bliss, your body hardly able to keep up with all it had endured. Your hands gripped at his back, nails digging in and making Boba grunt with pleasure. He loved when you left your mark on him.

Almost as much as he loved leaving his mark on you.

Boba's mouth shifted to your collar, where his teeth and lips left red marks that would bloom purple by morning. You gasped with each new one. You grew closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling to keep up.

"B-Boba..." you breathed as your core tightened, painfully.

"Come on, princess. Give me one more."

You weren't sure you could, tears pricking in your eyes as your raw cunt fluttered and pulled.

Boba suddenly ripped out of you and before you realized it, you were flipped onto your front and Boba was back inside you, pumping so hard and fast you could feel him in your throat.

"Go on," he said, voice tight with his own restraint. You managed to clench around him, making him hiss. "One more. Give me one more."

Your cries of pleasure, pain, and overstimulation were surely bouncing off the walls, but all you could hear was Boba, and the way his cock forced your juices out to make room for itself. It was positively obscene.

And only helped bring you closer and closer.

Boba leaned forward, chest touching your back, the new angle devastating your cunt. You cried out, it turning into a strangled gasp as his hand came around once more to cup your throat.

"Cum."

You did.

Your orgasm ripped through you so hard your vision went white. You would register your sore throat later, sore from screaming out with pleasure. Your entire body seized with your climax, shaking and pussy fluttering so hard it was practically vibrating around Boba's cock, squeezing and squeezing down until Boba could barely move anymore. And with a yell, he came too.

You didn't realize you'd nearly passed out until you registered Boba saying your name, a soft, warm, damp towel being pressed to your skin.

"You did so well, princess." Boba dropped a kiss to your temple before climbing back into bed with you. You rolled into him, soaking up the warmth of him and appreciating the warmth of his release inside you. It began to glob out, smearing and combining with your own release, all over your thighs.

You pressed them together as you cuddled into him, reaching up to stroke your hand down Boba's neck.

"Tell me how you're feeling," Boba requested.

"Tired," came your automatic answer. Your voice was heavy and slightly hoarse with it. "Boneless. Fucked out."

The last two worked a quiet laugh from Boba.

"But good," you finished. You smiled up at him. "So good."

Boba smiled, achingly soft, and kissed you. "Ready for a bath?"

"Yes, please. And you better carry me, mister, I'm not going to be able to walk for days."

He smirked down at you. "You asked for it."

You giggled.

Boba helped you sit up. His eyes flicked over to the nightstand and his smirk widened.

"What?" you asked.

"It's midnight."

You slowly looked at the chrono, the red numbers indeed reading exactly midnight. And your earlier words rang in your mind.

Yeah, well, let me know when you decide. I'll have gotten myself off three times by that time, I'm sure. The time you're taking, you might be ready by midnight, old man.

"Three times by midnight, I believe you said." Boba carefully scooped you up, smiling way too smugly for comfort. "Pathetic."

You scowled playfully at him, cheeks flushing hot.

Seven. He'd made you cum seven fucking times.

"Don't let this go to your head, old man." You settled into his chest. "Your helmet won't fit."

He pinched you lightly as he set you down on the edge of the tub. You giggled as he began to run the bath, and his stern look might've been effective had his eyes not been twinkling.

"Spoiled little brat," he said, with nothing but fondness.

You preened and gave him a little tongue-in-teeth smile.

"You love it."

Boba laughed, and again, you couldn't help but admire his smile. How it instantly made him look younger. Not as burdened. Happier.

Boba helped ease you into the warm water before climbing in behind you. As he leaned you back on his chest, he whispered in your ear.

"I love you."

You sighed, happily.

"I love you, too, Boba."

And it was only because you loved him so much that you didn't punch him the next morning when you found that you were, indeed, having trouble walking.

Taglist and some known Boba hoes (just lmk if you want me to remove you): @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @thefact0rygirl @daimyosprincess @wild-karrde @ulchabhangorm @baba-fett @starstofillmydream @theroguesully @redheadgirl @nekotaetae @liadamerondjarin @urmomsmattress @ttzamara @cdblake1565 @blueink-bluesoul @marierg @banthasworld @sunshinesdaydream @kimiheartblade

Join my taglist here or just let me know!

#star wars #the book of boba fett #tbobf #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #also this piece is vvvv inspired by Ex Libris everyone go read it right now #fem reader #fem!reader #f!reader #reader pairing #reader fic #nsft

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ahoyimlosingmymind · 1 month

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Teenage Dream by Olivia Rodrigo but make it Fitz Vacker

"When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? When am I gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys?" <- Being treated like a trophy and a commodity (a line Biana could probably relate to as well)When am I gonna stop being great for my age and just start being good? <- This line is the definition of gifted kid burnout. When you're young, it's easy to receive praise. You are so ahead of the curve, you are so good... until you aren't. One day those praises disappear, and the encouragement can't be earned. You set the bar too high when you were little, and now you can't reach the height it's expected to be at now.

