#perhaps if was one to be able to move around more and go outside like other people do all the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strang3lov3 · 2 months

Text

Enjoy the Silence

You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)

That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass

Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.

A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵

It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it.

You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times. It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.

God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished.

You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though.

Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door.

“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”

“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”

Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.

Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”

“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”

Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”

“Something like that,” you said.

“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh.

“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began.

Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–”

“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”

Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both.

Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that.

Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right?

Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one.

You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul.

You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.

Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing.

You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.

You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it.

You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.

Joel notices.

You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets.

You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.

He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act.

Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy.

“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.

“Joel!”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”

“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down.

He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”

The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.

“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact.

“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”

“Yes.”

“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort.

You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”

You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.

“Sure you do.”

You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug.

“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”

Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?

“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”

Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip.

“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”

Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little.

When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.

Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow.

This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing.

Fuck. The punishment.

Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses

Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.

He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him.

“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out.

“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips.

He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”

Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you.

You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp.

Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”

“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.

“Only twice?”

“Tonight.”

“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?”

You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don’t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”

“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.”

“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”

Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind. He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”

“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.

He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“So good,” you choke out.

You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.

“Better,” your answer is honest.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.”

He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.

You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.

His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”

“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”

“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.”

“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.

“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”

You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you.

You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you.

You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself.

He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”

“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”

Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that. “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”

If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters

2K notes · View notes

newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months

Text

Yandere with a unknown identity

Breaking and entering

M!Yandere X F!reader Warning: non-con, fingering F! Receiving. Summary: You had a terrible day and end up going to bed early when a masked man breaks in and decides to make it all better.

Part 2 aaand Another part

You had such a bad day today. Nothing seemed to go your way. All day you kept your emotions in. When you got back home all you did was throw off anything uncomfortable and then crawl into bed to just cry it out.

While crying your heart out you don't notice the bedroom window slowly creeping open and a dark shadow climbing in. He is just about to walk further into your apartment when a sniffle stops him in his tracks.

Perhaps it's the feeling of being watched, but something tells you to turn around. When you do you are met with a tall man dressed entirely in black. Not even a speck of skin is showing. His face is covered by a balaclava and the room is dark, only the lights from outside shine in but you can tell he is looking at you.

In an instant he throws himself on top of you, pinning you down. You try to scream but he covers your mouth, muffling any sounds you make. Your panic is met with soft hushes which by no means calms you. He is way stronger than you. He holds both your hands down with one hand while he covers your mouth with the other. He has one leg on either side of you, straddling you, forcing you lower body in place while not putting all of his weight on you.

You struggle against his grip but to no avail. Tears stream down your face. The mix between panic, crying and a hand covering your mouth makes you gasp for air.

"Shhh, shhh. It's fine, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just breathe, breathe okay?" He hushes you softly. Because of the lack of air you force yourself to calm down. Taking slow breaths through your nose.

"I'm going to move my hand okay? Don't scream." He says firmly and when you do he chuckles, pleased by your obedience.

"Good girl." He whispers as he starts to wipe away your tears.

All the while you look up into his only exposed feature. His eyes. Even with only the moonlight shining in through your window his blue eyes are piercing through you.

"Don't hurt me.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I'm not going to, I told you that before." He stops for a moment before he speaks again. "Why were you crying before?”

He wipes away a few more tears that escape you as you avoid his gaze.

"It's okay, you can tell me." When you don't answer he continues.

"Did something happen today? I could tell you were upset when I got here."

When you still don't answer he moves off your body and with one arm pulls you after him making you sit up beside him. His sudden motion and the fact you don't know what he possibly could want from you makes you panic again.

"I don't have much money. I… you can have my jewelry."

"I don't want any of that, I want to know why you're crying." He cuts you off. You take a moment to calm down before you answer him.

"I just had a bad day, that's all." It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest. But then he nods, straightening his back.

"That's alright, it's over now. If that's any help." Then he squints his eyes and you can only guess that he is smiling under his mask. Then he looks down, catching your shirt riding up exposing skin. He takes a deep breath before he continues with a low voice.

"Maybe I can make it a little better." Without really being able to do anything he moves you to sit in his lap with your back pressed against his chest. You let out a small gasp and squirm in his grip as you feel something hard pressing up against your ass. He grabs one of your legs to hold you in place and to spread your legs. You try to pry his hand off you but his grip on you is too firm.

He places a leather gloved hand on your clothed cunt, groping and rubbing. The friction makes your breath hitch. He moves his finger up and down your underwear and much to your dismay a sting of pleasure hits you everytime he brushes over your clit. He rests his head on your shoulder whispering in your ear.

"You're so beautiful, I'll make all your problems go away, I promise."

He pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger inside you while he circulates your clit with his thumb. He curves his finger looking for that perfect spot.

"Please stop…"

"Shhhh… you will feel so good soon."

He adds another digit inside you, that together with the gloves extra thickness he stretches you out. A whine escapes you, which prones him to work faster. You can feel yourself getting closer with each move he makes. Your breathing grows heavier and so does the knot in the lower half of your stomach. His fingers hit a certain spot inside you and you jolt as if electrocuted. A moan leaves your lips as he continues to abuse that spot.

You grip his arm, scratching him through his shirt as your orgasm riples through you. Throwing your head back on his shoulder as you bite your lip to try and suppress any sounds, but a muffled moan slips you anyways. He works you through your high and stops when you relax leaning back on him.

"Didn't that feel good huh?" He nudges your cheek with his nose.

"How about we go for another one?" You shake your head but he doesn't care. His hands start up again.

His hand lets go of your leg and worms his way under your shirt. With no bra on he goes right to squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.

"Oh, you're so wet. I wish I could be inside you. Feel your pussy clench around my dick instead of my fingers."

Another orgasm ripple through you. But this time he doesn't stop.

"You're doing so good. Just a few more for me."

The room is filled by the wet sounds from your pussy and the moans that you have stopped caring about. All your mind can focus on is his fingers.

You couldn't keep count over how many orgasms he made you go through until he decided you finally had enough.

You feel exhausted. Leaning back panting on his broad frame. Sore from the over stimulation.

"How are you feeling?" He holds you so impossibly close to him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist. He is gently rubbing your cheek with his index finger. The leather feels cold against your skin.

You look up at him through hooded eyes and for a moment you two just look at each other. Then you move your hand to pull off his hood but he grabs your wrist.

"Not today, hun. Another time I will show you." He gently lifts you up and moves you off his lap.

"I'll be back in a sec okay? Don't move." He tells you as he stands up. Before he leaves the room he grabs your phone. You can hear him walking around in the kitchen.

When he gets back he hands you a glass of juice and a towel. You cover your lower half with the towel as you watch him pick out new clothes for you. You can't not notice the giant wet stain that is left on his pants. He hands you the clothes and goes to get his bag by the window and set it back down on your bed.

"Do you want me to help you shower?”

“No, I want you to leave.” You say firmly. He takes a deep breath before nodding.

“Okay, I'll leave. Just before I go." He opens up his bag and reaches down. Fear overwhelms you like a cold shower. He must have noticed you tensing up because he says.

“It's okay, I'm just going to give you money. Take the day off tomorrow and the day after that too. This will be plenty to not disrupt your economy. And hey, treat yourself, eat out or buy something nice. I know how hard working you are, you deserve it." He hands you the money and then heads for the front door.

But before he leaves he turns back to you once more. “And remember to lock, will you? Been too many times where I have got here and you've forgotten to lock for the night. The window too. You can never be too careful.” And with a wave he is gone, left is just a stack of money in your lap.

#yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere noncon #yandere oc #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

5K notes · View notes

torustars · 1 year

Text

YOU AVOID HIS KISS

⊹ suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

⊹ tooth-rooting fluff, a lot of kissing

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ you don’t know what took over geto while he kissed the finger that was secured by a silver band. you grinned and your free hand reached to play with the ends of his hair that looked almost like the sky outside your apartment. “really missed me that much huh?” you playfully tease him, only for him to nuzzle his nose against your neck, leaving soft kisses against your skin. “keen observation, darling. what gave it away?” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone. you played along with him, “the clinginess was a given.” he chuckled lightly and nodded, droopy eyes looking straight at you. “i guess so, why don’t you give me one of your kisses? i’m sure that’ll give me the strength i long for,” he leaned in, attempting to give you the hint he wants to kiss you. you pursed your lips to hide the smile that was appearing and kissed his forehead. his eyebrows furrowed and he was already sulking. geto pointed at his lips that were curving into a frown. “don’t be mean now, gimme kiss..” he mumbled and tried once more. you laughed softly, giving into his request and pressing your lips against his. the kiss was slow and sloppy, but enough to satisfy him. you pulled away and caressed his cheek. “you’re such a big baby, aren’t you?” you asked, to which he responded with “your big baby.”

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ gojo was sitting on the couch, manspreading with a book in hand. you glanced over at him while you were organizing the room. “since when did the gojo satoru read?” you asked, reaching to grab the plant on the top shelf. his diamond eyes looked up at you with a chuckle, watching you struggle before walking towards you. you felt a hand on your waist, looking up at you watched him grab the plant you were aiming for. “just around the same time you weren’t able to grab this plant,” he joked. you rolled your eyes and lightly elbowed his stomach. “i could’ve gotten that myself,” you retorted and he pulled you towards the couch. he sat down and your knee was between his thighs, hand still securely holding your waist. “perhaps, but don’t you need your strong, hunk of a boyfriend to give you a helping hand?” you raise your eyebrows in amusement, a laugh escaping your lips. “and didn’t my strong, hunk of a boyfriend scream like a girl when he saw a spider in the bathroom?” you watched his mouth gape in shock, “you better give me a kiss for that low blow.” you agreed and leaned in to kiss him before cocking your head to the side and kissing the side of his head. he huffed and pulled you closer to him, bodies pressed against each other. “guess i have to show you how to kiss, properly.”

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ nanami held your hand while walking along the beach, enjoying the sound of the sea hitting shore every ten seconds. you both stopped at a group of rocks, taking the opportunity to rest your legs. you let out a soft hum and look at your boyfriend, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “do you like the view, ken?” his eyes look at you for a few moments before glancing at the sea. “the view of you? indeed i do,” he said and you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. the moment felt special, a time where it was just you and him against the world. moments after, he took both of your hands and made you look at him. his eyes were searching for yours while he formulated his words. “hypothetically, if i were to ask you to move in with me, would you say yes?” he asked and you stared at him with surprise, your hands clutched his and you pursed your lips. “i.. i mean..” you hesitated for a moment, before nodding your head. “yes, yes i would kento,” his lips curved into a smile while he reached to caress your cheek. “well then, would you like to move in with me?” he asked, moving to kiss you before you responded. you press your finger against his lip, and nodded. “i’d love to,” you said before you kiss him. “you’re going to regret stopping my kiss,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling you closer.

9K notes · View notes

tojisun · 6 months

Note

biker!simon is slowly rotting my brain and i’m all here for it !! the way you write him makes me want to giggle and kick my feet 😵‍💫🫶🏼

so i just wanted to throw this idea out there…there was a tiktok video i saw (i couldn’t find it 😔) but it’s this couple on a bike and the backpack reaches forward and like…palms the the guy through his jeans and he holds her hand there for a sec and 👀 i just thought that fit for biker!simon

anyways !! love you and your writing

AHHHHH THATS SO HOT WHAT THE HELLLL??? no yea reader def does that <33 also? luv how u call her backpack!!! its such a cute nickname omgg!!! and thank u so so much my starlight <33 i love you too!

biker!simon mlist // suggestive - minors dni!! hinted exhibitionism bc simon n reader are nastily in luv!

you are simon’s good girl so, naturally, you usually don’t do this. but in your defence, it is dark outside, the roads empty except for sprinkles of other night riders that you two briefly share the road with.

it’s yet another late drive, you and simon having just left the meet up – easily one of the rowdiest you’ve ever been to.

when you told simon how heedy you’re feeling from the buzzing energy, he laughed and told you that it’s even more packed this time because of the upcoming rally. you oohed and aahed, and simon fondly rolled his eyes at your obvious cluelessness before steering you past strangers to introduce you to his other friends – alejandro, rudy, and that one big guy who insists on being called konig.

“nice to meet you katzchen,” he said, taking your arm up to bump it on the mouth of his helmet – something he never took off for the whole day.

“nice to meet you too! although i didn’t quite catch that- what’s it that you said last?”

konig’s eyes crinkled, his smile hidden by his helmet, before he let go of your hand and then disappeared into the masses.

what the fuck?

you turned to simon only to see him glaring at where konig used to stand.

“si?”

“it’s nothin’, sweet girl. wanna come meet up with mactavish?”

simon slows down to a stop in front of a red light, one of his hands leaving his handlebar to reach back to your thigh. it is a routine at this point – simon’s hand caressing your leg, gently massaging, his thumb pressing into tensed muscle, before squeezing once, twice, three times, before pulling away to hold his handlebar again once the light turns green.

it is a routine, but it still makes your heart jump to your throat, feeling the way his palm leaves burning trails at each glide. your arms tighten around his waist and you are sure that simon felt the way your breath hitched, but he continues on anyway – teasing touches gaining purpose, sliding up-down, before gripping whatever flesh he can. you bump your helmet to his back, a muffled whine sitting in the base of your throat, feeling your lungs wobble at his touch.

then, he hikes his hand up higher – this is new, something simon has never done before. has never dared to try, especially on the open road.

he tickles his touch up, kneading your muscle until his hand bumps into the swell of your ass. he gives it a squeeze, just a quick pressure, then he rips his hand off now that the light turns green. he revs his bike as a warning – just enough that you tighten your arms around him again – before speeding away, acting like he didn’t just send heat coursing through your veins.

you feel his stomach contract, muscles moving underneath his shirt, and-

oh.

simon’s laughing.

the haze in you shifts, snapping into something playful. teasing.

you wait until his silent chuckles dissipate, pretending to still be overtaken by his slyness and making him think that you are still unable to move on. well, perhaps there is truth to your lie because yes you are unable to move on, but you hope to hell he wouldn’t be able to as well.

he takes a right turn, his bike dipping close to the asphalt, the sound of his engine purring beautifully, and you think: this is it.

time to reward your big boy.

your touches start off slow. gradual.

you loosen your arms around his waist, easing your gloved hands off from where they laid tangled together to plant the flat of your palms on simon’s stomach. you feel his abdomen jump, not anticipating the shift in your hold, and you bite on your bottom lip to smother a giggle.

simon tilts his helmeted head, confused, but you ignore him, busy mapping the hard muscles of his abdomen with kitten-light swipes. one of your hands rises up to caress his chest, swiping a hand between his pecs before falling back to his belly. the other – and this one makes you breathless too – falls to his lap, rubbing at his thigh before swiping it towards his pelvis only to swipe it back out as though you weren’t close to cupping him through his jeans.

your chest vibrates with something guttural and it takes you a heartbeat to realize you were not the one emitting the sound. it was coming from simon, a sound so deep it reverberates between where the two of you are pressed.

the chuckles leave your lips this time around, unable to hold it in anymore. unconsciously, your hand grazes the half-formed tent underneath his jeans, and simon does that rumbling sound again that just heightens your elation.

you are still reeling over your mini revenge that you don’t notice simon taking a new turn, his bike roaring as it speeds through narrow roads and into a dimly-lit and certainly abandoned parking lot.

what-

“si?” you ask, confusion rising when simon turns his engine off before tapping your leg to signal you to get off.

you do, clamouring up, eyes wide as you watch simon follow. he pulls his helmet off and straps it on his bike before twisting his body to face you.

his eyes crinkle, glinting with something dangerous, and you know he’s grinning underneath his balaclava. desire shoots through your spine, realizing where he’s going with this.

simon laughs, seeing the way you straightened up, alert even when something carnal thrums within your veins.

“that’s right, princess,” he rumbles, his voice thick with want, as he unbuckles his belt. “y’r gonna finish what y’started, aren’t you?”

you nod, already pulling your helmet off your head and wobbling towards him on weak knees. simon takes your helmet from you, his hands brushing against yours, and just before you can kneel down in front of him, simon coos, “knew you are my good girl.”