"Got your whole life ahead of you, you're only 19" <- Fitz is closest to being 19 out of the Keeper Crew apart from Wylie "But I fear that they already got all the best parts of me And I'm sorry that I couldn't always be your teenage dream" <- He's no longer palatable and easy to love. He's no longer the ideal that is expected by himself and by others. He's given all the good he has. and now he's tired, and he wants the curtain to close and the applause to fade, because his face hurts from smiling and the lights are too bright and the platform he's on keeps rising and he's afraid of heights. (I gave you all I have. Please stop asking for more. There's nothing left. I'm sorry- you still love me, right?)

"And when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?" <- it's easy to be forgiven when you're small and innocent. "When will everyone have every reason to call all my bluffs?" <- When will they realize it has never been real? When will they forget the good in me, and claim I've always been this way? "And when are all my excuses of learning my lessons gonna start to feel sad? Will I spend all the rest of my years wishin' I could go back?" <- He's prone to getting angry when he's sad and afraid. How many more times will they accept his apologies? How many more times until he is completely abandoned and wishing he was 11 years old again?

"They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't? They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't?" <- self explanatory <3

#kotlc #Fitz vacker #song lyrics #lyric analysis #olivia rodrigo #teenage dream

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acourtofidiots · 1 year

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a long poly!dickkori thot for you.

Kori having you on her lap, your legs hooked over hers so she can keep your legs open. She’s got her strap buried inside your pussy; fucking up into you while she plays with your clit and tits.

Dick’s kneeling in front of you, hands restrained behind his back as he watches Kori fuck you. Dick’s eyes are level with your pussy, watching Kori’s strap fill you as her fingers rub your clit. Making you clench around the silicone cock.

Dick’s whimpering. Desperate to eat you out while Kori fucks you. But he’s only allowed to watch because he was bratty. And bratty boys get punished. As times goes on, Kori pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, and Dick begins to beg. His cock aching and leaking between his legs. Hips canting up to get any sort of relief but finding nothing.

“Have you learned your lesson Dickie?” Kori asks, looking down at Dick. He sobs out an yes followed by apologies as tears stain his cheeks. “Do you think you can cum one more time baby?” Kori asked you, one of her hands petting your hair. “Yes Kori.” “Good girl. Now Dickie, come closer, just a little more, there you go, good boy.” Kori cooed as Dick nestled himself between your legs.

“Dickie, if you can make y/n cum with only your mouth I’ll let you cum.” Dick moaned as Kori laced her fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky strands.

“Please. I’ll be a good boy, I can make her cum. Please let me make her cum.” Dick begged.

“Show me that you can be a good boy.” Kori said and Dick was licking at your cunt seconds later. Kori’s hand pushing Dick’s head into your pussy and guiding him. As Dick’s tongue lapped at your slick you started clenching on the silicone cock inside you.

Feeling your orgasm approaching quickly from Dick’s tongue. “Keep going baby, you’re being so good. Such a good boy, making y/n feel so good. You’re almost there Dickie.” Kori cooed. Dick was suckling on your swollen clit and you were cumming on his face seconds later. Kori pushed Dick’s face away from your pussy, noting how your juices glistened on his face.

“Good boy Dickie, did such a good job. Took your punishment so well.” Kori spoke as she ran her hand through Dick’s hair. “I think you’ve earned your reward.”

***

Kori had Dick fuck her while you watched. She was moaning praises as Dick pounded into her. Desperate to make Kori cum so she’d let him cum.

Dick’s hips were pounding into Kori’s, pushing pretty moans past her lips as she praised him. Dick was desperate to make Kori cum. Kori’s thighs began to shake as she moaned praise after praise. She was getting closer to the edge. “So close, you gonna make me cum, gonna let me milk your cock baby?” Kori cooed and Dick picked up the pace.

Moments later and Kori was cumming around Dick’s cock, making him whine as her walls milked him. “You can cum baby, been such a good boy for me, let go for me.” Dick was collapsing into Kori’s arms as he came. Her pussy milking him for all his worth.

“Good boy Dickie. Took your punishment so well.” Kori whispers while petting his hair and gesturing for you to get close. You curl up into Kori’s side, tangling a hand through Dick’s hair and smiling as he whimpered. “Good boy Dickie, our good boy.” You cooed, kissing his forehead. Kori pressed a kiss to your head as well, murmuring a “good girl,” to you as she held you and Dick in her arms.

AYOOOO THIS IS SO HOT?????

I imagine Kory keeping a pretty tight (metaphorical but also could be a literal one) leash on the two of you. If you stopped riding her cause you were tired/overstimulated, she would spank your clit, causing you to jerk in her arms and continuing bouncing away. If Dick managed to get a lick of your pretty pussy hugging around the strap-on, Kory would absolutely deny him longer, maybe even bounce on his cock once she was finished with you and not letting him cum inside her, one of his favorite things to do. He absolutely loves filling the two of you up and not being able to would be absolute torture for him.

I love it

#poly!dickkory #poly!dickkory x reader #poly!dickkory smut #dick grayson smut #koriand’r #koriand'r smut #koriand’r x reader #dick grayson x reader #julia.writes #ask julia #anonymous #anon

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illfoandillfie · 9 months

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alt adkoe au: y/n answers a question correctly in class and roger accidentally replies w “good girl”

ohhhh my godddd okay this is an incredible idea. i read it as i was walking into work this morning and it made me very giggly khfksfkskfs

like it's just a normal class, roger's trying to keep everyone's attention by throwing out questions at them.

he's not even directing them at specific people, just asking the room at large and waiting to see if anyone answers, keeping a list in the back of his mind of who actually engages with the lesson.

and you're a good student, you like the class and you like having the chance to try to answer things.

maybe it's a little bit because you're sleeping with your professor. but only a little bit.

He had threatened to stop the lessons if your actual work started slipping, so you're determined not to let that happen, and also you just want to make sure he knows you're not just there because he's hot.

but also you're a bit of a nerd and just genuinely enjoy learning about science stuff and has fun answering questions even if you get corrected sometimes.

so you don't even think twice answering this question, you just do it, like 95% sure you knows the answer

and he's really proud of you for knowing the answer! it was a tough one! and usually he'd give whoever answered a 'well done Ms blah' or a 'that's correct Mr blah' but it's the end of the day, his mind is wandering a little bit and for a moment he forgets where he is.

the problem, he tells mikey later when he's explaining the incident, is he's too good a dom. he's always made an effort to praise you during the tutoring lessons. because you was new to bdsm and because you misunderstood aspects of submission to start, he's made sure to give you a lot of positive reinforcement whenever you demonstrated an understanding of something or whenever you showed enthusiasm for something or whenever you tried something out of your comfort zone.

so he doesn't even hesitate before saying "good girl ms y/l/n" when you gives a correct and thorough answer.

he barely even noticed he'd done it at first, turning to the board to write something relevant up there.

he's halfway through a word when he hears the first snicker. it makes him pause because it's a masters science class. it's full of more mature students who've already earned a degree, students who aren't as inclined to goof off as some of his other classes are. I mean, he knows how to have fun with his class. He cracks jokes, he tries to keep things entertaining and engaging, but he's not used to hearing people laugh behind their hands as if they're teenagers passing notes.

he glances behind him at the noise and he notices two things.

Firstly, theres a whole lot of smirking happening, a few giggles, a few people looking at each other.

Secondly, you're staring at him, resolutely ignoring everyone, but you seem embarrassed.

And that's when his brain catches up and he realises what he'd actually said and how inappropriate it was. and he's just really thankful he'd had enough brain left to not use your first name.

For a moment he doesn't know what to do? Should he address it? Apologise to you in front of the class, turn it into a joke about how he's obviously ready for the weekend?

the notion that such an excuse would probably just lead people to speculating about what kind of sexual shenanigans he gets up to on weekends stops him though

and ultimately he decides to pretend it didn't happen. He can apologise to you in private later, and if he just continues on with the lesson it'll force everyone to pay attention and stop giggling.

So he continues writing on the board and then explains why your answer was a good one and then asks a follow up question, this time directing it at a student he thinks is looking at you and whispering to his mate.

You were relieved he just moved on with the lesson.

Later on, when you text Daisy about it, you say the problem is that roger has conditioned you to be turned on by praise. You've always liked earning praise of course, especially from teachers. But all the times roger called you a good girl during your tutoring has made it a whole other thing.

And because of that, as soon as he'd called you a good girl in front of everyone, you got wet.

(Daisy replied with a lot of laughing emojis and not much useful advice)

So, it wasn't even so much being called a good girl in front of your classmates that embarrassed you. it wasn't great and the snickering didn't help you feel less embarrassed but if it had been any other teacher who'd called you a good girl you could have laughed it off much easier (with maybe a little embarrassment for them).

no the reason you were embarrassed was that you were turned on and all you could think about was roger bending you over his desk.

and you shouldnt be thinking about that in public.

and you definitely shouldn't be thinking about roleplaying a teacher/student scene with him.

and you definitely shouldn't be this wet sitting in a fucking uni lecture.

so you were very glad roger hadn't said anything about it.

roger spent the rest of the lesson deciding how best to apologise to you. he decided that calling you to see him after class would only make things worse and since there really was something happening between you, he couldn't risk anyone thinking there was in case it all got brought out into the open.

he did briefly consider whether he should take Tina out somewhere students would definitely spot him just so he'd have an alibi of sorts, and maybe any speculation or gossip about the incident would be more focused on his kinkiness than on your involvement.