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #suns #luvr-bunnyy #ask #AHHHHH HOPE U LIKE THIS ONE MY LUV

1K notes · View notes

sundaycentric · 4 months

Text

⌢ ⌢ yandere choso x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, sfw, headcanons, stalking, choso is weird idk, dependency?, mentions of babytrapping, mahito jumps u btw, mahito warning, general obsessive and possessive behavior, possibly ooc?? idk i wrote this for my own pleasure ... 1.3k words

— Choso has only cared about 3 people in his life. His late brothers, and his alive half-one. Not even his "colleagues" that he has to work closely with on their schemes. Outside of his family, nobody else mattered. At least, that's how it was. Choso doesn't consider you family, so why is it that he seems to care so much about you? It angers him. Has he lost loyalty to his brothers?

Choso tended to avoid you at first, paying you no mind like the rest that surrounded him. The most attention he'd allow himself to give you is subtle glances or the occasional hand when you needed help. Nothing more, as you were nothing to him. Except you were.

Choso realized his feelings, despite not being able to tell exactly what they were, pretty quickly. The weird beating of his heart when you were around, how his hands got shaky, and how he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck as he spoke to you, nervous that you wouldn't approve of him somehow. He became a bit more conscious around you. He wanted you to like him.

Choso thought these weird, firstly platonic feelings towards you were because you were family. Perhaps Itadori wasn't his only half-sibling. However, thinking about it like that made Choso feel awfully weird. You weren't his family, as it made his stomach churn to think of you as such. So, what were you then?

— Choso didn't care what happened to the people of Shibuya during that incident. When planning it out with the other curses, he felt no sympathy or worry for the people who would be present. Yet, upon hearing that you could possibly be in Shibuya on the day on the attack, Choso almost completely forgot about everything else.

Choso had separated from the others to look for Itadori, to try and get his revenge. While walking around Shibuya, he passed many of the trapped people within the veil. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers which Choso paid no attention to. Their conversations did not matter to him, who was focused on something else already.

Choso then heard your name fall from someone's lips. The voice sounded familiar. He turned around to verify, and it was one of your friends. Choso had taken a liking to 'watching' you as you went about your day, so it was no trouble recognizing this person you frequently saw and spoke with. Suddenly, he started paying a bit more attention to the conversation.

Choso listened as the person spoke. He knew he was wasting his time he could be using to search for Itadori, but he couldn't bring himself to move. From what he heard, you might be in Shibuya right now, specifically in a location near the veil. Without a second thought, Choso set off in another direction.

— Choso felt pure rage like this only once before in his life: when he found out that his brothers were dead. He had made it to the edge of the veil to see Mahito toying with you. It made Choso sick to even see you crying for a split second. Without thinking, he stepped in and used his curse technique to force Mahito to step back.

Choso looked furious. His eyes furrowed, brows pulled down in a sharp V. His fists shakily clenched onto your clothes, pulling you up into his grasp. All the while, his shrunken pupils glared at the curse in front of him. A few drops of blood fell onto you from the mark on his nose. Choso made no effort to clean it.

Choso frowned even deeper as Mahito laughed, questioning his behavior. He gritted his teeth together, the grinding sound rough. He wasted no time in telling Mahito off, claiming that you were his and that Mahito needed to go somewhere else. Mahito only looked confused since Choso seemed so occupied with you, what about hunting Itadori down?

Choso breathed a deep sigh of relief as Mahito left, deciding that this wasn't worth his time. After all, he needed to find his natural enemy before Jogo did. Choso watched as Mahito skipped away before looking back at you. How shaken you were, some stray tears still dripping down your cheeks. You looked so fragile, like a doll. Choso, after seeing you almost get into serious trouble, decided then that you were too weak to be out on your own. He'd protect you now, and he wouldn't fail loosing you as well.

— Choso lovingly ran his hands through your hair, the fingers playing with your locks. He had you resting in his lap, consoling you and making sure to wipe every tear that formed at your waterline. He might not know exactly what he feels, but he knows that protecting you is just as important as protecting his brothers.

Choso wouldn't allow you out of his grasp, let alone his sight. However, you are a bit confused because this man is a stranger, but he did save your life. You could tell he was strong, so it was best to stay with him. He tried to be soothing and gentle as well, but it was a bit difficult for him: Choso knew humans were more fragile than curses, and he didn't want to get too happy to finally be in contact with you.

Choso noticed that you began to calm down as he petted your hair, but you were still shaken. He couldn't blame you: Mahito was terrifyingly sadistic. However, he was glad he was able to intervene before things spiraled. He gently pushed your head against his chest, cradling you as he would do to a young child.

Choso began to speak, trying to calm your nerves even more. He apologized for Mahito, reassured you were safe, and even made some subtle comments about some things you liked. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that he shouldn't know those things since you had bigger issues to worry about. Like your friend, who Choso overhead and you knew was in Shibuya.

— Choso blankly stared at you when you inquired about your friend's whereabouts. He shook his head before shushing you. Your friend was in the main building, there was little likelihood of their survival. But why did that matter to you? They weren't your family. Choso's chest felt weird. You shouldn't care about your late friend. You are here with Choso right now. Why are you worrying about another?

Choso felt jealous. Light jealousy, but still jealousy. That's when it finally clicked for him. No, you weren't family. But you were his. When he said you were his to Mahito, he hadn't even realized what he said. However, now he finally realized what he said, and what it meant. He loved you.

Love was such a strange concept. He stared down at you, his hand playing with your hair without thinking. He was in love, with you. His grip on you got slightly more tight as his thoughts wandered. He had saved your life. Did you love him back for that?

If you didn't, that'd be okay. Choso prefers if you love him back, but you'd learn to either way. He needed you. You and his family were what he loved. But what if you and him had a family too? He knew his mind was going too far too soon, but he couldn't shake the idea of having kids with you. Maybe that'd be another way to get you to stay. That sounded like a good idea.

— You gazed up to Choso, who had gone unresponsive while thinking. You frowned slightly, a bit worried. Gently, you tapped him, and he seemed to wake back up. He stared at you silently for a few more moments before fully hugging you. His mouth was close to your ear, hot breath tickling you, "You'll be perfect."

981 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Oh, oh. I got a nasty one.

Malleus trying to breed his female s/o, even when someone is knocking on the door, looking for them.

Nasty? I think you mean delicious.

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, creampie, almost getting caught, biting, mating bites, marking, possessive sex, overstimulation, marathon sex, draconic mating cycle, feral Malleus

A/N: Man I knew that as soon as I opened requests again I'd get Malleus thirst. I'm not complaining, just noticing what ya'll like.

Wanting to help Malleus through his mating cycle seemed like the right thing to do. As his girlfriend you wanted to help him out, you knew how much he was struggling to maintain his sanity and not tear the room apart in his horny, surprised rage. Naively you thought you'd be able to keep up with him.

The first day was fine. The second left you feeling sore. The third day you were barely able to walk. And now, on the fourth you could barely even move.

Your body shakes beneath Malleus's hold, head swimming and dizzy as you try to wiggle under his hands keeping a tight grip on your hips. "Mal please. Can't take any more! P-please, too much."

"No, I know you can. You're doing wonderful darling." He growls against your ear, his balls slapping loudly against you, his thighs hitting yours with every rough thrust, "I know you're almost there. I am too. Just a little more and I'll soothe this ache inside you. I'll breed you well." The words, no the promise, send a jolt straight to his cock. You feel the cum spilling from him in small spurts already as his pace quickens, making your ass sting with each impact.

You can't get away even if you wanted to, your cunt aches from days of fucking and being stuffed but the truth is you wouldn't trade this pleasure for anything in the world. You know deep down that Malleus loves you more then anyone, he'll always love you, always cherish you, take care of you. You find yourself leaning forward, almost melting against the bed, ready to accept another load of his hot cum.

The series of knocks on the door takes you off the edge, "Fuck." You try to move but find your hips pressed into the bed, a growl of warning echoing around the room.

"Stay still. Have to breed you." He keeps going despite the next series of knocks, or maybe in spite of them, "What's wrong? Don't wish to let whoever is outside hear you? Do you want them to come in perhaps? I don't care who it is, I don't care what they want, if they're in here or out there. I. Am. Not. Stopping." He kissed a path up your back, and licked around the many bite marks on your neck, "You better not stop either. You wanna squeeze around my cock, I know you do. You want to come all over my cock."

"Malleus!" You end up coming right as he does, his name babbled loudly like a drunken prayer on your lips, his hips pistoning in and out before his cock freezes inside of you, he wants to feel everything, he needs to feel you squeeze every drop of cum out of his balls.

Another loving bite is added to your shoulder as he lays his body over yours, his fangs penetrating the already marked skin, "Too much for you, darling?" You can't find the strength to respond, only able to make your hips twitch against his and let your head hit the pillows, tired and way too spent. "Rest up. I'll go see who dared to bother us." He kissed your cheek as he slowly pulled out, taking pride in seeing your pretty cunt overflowing with his cum. There was no point in cleaning you up, you still had three days to go.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus hcs #malleus smut #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia smut

4K notes · View notes

tbgkaru-woh · 3 months

Text

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

#dialogue prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts

441 notes · View notes

eupheme · 1 year

Text

— renegade

joel miller x f!reader

rated E - 3k words

tags - light angst, established situationship, nightmares, mutual yearning, lots of pretending, soft!dom Joel, restraints, face fucking, fingering, PiV

a/n - inspired by ‘renegade’ by big red machine

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

You sleep better here. Anything is better than a night spent alone in the room that isn’t yours, and never will be. Nightmares find you there - seeking out your sorrow, draining you dry.

When it becomes too much, as it often does, you go to him. Going out into the night, slipping like a ghost into the shadows.

Finding the familiar way to inside - finally able to breathe again when the window slides shut with a click. When you’re curled in his bed, the blankets pulled over you like a shield.

It will get you shot, one day. Sneaking in like this. With anyone else you might have been already - but not with Joel.

You think he doesn’t really mind your nightly visits. The way he keeps the crates stacked just so, beneath the fire escape.

How he only locks one side of the window after you leave - the other just out of the reach of your knife, when you wiggle the latch open from the outside.

It smells like him - these faded, patterned sheets. Ones he’d never pick out for himself, in another life.

Before.

Ones that you can’t imagine him not having, because this is the only way you know him.

The familiarity soothes you, even though he’s not here. Exhaustion starting to weigh you down, starting at the tips of your limbs and curling around you like vines.

Eyelids growing heavy, listening to the rain that’s just begun to sprinkle down. Drowning out the stomping rows of boots outside - a white noise that lulls you to sleep.

This time - you don’t dream.

———

He almost missed that you’re here. The sound of your breathing, the little hitches of breath while you sleep, engulfed by the downpour.

Only seeing the lump in the blankets as he sheds his rain-stained coat, the canvas soaked-though at the shoulders.

A mark deepening between his brows as he glances at your form - the jacket and pants thrown over the broken radiator. Moving to the window, flipping the latch on the left side back into place.

You’re slippery. Squeezing through cracks. Worming your way into his room and under the hardened armor of his skin.

For anyone else, this layer you’ve peeled back and crawled beneath would be no more than surface-level. An acquaintance, perhaps.

But with Joel, it’s so much more. It makes his skin itch, as if it was flayed back - exposed and raw.

Uncomfortable. But not unwelcome.

He hadn’t seen you today - the silent check he does. Just needing a glance of your hair, your shape in the crowd. It’s enough, a second in the long minutes and hours that make up his day.

It’s a small relief, a fresh breath of air he didn’t know he needed.

Silently, he strips down. Clothes folded on a chair with chipped paint - someone old DIY gone wrong. Looking like The End had already hit, years before it did.

A hand running through his hair, pushing the damp strands back, padding over to the edge of the bed.

“Come on, honey.” His words hold a softness that doesn’t exist when the sun is shining - a moment he knows you won’t remember.

Gently easing you over, so he can fit himself in behind you. Curling into your warmth, the blankets tucked back around you both.

The frown easing from his face when you murmur - face burrowing into the pillow, fingers brushing against the arm that wraps around your ribs. The hand that flattens against your stomach.

His name, no more than sleepy murmur, as you get comfortable again.

“Joel.”

He wonders if you’re dreaming about him.

He wonders if he’ll dream about you.

———

He’s solid, strong back and broad-shouldered. Shifting in the night to face away from you, as he often did. For comfort or another attempt to keep others out - a literal barrier - you’ll never know. Your chest presses against his spine, an arm curling around his waist.

Your eyes crack open. It’s still dark out, the sky just starting to streak with grey. You hadn’t slept long but you had slept soundly - the best you’ve had in days.

The tip of your nose brushes against the cotton of his shirt. Shifting so you can move higher, so it can skim against the base of his neck, instead. Press into the soft hair that curls - smelling like rain and sweat and him.

Your fingers trace the cotton at his hip, skim across the elastic waistline of his boxers. It had been over two weeks since you had last caved - had last come here.

It had been a good run. But the nightmares had come back - flashes of your past that you can’t bear to relive.

He shields you from them. Waking easily at the first sound of your muttering - his hand curling around your shoulder, low voice pulling you back out.

You know he understands. How he talks in his sleep as well, how you do the same for him. An unspoken agreement.

He shifts, against you. Only the slightest change in his breathing - he can wake from a dead sleep in an instant.

A hand, warm and calloused, finding yours as it brushes the strip of bare skin where his shirt has ridden up.

Dragging your hand down, to where he strains against the fabric. The pressure of his fingers curling yours around his length as he groans.

His hand leaves yours to tug down the waistband, removing the barrier between your palm and his hot, bare skin. Pushing them down his thighs, kicking them off to twist in the blankets.

The tip of your thumb brushes over the head, smearing precum over the tip. Air hisses between clenched teeth as he inhales, as you press yourself closer, crushing yourself against him as your arm pumps.

“Is this why you’re here?” Joel asks you, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your fist. His voice rough with sleep, the sound making you squirm behind him.

It was easy to pretend it was.

That he didn’t go to bed hard, like this - the only thing keeping him from waking you up was knowing how much you needed the sleep.

That it was just physical. Fucking the nightmares from your head - that it could be anyone else burying themselves inside you, and the outcome would be the same.

It’s a lie, though. You both know it.

He’s the only one you go to. You’re the only one he’s let in.

You hum your response, trying to peek over the bulk of his shoulder. To watch him fucking your hand, skin sliding against skin.

Lips press against his neck again and he shudders. Moving your hand from him, twisting in your grip until you’re trapped beneath the spread of thick thighs.

The heavy jut of his flushed cock swaying, as he adjusts himself on top of you. Leaving a damp patch smeared across your breast, as he takes himself in his hand again.

He hasn’t meant to end up quite like this.

Had just wanted you warm and soft beneath him. Moving up too high on your waist on accident - still hazy with sleep - ending up with your arms pinned against your sides.

Making to move, until he sees the way you’re focused on his hand, your lips parting. Showing off a pink flash of tongue. Fingers gripping on to his ankles - the only part of him you can reach - nails digging in.

“You want this?” He asks, stroking himself - his fist fitting in the valley between your breasts. His other hand cupping his sack, squeezing.

Leaving you to watch the flex of his forearm, the flushed tip appearing between thumb and forefinger. Nodding, your tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

“Ask me for it.” It’s not a request, his head tilting as your hands tighten around him.

As he angles his cock down, shifting until it’s hovering, just out of reach. Your chin lifts, mouth opening as your eyes fix on his.

Joel’s jaw grits. You can see the heave of his chest, the hand cupping himself dropping to the curve of your breast. Thumb rolling over the tight bud - the sensation dulled by your thin top, but it’s him and your body still sings.

You crack first.

“Wanna taste you.” Your eyes are still on him, can see the way he swallows hard, how he shifts over you.

“Fuck, baby.” He growls. The hand around his cock drops to curl around the back of your neck, twisting in your hair to angle you.

All while he moves forward, pressing himself against the flat of your tongue. Where you’re open and waiting for the weight of his cock, to taste the salt of his skin and the drop that still clings to the tip.

Wet and aching for him already - a dull thudding between your thighs, where they press and rub together.