But, he settled on mentioning it and apologising during the next tutoring lesson, and otherwise pretending it wasn't a thing. If he heard some rumours or got approached by any staff members then he'd figure out a way to deal with it.

you decided to go by his office before you left that evening. You didn't want any lingering embarrassment hanging over you during your next lesson.

So when you knocked on his door, Roger is very surprised. This was not his plan.

but he rolled with it, inviting you in and shutting the door (hoping no one would think anything of it if they saw)

and he apologised before you could start talking, saying he never meant to put you in such an uncomfortable position and he woud be much more mindful in future and he hopes you're okay and that no one said anything to you.

and you're like oh no thats fine, i get it was just a slip up, and yes we do need to be careful but no one said anything to you and while you did hear people speculating about what else he might call someone a good girl for, no one had suggested there really might be something happening. one girl did call you lucky though and implied that if you'd accidentally called her a good girl she'd be wanking to it for the next month.

roger is relieved and everything about the situation suddenly becomes a bit more amusing and less worrying.

but then you say there is something you want to bring up but maybe his office isnt the best place

and he's like well if you don't tell me i'm going to spend the time until our next session very nervous and concerned about you.

so you're like, its nothing serious i just.....it was kind of hot, sir.

he gulps a little and has to take a breath before he says, "was it now?"

you nod and drop your voice to more of a whisper as you say, "im kinda wet actually"

he groans to himself, "as much as i would love to verify that myself, i don't think this is the place, so i'll take your word for it. what about it inspired such a reaction?"

you shrug, "i don't know exactly. i like when you praise me i guess. and maybe it got me thinking....i mean, if might be too weird but you said teacher student stuff was good for roleplaying.

Roger is speechless at that and has to sit down again before he falls.

you just watch him a bit nervously, waiting for him to say something but encouraged by his reaction

eventually he's like "i did say that"

and you can see hes thinking so you keep quiet, just waiting

eventually he sighs and says, "we really can't do anything here. there are people around who could come in at any moment, not to mention security cameras. so as interesting as your suggestion is, its too risky. And also, a little bit weird. i mean, as hot as the roleplay is, i really am your professor and that makes it just a little uncomfortable, don't you think?"

you nodded, more embarrassed to have been turned down than you were in class.

he's like, i mean i'm up for it, just not right this second.

which does make you feel a little bit better, a little less rejected.

he says so how about this. instead of going home tonight, you pay your teacher a visit because you're so worried about passing the class and you want to see if theres some extra credit work available.

his voice is low and his tone is all suggestion and you instantly perk up and agree to it.

and roger smiles and says, my last class for the day is in half an hour, i will leave as soon as it's done. Of course, if this suddenly stops being hot, we don't have to do this roleplay. It might just have been in the moment that it was arousing or we might find actually playing it out is more awkward than hot.

you stand up and say, thank you sir, i'll see you later.

he says, wait a second ms y/l/n, some homework until then - I want you to think about just how much of a good girl you can be. Have some ideas ready.

your mind was already racing with possibilities so you nodded and then left, trying not to look too excited.

#a different kind of education #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #this didnt go where i was expecting #and it ended up longer than i intended oops #kfsjfksjfksjfksd #but thats just my brand #perhaps one day i will write the smut #but i hope you like this!

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rosethornewrites · 18 days

Text

Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 16

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective Lan WangJi, Protective Lán Qǐrén, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent Yú Zǐyuān, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Good Sibling Jiāng Yànlí, BAMF Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jealous Su She | Su Minshan, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Protection Squad

Summary: A hiccup and a visit.

Notes: See end.

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

AO3 link

The weeks that followed passed in peace, and Wei Ying blossomed in the absence of fear, working with excitement on the commissioned talismans for Jin-furen, using the Jiang siblings’ blood to test his ideas. They were able to resume their quiet afternoons in his studio while he worked on the portrait for Wen-zongzhu, often all four of them, each working independently together. He was relaxed more than he had been since the incident, more lively, and Wangji was glad to see it.

Several juniors approached Wei Ying for help with their forms, impressed by his performance against Su She, and they found in him a willing teacher, one who could diagnose the exact issues interfering with their mastery. Often he recommended exercises that would correct underlying problems like balance or footwork, diagnosing bad habits that had not interfered with more basic forms, but would prevent them from progressing. Always, he made sure to praise the juniors for what they were doing well, and they responded like flowers opening for sunshine.

Wangji had an inkling that he would eventually be teaching formal classes, once he had more fully recovered, having caught Shufu watching the informal lessons more than once. Wei Ying had clearly earned his status of head disciple in Yunmeng Jiang, and he flourished in a teaching role like he was born for it.