You groan, as he inches inside. Lips wrapping around and sucking, causing him to hiss out a breath, his hips hitching.

Nudging him a little too deep, as you cough - tears springing to your eyes. He shifts back with soothing words, the hand on your breast moving to cup your jaw - thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” There’s a pinch to his brow, your head shaking minutely to tell him it’s fine. A second, as he thinks, “Tap my leg if it’s too much. You got that?”

He waits for you to listen, giving an experimental tap. Before he tries again - hips rocking, a slow and shallow press into your mouth.

You take him, relaxing into the cup of his hand. Eyes wandering across his stomach, chest - whatever you can see when he draws back. Closing, so you can listen to the groans that reverberate in his chest. Letting him use you, to fuck your mouth - trusting him, putting yourself in his hands.

A hand that flexes and twists in your hair. His thumb of the other sweeping against your cheekbone, the hollow under your eye - brushing away the tear that glistens against your skin.

So tender it makes your chest ache. Fingers curling against his leg, squeezing. He’s pulling himself from you, then - out of the warmth of your mouth, as you swallow.

Trying to protest that it wasn’t the signal, your lips glossy and shining. He’s shifting back, nudging your thighs wide to fit between them. Lowering himself down, his cock wet and thick and digging into your hip.

“I know.” He murmurs. Before his mouth presses to yours, the kiss sloppy. Tongue brushing where his cock had been, as he tugs at the waistband of your underwear.

Dragging them down to join his, fingers dipping between your thighs. Groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are from sucking him off, the tips pressing and circling against your clit.

You whine his name, the stubble on his cheek scraping against your skin. Breath hot in your ear as his weight pins you down. Thumb smearing your slick across your clit, so he can fit a finger inside.

You’re tight, molten hot. Gripping him already as you arch into him, as he slips in another. Curling them until they drag against a spot that makes you moan - strung tight beneath him.

He need to calm down, make you come, before he fucks you. A pressure swiftly building in his belly when he watched you, the trust in the way you took him.

The sound of his fingers is loud, the wet suck as he fits in a third. Stretching you out, each of your breaths harsh, your nails biting into his skin.

Already so needy, already near the edge. Each of your breaths coming shorter as his hips press against yours. Letting your fingers drift to feel the hard curve of his cock, hearing his grunt in your ear when you tug on him.

“Don’t worry about me.” He groans, voice rough before his lips press against the column of your neck.

As if you ever weren’t.

As if you didn’t always want him.

His words were unneeded, because you’re losing concentration quickly. Only focused on the tension in your belly - the pressure like a finger squeezing down the trigger, about to fire.

He’s relentless, fingers pounding, the wet flick of his thumb. Feeling your racing pulse beneath his lips, the sharp gasp of each breath, your muscles flexing.

Tightening around him until that tension snaps. Pleasure thrumming through you as you buck into his hand, your mind going blissfully blank and fuzzy - your moan strung out and pitched high.

Missing his words, feeling the brush of his other hand over your legs, smoothing over your hips. You can just make out the timbre, leaving you to imagine the rest.

Christ, just like that.

Good fucking girl.

Fingers slow as he pushes himself up, only removing them to tug at your shirt - pulling his own from his shoulders.

Folding himself between your limp, spread thighs, before hooking his elbows under your knees. Opening you up, where you’re soaked and the fluttering is still ebbing.

The twist of his wrist as he lines himself up - smearing his tip across your slit. The briefest tease, indulgence, before he slides in. Sinking inside of your tight heat in a long, fluid motion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” You breathe, brow pinched as he fills a chasm you didn’t realize you had.

His breath comes out ragged.

It’s not in the script. The words you both know. No, this had come from the soft pulp of your heart, a late night confession.

He doesn’t know how to take it. Mouth crushing against yours as he sinks deeper, swallowing your words to keep them safe.

Trying not to think about how his own answer had sprung to his lips, unbidden. It’s dangerous. To think like that, to have any sort of claim on anything, now.

It’s easier to pretend you just miss his cock.

That you just came here to forget.

That’s something he can do - drawing his hips back, snapping back in. Watching the way your tits bounce, everything softened and hazy with the thin grey light that creeps in.

Shifting, lifting a leg to brace on his shoulder, pushing him deeper as you gasp. The other pressing against his ribs, curling around his waist.

Freeing up his arms so he can taste your release on his fingertips. Licking you from him before he presses the calloused pads against your own mouth.

You take him, tongue curling around spit-slicked fingers. Tasting yourself on them, your sighs muffled when he presses down on your tongue.

Thumb dragging against your lower lip, before he pulls himself from the heat of your pretty mouth. Finding his way to where you take him, tracing slick fingers up your slit. Feeling where you’re stretched wide around him, puffy and slick.

Teasing at your clit - as your hands clench in the sheets, twisted up near your ears.

In a world where the right protection can mean life or death - where a bite can end everything - it’s a wonder how you bare yourself to him. His hand ghosting across soft skin, from breasts to hip. Fingertips indenting flesh, gripping, pulling, tugging.

Watching with greedy eyes how you gaze up at him, an ankle digging into his shoulder - trying to force him deeper. He leans forward, putting more force behind his thrusts, watching the way your lips part with a soft “ah!” with every breath.

Fingers pressing and swiping against the tight bud of your clit, the way he knows you like it.

He needed this too - to bury himself in you. Feel the way you wrap tight and warm around him. His own tongue loosened like this, his own release building again.

“Christ, look at you.” He grits out.

Admiring. It makes you preen, lips stretched wide in a grin, a bright flash of teeth in the dark. Eyes half-lidded and heavy, doing your own slow sweep.

Over a tight waist that your leg hooks around. Bare stomach and broad chest, dusted with dark hair, only the slightest hint of grey. Not like the strands at his temples, the ones that streak throughout the curls. Peppering his facial hair.

Ruining you again. It had been a long time since you wanted something, and you can’t get him out of your head. Always coming back, even though you’re sure it won’t end well.

Because nothing does, any more.

You won’t let your soft heart ruin tonight. Not when his thumb sweeps across your hip. His eyes dark and glittering as he watches your face, as he works you up again.

The sharp rut of his cock and swirl of his fingers so perfect, that the tears start to well up, again.

“Joel,” You say his name again, “F-fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You felt like heaven on his fingers - tight and hot and sopping wet for him. It doesn’t hold a candle to now, how you squirm beneath him, the slap of his skin against yours.

The snug fit of your cunt, as you clench around him.

“Want you to.” He rasps out, resisting the urge to fuck you harder, faster. Keeping the same pace, the same circle of his fingers, “Let me feel you, baby.”

Need you to.

You come with a cry. Back bowing against the mattress, limb wrapping around him. Turning his thrusts into a sloppy grind, your hands coming to grip at his forearms. The waves crashing over you stronger and longer than before, your vision turning dark and hazy.

“Fuck. Fuck-” He growls - as the tight pulse pulls him to the edge.

It’s too much.

It’s all he can think about, as he pulls himself from you. Fisting his cock, jerking himself until he spills across your mound, your slick pussy.

How he wishes he could have stay buried, throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his release. Marking you, only pulling out so he can watch it leak from you later.

The word echos in his ears, layered with the thudding of his heart.

Dangerous.

———

You’re gone, when he wakes up.

The hazy morning sun is just barely casting warm rays of light onto the worn wooden floorboards as he drags himself from bed - a hand passing over his face, pressing into his eyes.

Pushing himself up, making his way over to the window.

But there’s nothing - just puddles collecting in the broken ridges of the roads. The streets washed clean from the rain.

Fingers drift, tracing up the cool frame of the window, until it’s touching the chipped white paint of the latch. Lost in thought for a long moment - before his hand drops back down to the sill.

He leaves the right side unlocked.

thank you so much for reading! 💕

#no show spoilers! 💕#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

3K notes · View notes

firegirl888101 · 8 months

Text

Insatiable Madness (8)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Bedroom arrangements... You have to sort them out soon.

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Would you stop staring at me? It's borderline creepy." You turned behind you, seeing Dottore and Sandrone peering from the doorway.

They had been doing this since you allowed the Harbingers to get comfortable. Some of them in your opinion had been too comfortable considering the current circumstances... But other than that, everything had been going shockingly smoothly.

Well, until you realised none of them could cook using modern technology.

So here you are now, cooking for 12 people with food you definitely couldn't afford everyday.

"You won't let me delve into machines of this century, like 'The Television'. Therefore, you will allow me to study what you're doing..."

"I'm cooking, you fucking weirdo."

"I do not see anywhere that could possibly let out heat, surely a fire is required to cook food?" Dottore argued.

"Just because electricity isn't hot, doesn't mean other materials can't change the temperature."

"I see... So you have an infinite source of electricity which is cooking your food. Then conducting that electricity with a material, perhaps a type of conductive ore, to warm up that pot you placed on that flat slab. To be able to do that... You truly must be powerful and knowledgeable."

"...It's just science and mechanics bro-- and it's not a 'flat slab'! It's a hob."

"Heeeeey, when will the food be ready? I'm starving over here!" Childe whined, entering the kitchen and walking past the two peepers.

Oh my god. This is the fifth time he's said that.

"Ask me that one more time and I'll pour this boiling water over your head."

"How long do you expect us to wait?" Pantalone walked up to you.

"Taking your time as usual, mortals truly are slow." Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

...Maybe it was too early to say things had been going smoothly earlier.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Getting everyone to sit at the table together proved to be a challenge.

The few who did so without complaint soon got up and left when you came back with more willing people, and some refusing to cooperate even when you got Pierro to help you out.

And then you had fuckers like Capitano insisting he 'guards the house' as if it's a fucking castle or private expensive estate.

"I do not see the point in sitting to eat if there could be danger lurking around every corner."

"This is my house. There won't be any danger unless it sneaks in from outside." You tried to convince him, truly you did.

You were so close to getting everyone to sit down. He's the last harbinger you needed... and the dinner is still warm too!

"Your argument is weak and insulting. I have offered to protect your home, and protect your honour. Yet, you force me to move away?" He questions you, his voice showing unfiltered offense.

Well, if he puts it that way.... I suppose he's doing me a favour, he thinks he is in his mind at the very least. If I challenge him I think he'll grow hostile and refuse further...

"Please," You said after a short while of thinking. "Please join us at the table. I promise the moment you finish eating you can return to your duties, Lord Capitano."

If I remember correctly, most if not all Fatui soldiers respected him due to his loyalty towards his soldiers, no matter what age or gender. He would spend his time for them after a battle, and would make sure everyone was healthy and ready for the next day.

Of course, this couldn't possibly be the full truth, he's a Fatui Harbinger! I doubt he got the first rank by just handing cakes to people.

Besides, this was all from memory. If things turned for the worst, you could always google some theories and knowledge. Or...! Or, you could wait for the game to update! Surely more would be revealed there?

"Even if I... joined you for dinner... I wouldn't dare eat." He sighed after thinking about your words.

"Why? Ohhhhh! It's because of your mask, right?" You suddenly realised.

You were just being insensitive all along! How did it take you this long to come to the conclusion he doesn't take it off?

"Could you please still join? I won't pressure you to eat, I promise." You smiled at him.

You heard a deep sigh, then he slowly nodded.

"When the first person finishes eating, I'll return here."

Wooohoo! Finally, that took way longer than you would have liked. You did lie a bit though, you were going to lock the front door so he couldn't just stand in the middle of it anymore.

It was beginning to get a bit cold in the house, and you didn't feel like hearing extra complaints from a certain banker...

You led him towards the dining room, and when you finally arrived, every single harbinger was looking at the two of you with boredom present on their faces.

"Took you long enough." Scaramouche scoffed with his arms crossed. "Why did you even make us sit together anyway?"

"When you go hungry, don't expect me to make you food then."

"They're kidding right? I don't have to eat to survive, unlike some of these mortals." He rolled his eyes.

"It's still polite, show some etiquette." Pantalone lightly scoffed in his direction, a smile present on his face.

"This all looks rather lovely." He complimented you, watching you sit down at the head of the table, opposite of Pierro.

"Thank you, but please don't compliment my cooking. This is the first time I've actually cooked a proper meal."

You didn't actually cook this. You just took all the noodles you had left in your personal cupboard and combined them into one boiling pot.

You were surprised Dottore and Sandrone didn't notice, especially since they were focusing so intently on you.

"Seriously? You're one talented chef! The noodles you made are perfect, just as good as the ones I've tried in Liyue!" Childe praised you, taking the fork on the side of his plate and dragging the noodles up to eye level.

"Wait a minute... Why has everyone else got chopsticks besides me!?" He suddenly realised.

"Because I need to get rid of them, I'm sick of my cupboards piling up with these shit ones. Plus, I'm aware you still can't use them."

Speaking of your personal and reusable chopsticks, you left them in the kitchen.

"I'm excusing myself from the table to get my own chopsticks since I forgot to grab my personal pair. If I come back and see any of you out of your chairs, I'm kicking you out of my house.

"You're not in any position to say--"

"STAY IN YOUR FUCKING CHAIR."

"Alright, alright! Psh, they can't take a joke."

"If you don't want to use the chopsticks I've provided, you may use the forks I placed in the middle of the table." You added in, almost forgetting that part.

Some harbingers let out a sigh of relief.

...I'll not question that.

You stood up and pushed your chair in, walking to the kitchen and grabbing your chopsticks with a special pattern.

Now is the time to take a deep breath, relax, prepare a couple questions you want to ask and get these Harbingers out of your house.

You've gotten too fearful. They killed your family, your neighbours, your friends. You should never forget that fact, you can't fight them or resist in fear of being killed. But, you can learn how to survive with them.

Take another deep breath. Hide your fear as best you can.

"I'm back!" You announced, a smile present on your face as you sat down where you left off.

You watched each Harbinger eat the food you prepared respectfully, some with small smiles and others looking as bored as earlier.

"So...." You started, nervously stirring your noodles.

"You want to ask questions, correct?" Pierro interrupted your collected thoughts, a sigh erupting from his lips.

"It's obvious that's why you grouped us up together, it's downright clear you know some of us can't eat or don't like to."

"Well, now that you've told me it was obvious, I won't beat around the bush."

"Beat around the... excuse me?" Arlecchino raised an eyebrow after eating another.

"Figure of speech."

"Ah, understood. Continue."

"Actually, before you get down to business I'd like to ask a question of my own." Signora raised her hand.

"And... what would that be? Don't you think I've earned the right to ask my questions first?" You turned your attention to her.

Now that you think about it, she hasn't spoken much at all. This is the first time she's directly addressed you since you first got captured.

...Apart from calling you a child of course, you could never forget that of all things.

"The noodles are a little plain, too plain for my liking. Do you have anything extra to add to it? Perchance some condiments? Your bowl looks... different to our own bowl's. What did you add to it?"

"I forgot you don't know how pot noo- I mean noodles work in this world! Sorry, I keep forgetting how you came from another place entirely different to this planet." You gasped, running to the kitchen and returning with different coloured packets.

"What... are they?" Sandrone pointed at the plastic packs.

"They look like poisons my clone's deliver for me to test out." Dottore thought outloud.

"Not at the table, please." Pantalone cringed.

"These, Harbingers, are a miracle in the making." You began, catching the attention of all of them.

'They look like puppies... It's cute.' Is what you would think if you forgot these are bloodthirsty monsters.

"Allow me to introduce you to the world of Sauce Packets. Each colour and size represents a flavour in the packet, and what garnish you'd like on top of your noodles!" You explained, placing all the packets you could find next to the pile of forks which had been unused.

"Amazing! You just get to pick like that?"

"Yup!"

"And... There's nothing else to it? No storing the packets in a cool area so they don't go off?"

"Nope!"

"Incredible... How does the food not become moldly or uneatable?" Dottore muttered.

"They're sealed really well. No air can get in or out until you rip the packet open."

"I want these two." Scaramouche rolled his eyes, grabbing two packs from the pile and holding them above his bowl.

"Be careful not to grab them too tight or they'll--!" You tried to speak as loud and quick as you could. But, unfortunately... "Burst..."

"What the actual shi--!?"