Some of those students had given him early gifts for his birthday, always in the form of consumables, which he shared with them but which were helping him continue to gain weight back, and Wangji made note of them as allies to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying often took tea with Lan Tayi, discussing talisman and array ideas with the master as fluently as one himself, and he had delighted in learning and even modifying the talismans that had been used against the conspirators, arguing they could be used to stymie yao during night hunts with a little tweaking. For his part, Lan Tayi seemed happy to distract him with such conversations, consistently bringing extra snacks to pawn off on Wei Ying, who would eat whatever was put on a plate in front of him when thus engaged. Wei Ying was often so excited about the ideas that came from tea that he would tinker with talismans for several hours those afternoons, with resulting in amazingly innovative results.

In truth Wangji understood little of their conversations, but he was happy to see Wei Ying enjoying himself, and that alone was reason to attend. As an added benefit, Jiang Wanyin preferred not to attend these teas and was happy for Lan Tayi to act as chaperone, and Lan Tayi did not frown over them holding hands as though convinced it would harm Wei Ying’s image. After the fight with Su She and the missive sent to all sects, with just enough information to show his beloved’s skill and strength while remaining modest in adherence to the rules, it was increasingly unlikely his status and value would be harmed by small gestures of affection, and Lan Tayi would never gossip.

As expected, multiple sect leaders found excuses to visit the Cloud Recesses following the missive, all looking for information, and they were immediately warned by disciples each time, and were able to stay in private areas of the grounds, whether the Jiang guesthouse, Wei Ying’s studio, the jingshi, or the bunny field. They had as of yet not been disturbed, despite several visiting disciples separating from their groups only to be found where they shouldn’t have been. This stopped when Xiongzhang enlisted several inner disciples and gave them permission to “gossip” with certain agreed-upon details that would assuage the curious visitors, though it frustrated him with its necessity, that people could not leave Wei Ying any privacy.

As his birthday approached, Wei Ying received a package from Nie Huaisang, which included expensive art supplies and a stack of books that made him blush deeply when he opened one, and which he placed in a qiankun pouch.

“For later, after we’re wed,” he told Wangji with a shy smile. “They’re, ah… educational.”

Wangji had known Nie Huaisang for enough years to know he’d sent cutsleeve spring books for their enjoyment, and he couldn’t be upset with it, especially since Wei Ying seemed pleased with the gift. They were not technically against the rules of the Cloud Recesses, so long as they were for educational purposes, and he had no doubt they would be very instructive. He was very willing to find loopholes to rules for Wei Ying’s happiness.

Shufu received a missive from Wen-zongzhu that Wen Qionglin was well enough to travel and they would come to the Cloud Recesses to celebrate Wei

Ying’s birthday in person, asking that it be a surprise for him, and Wangji hoped it would further lift his spirits. The information was easy enough to keep secret, particularly with Wei Ying distracted with his many projects, often shifting between several each day.

Their days had the same basic structure, varying based on Wei Ying’s needs and whims. Wei Ying always started his day with breakfast together at the Jiang guest house, often something Jiang Yanli prepped the night before, and usually involved soup: often pear soup, meant to keep the late fall chill at bay. She rose with him, styled his hair, and ate with them to act as chaperone, though he was certain she slept a bit more after they left. On occasion Jiang Wanyin joined them, but more often he ate later.

Xiongzhang assigned chaperones from a surprisingly long list of volunteers on a sort of schedule, and so they were accompanied by a disciple when they were together at all times. The first chaperone came to the Jiang guest cottage to escort them after breakfast. Their minders were polite and kind, not intruding too much on their time together, something Wangji appreciated.

While Wei Ying was in dizi lessons, Wangji had tea with his uncle and brother and returned for him, and when Wangji was teaching sword forms, both Wei Ying and Jiang Wanyin often chose to accompany him. Some days they went to Caiyi, even. But there were still days where he could tell Wei Ying was less able to handle being around people, and he would prefer to stay in the guest cottage and work on talisman ideas, read, and rest all day, and Wangji and the Jiang siblings coaxed him to do just that.

The day before his birthday seemed to be one such day, and Wei Ying shrugged off their coaxing.

“It’s the shift in weather,” he argued, stubborn. “I just need to move around a bit.”

The chill often bothered Wei Ying, and he was likely to spend much more time indoors when winter fell. To Wangji, the winters in the Cloud Recesses were something of a reminder of the death of his mother, but they were also beautiful and tranquil, and he hoped Wei Ying would enjoy that aspect despite the cold.

“If you’re sure,” Jiang Yanli said, relenting when he nodded.