"There's a lot of sauce in those packets... Luckily for you, you held them above your bowl so the majority went in it! Thanks for not wasting any." You struggled to hold your laughter, grabbing a couple tissues from your pocket.

"Did any get on you?" You let a small giggle pass you lips.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes burning through yours. After a couple moments, he came to reality and noticed all the harbingers laughing, giggling and chuckling at his previous actions.

"...No." He snatched the tissues from your open hand.

"How amusing and childish Scaramouche." Dottore commented, covering his mouth which hid his grin.

"I don't want to hear that kind of comment from you of all people." The puppet shook his head with a snarl, wiping his lap with the tissues.

"Alright, I only have these two flavours left, the red packet on your left being a really spicy flavour. The orange packet on your right being chicken. Oh, and, the smaller packets I have contain either basil and garlic, as well as coriander here."

The Harbingers, after hearing your explanation, picked which packets they wanted and put them in their bowls of noodles. Except Capitano, he hadn't touched anything since he sat down at the table.

Once demonstrating how to mix the noodles with the cutlery, the Harbingers began to eat once more with happier smiles than before and light chatter.

"So, you wanted to ask some questions?" Pierro coughed into his hand, his expression soon turning stern and distant.

"Yes! Thank god we're back to this topic." You shook your head, a wry smile on your face.

"...What exactly are you planning to do next?" You asked the first question.

"What do you mean by that?" Columbina smiled eagerly at you.

"You're stuck in my world, thanks to Dottore's compass breaking... which looked oddly close to an illegal chest compass - but I won't judge the design."

"Yes, thank you for adding the 'DOTTORE'S COMPASS' breaking in your reasoning." Sandrone nodded with a satisfactory smile.

"Anyway, what do you plan to do next? You can't just hideout in my house until Dottore somehow creates a new machine, with materials he won't ever get his hands on since you're all no longer in Teyvat."

"You mean you don't have the same minerals here as in Teyvat?" He questioned you, tapping the table to form a little tune.

"Did you really think an ore called 'Magical Ore Chunk' would exist here?"

"...We didn't name it."

"I suppose the one thing you could say exists would be Iron. But I have no idea whether they work the same, they could very well have different effects when mined due to different adaptations to their environment."

"Do you use Iron to craft weapons?" Capitano spoke for the first time since entering the dining room. Too bad he sounds so excited, the answer won't please him too much.

"We do... or, we did. In the past hundred years, we've developed new weapons using different minerals and... chemicals." You grimaced.

"Oooh, this is getting interesting!" Columbina laughed, finishing her noodles with a pleasant sigh. "Sooo good."

"Glad you like them." You nodded at her, before returning your attention back to Dottore.

"Don't ask me about the chemical part. It's illegal for those to know how the dangerous substances are made, unless they're working for the goverment or a specially trained company."

"How dangerous could they really be...?"

"Again," You sighed. "Don't question it."

"I'm still traumatised when you put on that surgery channel earlier this afternoon."

"Back to my question?" You asked them again, tone sounding hopeful for a proper answer.

"Truthfully, we don't know what's going to happen. Haven't had a meeting to discuss it yet." Tartaglia shrugged, finishing also and putting his fork in the bowl.

"Tartaglia." Capitano scolded.

"Yes, Captain!" Childe saluted. Capitano and Pulcinella just shook their heads as a reply.

"Tartaglia is right, we don't know what to do."

"By chance, did your parents happen to know anything revolving machinery and world travelling?"

This is unwelcome territory now.

"Maybe. However, we wouldn't be able to ask them anyway." You shook your head, resisting the urge to lash out.

"Why? Are they out of town? Or perhaps they're at work someplace else?"

"You killed them."

Silence then took hold of the Harbinger's, not one person touched the food in front of them nor moved a centimetre.

"What?" Childe broke the silence, his voice as quiet as a mouse.

"You murdered my family in cold blood, butchered their bodies when you found they had no use to you and then dumped them to the side."

They all continued to stay silent, some closing their eyes, while some's faces showing an ounce of guilt.

Like you believed that guilt though.

"Fuck this." Scaramouche rudely announced, pushing his chair out and walking out of the room.

"I wanted to ask a few more questions, but you know what, I'm not in the mood anymore. Enjoy what's left of dinner, I know I won't. With my bruised body, I'm surprised I've lasted this long without collapsing in pain."

And with that, you left the table for the final time that evening. Carrying your bowl with you, you ascended up the stairs to your bedroom with tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

A bit sad, isn't it? Well, they've got more coming to them so I wouldn't get sad just yet. You wouldn't believe what I've got planned lol

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

On to more happy stuff!:

Thank you all so much for the support, I hope you'll stick with me for the rest of the parts in this series until I get to the finish line. :)

Back to the fluffy stuff convo... I'm really trying to squeeze them in, because if Y/N isn't showing kindness or anything nice to any of them, none of them will begin to grow feelings for them. It may seem out of place, but Y/N is coping right now. It's not like they can leave the house to run for help.

They saw what the Harbingers can do without thinking of other's lives being a consequence.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @conspicuous-mayonnaise @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

623 notes · View notes

monikatouhou · 5 months

Text

Ran Yakumo Simulator 2023

[CORE_SOUL: On]

You are nowhere. There is nothing.

In truth, you are likely in your body, hopefully where you last left it, but you cannot tell at this time.

[DIVINATION_MODULE_v3.5: On] - It will take eight minutes to gain visual input in the right eye. It will take an hour and five minutes for [AUX_AUDIT_PROC_v9] to come online. Heat a tortoise shell and observe the cracks for more information.

You are glad Lady Yukari made it so that this is what typically comes online first. It usually gives you something to look forward to. Though it would perhaps be nicer to be able to see or move first. However, you know from experience that these are some of the more difficult parts of a shikigami to make work.

[CHEN_CONNECTION_v12: On] - She is fast asleep. No further information.

This is the only part of yourself that you made largely on your own. Naturally, it is the least functional. It was worse in the past though.

[...]

[ROCK_GAP_SIMULACRUM: On]

In place of this there used to be a gap connection to the outside world. Lady Yukari called it a "Load Bearing Coconut", even though it was clearly connected to a rock. However, it apparently shattered last year, which of course caused practically everything to either malfunction or break completely. This is a replacement she made. This increased loading time, as did all the previous band-aid fixes over the last several centuries.

[...]

[OLD_REPURPOSED_MODULE_(REPLACE_THIS): On]

[SENSE_INPUT_BUS: On]

[SMELL: On]

[VISION_R: On]

The left eye for some reason always takes at least a few more minutes to come online. Lady Yukari has not been able to explain why that is to you.

You know that you are in fact in your room, and you know that eight minutes have passed. Little you can do with this information for now, since you still cannot move.

You should change your duvet cover later today. This one needs to be washed.

[PROPRIOCEPTION: On]

[TASTE: On]

[SOMATOSENSORY: On]

Your eyes are very dry, much like every morning. They open automatically when you first awake, but you can only blink voluntarily. Not an urgent fix, since this cannot cause you any damage, it's just unpleasant.

[FIXUPS_v3: On]

For the time being, you are stuck staring at the ceiling. Yukari told you once that body motion and eye motion are controlled largely separately in humans, but this is not the case in your body. You cannot move your eyes until the bodily output bus comes online.

[...]

[FIXUPS_B_v5.5: On]

[MOTOR_CONTROL_CORE_v4: On]

This part will help you coordinate your movements once you are able to move.

[FIXUPS_C_v4: On]

[MOTORICS_STABILISER_v2: On]

[...]

[BODILY_OUTPUT_BUS: On]

[GAP: On]

At long last. You blink and rub your eyes in an attempt to get rid of the dryness. You finally sit up. You get up from your bed.

What is this gap for, in any case?

You should probably start going about your day.

You look around your room for what might be your hairbrush. None of your visual processing modules are on yet, and so identifying objects is difficult. Also, your left eye is taking a while to start working. Nevertheless you find what you figure is a brush - it is about the correct lenght, has one thinner part that may be a handle, and a wider part bearing what might be the hairs. Using the same memorized motions you've used for centuries, you brush your hair.

Maybe you should leave your room. Might be good to try to cook something, or if your object identification processing module isn't on yet by then, maybe get a drink.