So they started their day as they normally would, a leisurely breakfast and a chaperoned stroll to his flute lesson, and Wei Ying seemed to push through the malaise without difficulty, chattering on about a new stasis talisman idea he wanted to explore.

Wangji was having tea with Shufu and Xiongzhang, the latter focused on wedding ideas to be discussed with Wei Ying later, when their assigned chaperone rushed in and bowed hastily, and he immediately knew something must be wrong, even before the disciple told them that Lan Mingkai had taken Wei Ying to the infirmary.

Shufu nodded at him, gesturing toward the door immediately, giving him permission he was hardly waiting for. Wangji remembered to murmur a thank you to the disciple as he rushed out, and the disciple, a junior a few years younger than him, nodded and kept talking, giving more details—Wei Ying was unconscious, suddenly passed out—loudly enough for him to hear them until he turned a corner.

Worry consumed him, possibilities popping up despite his best effort not to conjecture—illness, poison, some long-term effect of Yu Zixuan’s attempt on his life, all the worst case scenarios fighting for purchase in his mind as he clutched Bichen hard enough to mark his skin and hurried to the infirmary. They had finally rooted out the saboteurs, but still Wei Ying could find no peace.

He was met by the Jiang siblings, who were also on their way there after being fetched by a servant, their expressions pinched with concern.

The healing staff immediately brought them back to where Wei Ying was being examined, his form still, his robes open, something Wangji hesitated at, but only his chest was bared. A curse mark, like a patch of charred and blackened skin over his heart, immediately confirmed his worse suspicions—that this was an attack—and clearly incensed the Jiang siblings. Jiang Yanli rushed to his side, while Jiang Wanyin loomed protectively.

“The curse is too weak to defeat his core,” the healer assured them, “but it will take time to burn through it.”

Jiang Yanli asked why he had passed out, and the healer assured him it was a reaction to the onset of the curse, though the state of his body as he worked to recover had also played a role. It wasn’t simply recovery from Yu Ziyuan’s abuse, but also his slow wasting afterward, overtaxed already only to be cursed.

“The curse is focused on his body?” Wangji asked, wondering if that detail would narrow down the possibilities.

Shufu and Xiongzhang arrived as he asked the question, and Shufu immediately went to Wei Ying’s side to examine the curse mark, the healer deferring to him.

“That seems likely, but it’s hard to know what the curse is given that he won’t be presenting symptoms,” the healer responded.

“Wen-zongzhu is something of an expert on curses,” Shufu commented as he looked over the curse mark, “so he may be able to identify it.”

“They should arrive later today, and he may even be able to break it,” Xiongzhang said.

Until then nothing could be done but to make Wei Ying comfortable, Wangji knew, hating that he could do nothing. Wei Ying would recover, but he had once again been attacked in Lan care, with little way of determining the perpetrator.

“What about the talisman A-Xian helped create?” Jiang Yanli asked as she fretted over her brother, smoothing his hair. “Could it not be used on the curse to find the caster?”

Shufu shook his head, but looked thoughtful.

“Not as it is. Curses can be cast from some distance, and the talisman has a limit, though Lan Tayi may be able to adapt it. I will speak with him.”

Nothing could be done for Wei Ying immediately, save making him comfortable while his jindan cleansed the resentful energy of the curse, and so he was transferred to a private room in the infirmary, where he looked far too small and still for Wangji’s liking. The healer gave him permission to play Cleansing for him, and he left his side only to fetch his guqin so he could do so, leaving the Jiang siblings to watch over him.

By the time he returned, Jiang Yanli had taken Wei Ying’s hair down from its crown, tying the forehead ribbon around his wrist. She’d had Jiang Wanyin turn him on his side while she braided his hair, likely of the opinion that he would be more comfortable, and he returned as she tied it off with his red ribbon and settled him back beneath the blankets.

Wangji sat nearby to play, letting himself focus on the music to the extent that the world would fall away for a bit, and started with WangXian in the hopes that Wei Ying would hear it and know he was safe, before transitioning into Cleansing. The song would help with the process of removing the resentment, aiding his jindan in burning through the curse, and Wangji hoped it would shorten the process.

Aside from a break when Xiongzhang insisted he eat, Wangji focused on the music, aware that Jiang Yanli left several times to work on the evening meal she hoped Wei Ying would be awake to enjoy, losing himself otherwise until the late afternoon when Wen-zongzhu arrived. With him were Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin, the latter of whom was being pushed in a wheeled chair, which Wen Ruohan had commissioned for his nephew’s comfort.

As Shufu and Xiongzhang led them in, Wen Ruohan nodded a greeting to Lan Wangji, placing a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising to bow, before he immediately attended Wei Ying with Wen Qing.

“It will take another two days to filter out the curse,” Wen Qing said after she examined the curse mark.

The idea that Wei Ying could be so still for days, after which it would be ill fortune to celebrate his birthday rankled Wangji, an important milestone in his recovery unmarked, lost because of the interference of another.

“It is no trouble to transfer such a weak curse to myself, and I can fully rebound to the caster to permanently prevent another attempt,” Wen Ruohan offered, his attention on Wen Qionglin, who looked particularly upset by Wei Ying’s condition.

The offer was extremely generous, especially if it was made without expectation of repayment, and would resolve a problem in what would likely be a very public way. Wangji could see Shufu and Xiongzhang wondering what he might want in return.

“I only wish that Wei-gongzi consider swearing brotherhood with my niece and nephew, if he wishes, if he insists upon this being a debt,” the sect leader assured.

Wangji was astonished, seeing that not as a way to repay a debt, but as a way to more formally protect Wei Ying—the Lan sect would protect him as a disciple and Wangji’s betrothed, and the bond of siblinghood with Jiang Yanli and Jiang Wanyin also offered some protection as well as an implied rebuke of Yu Ziyuan, but he had no doubt being the sworn siblings of the beloved niece and nephew of one of the most powerful men in the jianghu was an even more powerful protection, particularly if Wen Ruohan’s rebound killed the caster, as he had implied it would.

Wei Ying, no doubt, would agree happily, already close to Wen Ning and Wen Qing, the latter having saved his life at Lotus Pier, but he would also see the weight of such a brotherhood and perhaps its offer of safety as a relief, and Wangji would confess to being relieved by it as well.

The Jiang siblings exchanged looks with each other and then with the Wen siblings. Whatever Jiang Yanli saw led her to nod, and she patted Jiang Wanyin’s arm and took over, smoothing her hanfu as she bowed to the Wens, her brother following her lead.

“I know A-Xian will agree. Thank you for helping my didi, Wen-zongzhu.”

Wangji bowed with Shufu and Xiongzhang to offer thanks as well.

Wen Qing supervised her uncle, making him sit while he transferred the curse to himself, and Wangji knew the moment it was done by the way Wei Ying let out a soft sigh. He hadn’t noticed the tension in his future husband’s body as it fought the curse, but it was made clear when his body seemed to unclench and he sank deeper into the bedding.

He still didn’t stir, but Wen Qing assured them that was expected, the curse having strained his system.

“Hundred Holes,” Wen Ruohan murmured, checking the curse mark that was now on his own chest. “His cultivation is not as weak as the caster imagined.”

That particular curse was meant to cause constant pain and to disfigure the victim, as though Wei Ying hadn’t already suffered enough, wasn’t scarred enough.

The Wen sect leader pulled his robes aside, baring his chest, and cut a finger with a small dao-style jade dagger engraved with the sun on its handle and guard, then used his blood to paint an array around the curse mark. Wangji could interpret only a bit of it—that it was meant to rebound—but it was much more intricate, and with blood, much more powerful. Wei Ying would have been fascinated, he knew, and he wondered if Wen-zongzhu would be a good correspondent for him regarding talismans and arrays.

When he was finished, Wen Ruohan inspected his work, then nodded in satisfaction, clearly pleased with the lines of his work.

“When I activate this array, the entirety of the curse will rebound; the caster will face the full force of the curse, and will not survive.”

He stated this casually, as though giving Shufu and Xiongzhang time to protest, knowing how the Lan abhorred killing. Neither did, and Wangji felt a cold sense of relief in their willingness to allow a more permanent solution.

If the body was discovered it would be investigated by a local sect because of the manner of death, and word would ultimately reach Gusu, identifying the culprit. Hopefully such a discovery would prevent a resentful ghost from rising and continuing to target Wei Ying.

Privately, he hoped the caster was someone known to them already, perhaps even Yu-furen, though he doubted Wei Ying would want the guilt he would feel associated with her death with the Jiang siblings.

Truthfully, casting curses from afar didn’t align with Yu-furen’s disposition or weapon of choice, meaning others sought to harm his future husband, and that was perhaps worse for Wei Ying’s mental wellbeing.

Wen Ruohan demonstrated no pageantry, simply activating the array, which seemed to absorb into the curse mark. The spiritual energy in the room seemed to go taut, then snapped out and away from the Cloud Recesses, taking the curse mark with it.

Xiongzhang pointed in that direction, and Wen-zongzhu nodded.

“I will assemble a team of seniors to search in that direction,” Shufu said grimly.

Wangji knew his uncle felt particularly protective of Wei Ying, as he had confessed that he was ashamed of his behavior toward him during the lectures, his dismissal of his bright intellect and undying curiosity. If the culprit’s spirit was resentful, the seniors would handle it before it became a problem.

Wen Qing briefly checked her uncle’s meridians, then shooed him, Shufu, and Xiongzhang to the door, adamant that Wei Ying needed no stress upon waking until she could check him for any lingering effects of the curse, uncaring of rank. She then had Wen Qionglin wheeled to another private room so she could examine him and make sure the travel had not had ill effect, leaving them to settle and wait for Wei Ying to wake.

Jiang Yanli reluctantly left to continue cooking, though she was pleased that Wei Ying would likely be awake to enjoy it, and Jiang Wanyin commented after she left that likely she would cook even more dishes with the intent that the Wen siblings would dine with them.

“If Wei Wuxian is up to it,” he added after a moment, watching his brother’s still face.

There was no telling how Wei Ying would take this most recent attempt to attack him, but Wangji suspected he would meet it with quiet acceptance and try to forget about it as he tried to forget all ills perpetuated against him with varying success. He drew out his guqin again, focused now on playing WangXian, hoping to ensure he woke surrounded by love, that it would comfort him.

Shortly, Wei Ying woke with a start, no warning that he was stirring, babbling about curses and resentful energy and scrabbling at his robes. Jiang Wanyin stopped him, holding both his wrists so he couldn’t hurt himself, sitting in front of him so Wei Ying could see him.

“Deep breaths, A-Xian. You’re safe.”

Jiang Wanyin breathed with him to help him calm, and Wangji started WangXian again, having stopped with a discordant twang when he woke so suddenly. The music seemed to help calm him, his breathing returning to normal.

Wen Qing returned to check the flow of his qi through his dantian, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Uncle transferred the curse and rebounded it,” she said brusquely. “Your body and cultivation are undamaged. The caster will no longer be a threat.”

He blinked up at her, surprised to see her as they had kept the visit secret, though this certainly wasn’t the revelation Wangji had expected.

“I felt it take root, and then just nothing,” Wei Ying murmured hoarsely, prompting Wangji to abandon his guqin and pour a cup of water from an ewer on the bedside table.

“Hundred Holes, far too weak a curse to take hold on someone with as powerful a jindan as yours,” she told him, refilling the cup when it was empty. “Uncle hopes you will swear brotherhood with A-Ning and I during our visit.”

Wei Ying was quiet for a moment, lost in thought, but then he jolted, looking at her hopefully.

“Wen Ning came with you?”

At her nod, he smiled widely, distracted from his ordeal at least temporarily.

“Swearing brotherhood?” he asked, momentarily taken aback at the offer before he smiled again. “Ah, Qing-jie, I knew you liked me! Of course I’ll be your sworn brother. Ningning’s too.”

Wangji suspected that Wei Ying’s focus on the ramifications of the brotherhood was simply masking his reaction to being cursed, and when he glanced at Jiang Wanyin he could see that same suspicion written into his expression.

“You’re ridiculous,” Wen Qing huffed, and something in her demeanor told Wangji she, too, had that worry.

They would have to pay closer attention in the coming days for signs that Wei Ying would benefit from a visit to the mind healers, though Wangji thought he might mention the possibility to Wen Qing in private. Wei Ying’s focus on the good in the situation could be problematic if he did not reach out when he needed support, if he tried to hide his hurts or shut down.

Jiang Yanli’s return served as another distraction, conversation about Wei Ying’s health diverted by her joy at seeing him awake, having been summoned by a disciple sent by Shufu, as well as Wei Ying’s insistence that he was only three years old in the play Wangji had become accustomed to.

When Wen Qionglin was brought into the room, the group naturally expanded, bringing good cheer and laughter to Wei Ying in a way that soothed his worries a bit.

Though Wangji knew the mood was a distraction, it was something his zhiji needed now, and he was more than happy to sit beside him as he basked in the presence of family and soon to be family. All else could wait.

——————

This Wen Ruohan dotes on his niece and nephew, and the combination of Wen Qing’s concern as Wei Wuxian’s doctor and Wen Ning fretting over his best friend’s health and well-being spurred him to act here. His sickly nephew traveled a long way to celebrate Wei Wuxian’s birthday with him, and he’ll be damned if that falls through!

Lan Wangji is concerned in the end that Wei Wuxian might bottle up his feelings about being cursed, causing a setback in his recovery. While Wei Wuxian has learned mindfulness of his own needs, his bad habit of setting them aside for others, ingrained in him by his upbringing, sometimes sabotages him.

Continuing my medical issues, but I just started a promising medication that has so far had amazing results. I’m feeling pretty hopeful.

I spent April Fool’s Day sitting in the ER with a gallstone—took 8 hours to finally get pain relief, and I couldn’t even play games on my cell phone through the pain. Several firsts for me: IV, blown IV, CAT scan, CAT scan with contrast (this blew the IV), and morphine. So I get to be more mindful of what I eat. No more chili cheese nachos, alas.

Thank you all for sticking with me through the slow writing. Please let me know what stood out to you in this chapter!

Happy birthday, Wen Ning!

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