You walk towards what seems like a door. You look over it to make sure it is not your closet door. The shape of the handle seems right for the one you are looking for, so you start walking towards it.

[FIXUP_OVERHAUL_v0.99: On]

Suffering a momentary lapse of consciousness, you crash right into the door, and fall onto the floor.

This was an attempt of Lady Yukari's to eventually replace all the overly big "fixup" modules with some more streamlined implementation. This giant module, currently attached somewhere around the other fixup and motorics modules, is the result. Frankly, you would be better off without it.

You get back up and open the door.

[VISION_L: On]

[SPEECH_MOTORICS_v2: On]

Took a while. You walk out of your room and head to the kitchen, using your mental map of the house, walking carefully, since your ability to notice obstacles by sight is still impaired.

You enter what you're fairly sure is the kitchen. Probably best you do not cook just yet. You remember Yukari recently purchased some outside world drink. You could try that, to pass the time.

It is bottled, so you look for a bottle, and a glass to pour the drink into. You find objects identifiable as such.

You pour yourself a glass. Isn't this smell strange? You take a sip..

You spit it out. This is vinegar. This was not the right bottle.

[AUX_VISUAL_PROC_OBJECTS_IDENT_v4: On]

This would have been very useful a few seconds ago.

[STAR_MAP_HD: On]

[CLOCK: On] - It is 7:21:30.2912 am

You are unsure what the star chart is for, and every time you asked Yukari, she just chuckled and refused to answer.

You hear a sound behind you in the kitchen. Laughter?

You look in the direction of the sound. The source of it is some sort of person. You cannot tell apart faces yet, but they are wearing one of Yukari's dresses and have blond hair, and so you easily conclude this is probably Lady Yukari.

YAKUMO YUKARI - [Unintelligible]

You cannot yet process speech, so you don't know what she is saying.

YOU - "I'm sorry, Lady Yukari. My auditory processor is not on yet, and so I cannot understand you."

The person you presumed is Lady Yukari laughs again.

You sigh.

You used to be able to do a lot of this processing with the core soul alone, didn't you? Has your core just lost its functions, as it could rely on all the auxiliary processors?

Not that it matters.

You come back to the stove to cook breakfast for yourself, Lady Yukari and Chen. By the time you are done, most modules should be on.

#ran yakumo simulator 2023 #ran yakumo #chen #yukari yakumo #textpost #shikigamiposting #the take i ended up with mid-writing is that the core soul is kinda like the mitochondria in that it loses functions that it doesn't need #anyway this is the first time i ever wrote any amount of fiction #so this is probably awkward in a lot of places #tags and comments appreciated as always

395 notes · View notes

vroomvro0mferrari · 2 months

Text

LN4 | Yeah

Summary: After many failed dates, Lando is always the one to comfort you. Perhaps it's time you look for love in a different place, in someone you already know?

Lando Norris x Reader

WC: 1.0K

Warnings: Curse words, if that’s even a warning.

Masterlist

"Is she okay?" Max said as he saw you storming into the home you shared with him and Lando. You had just come back from a date and let’s just say it did not end well. You had been dating Jack for a while, but he was just expecting too much from you, so you broke up. This was the umpteenth boy that was.

You jumped on your bed, face down, and groaned. Would you ever stay together with someone for longer than a month? Probably not. You twisted around in your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Not being able to find one, you decide to get into your pyjamas first and take your makeup off.

As you finally finished, you plopped on your bed once again, hearing the boys whisper outside your door. They always tried their best to take of you, especially when your behaviour was worrying them, like now. As expected, soon after, a knock came. "Hey love, ‘re you okay? Can I come in?" – it was Lando, Max had pushed him in to confront you because he knew you the longest and the best out of the two of them – or at least that's what he told Lando to convince him.

You just grumbled as an answer, Lando took it as a yes and walked in silently, moving to lay next to you on the bed. He held his arm out for you to lay on as he asked you: "What happened?" As soon as he stretched his arm out you were cuddling into him. "We’re over.", you said, hiding your face in his chest.

"I’m sorry." He said, holding you a little tighter. "'T is alright." you said acting as though it didn’t have any effect on you, as always. And to be honest, it didn't impact you as much as it should have: you knew it wasn't going to last.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t an irregular event for the two of you. You had been through numerous break-ups in the one-and-a-half year you’ve been living with the boys, and after every one of them, Lando would always be there to comfort you.

You hated that every single one of your relationships – if you could even call them that – would always end the same way: they wanted something you couldn’t give them. You had figured it out by now; after so many break-ups, you had come to the conclusion that you were the problem and you’d end up alone. It would end after about a month every single time. Why? Because you couldn’t let them in.

You have never been really lucky relationship-wise. The very few times you found someone you allowed in, they’d leave you heartbroken. Because of that, you haven’t been able to do it again, afraid of the same thing happening once more.

“Maybe you should try to find a different type of guy. I think that could help.” Lando said, trying his best to be helpful. He knows where your relationships are getting stuck; you had confessed to him, although it took much convincing to get you to finally admit it. Also, he has enough of this being a regular occurrence, so he will give any suggestion he can come up with to ensure you don't come home disappointed from your dates any longer.

"How would a different type of guy help? I’m the one who can’t open up. I’m the issue.” You mumbled with your head still hiding in his chest.

“I don’t think that’s true. If you don’t feel like you can open yourself up, then the guy is not right for you. Maybe you should try picking guys up someplace other than the club or online.”

“Are you really questioning my choice of men?” you ask Lando, lifting your head up to look at him, squinting your eyes. Who is he to say you're choosing the wrong people? It's not as if he's picking the greatest, most wonderful girls for dating.

“Well, so far it’s not really working out it, is it?”

The look you gave him said enough, but really, you knew he was right.

“Look, I know it’s your decision to make but every time you come back from those dates disappointed, and I think you deserve better than that. Don’t you agree?” He waited for you to answer, but you were unresponsive as you put your head back down on Lando’s chest. “So, maybe it’s time to look elsewhere.”

“Where am I supposed to meet guys then?”

Lando thought for a second. He thought about how maybe you didn’t need to meet a new guy, that maybe you should look at the people already around you. At the people you had already let in, and who hadn’t broken your heart. But he couldn’t say that straight out. You would ask him what he meant, who he was talking about: was he referring to himself? He'd say no, but you'd look straight through him. He knew you well enough to know how well you knew him.

“I don’t know. Your work? At the shops?” Should he say it? If he brought it up naturally, maybe you wouldn’t notice he was talking about himself. Fuck it.

“Maybe you’ve already met someone you could be in a relationship with, but you haven’t realised it.”

You looked up again, brows furrowed. “What on earth does that mean?”

Lando shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe you could fall in love with someone you already know, someone you’ve already let in, someone you’re already friends with.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You looked at him while you thought about it. “And who would that be?”

Silence.

“You?” You continued.

Fuck. Of course, you’d know Lando was talking about himself. He expected no differently, although he had hoped, and wished, you didn't realise it so quickly.

“Someone like me, yeah.” Lando responded, still looking away.

“Someone like you, or you?” You whispered.

He finally looked at you. “Maybe me.”

“Yeah?” You responded, holding the eye contact.

“Yeah”

You thought about it for a short moment, and came to your conclusion; “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

Silence, again. But this time he held your eye.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered.

“Yeah.”

#Lando Norris #Lando #Norris #fanfic #fanfiction #Lando Norris fanfic #Lando Norris fanfiction #Lando x reader #Lando x Y/N #Formula 1 #Formula 1 fanfic #F1 #F1 fanfic #LN4 x reader #LN4 x Y/N #LN4 imagine #LN4 one shot #LN4 fanfic #friends to lovers

273 notes · View notes

obsessivelullabies · 7 months

Text

⎯ yandere john price.

pairing : john price x fem!reader.

tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, john price x reader, captain price x reader.

warnings : yandere behavior, stalking, oral sex at the end (fem receiving).

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

⎯⎯ you met captain john price in a very casual setting. perhaps it was at a bookstore or a cafe. no matter where, you were immediately charmed by him and his honest, adorable smile. you exchanged contact information.

⎯⎯ like the gentleman he was, he offered to take you out on a date. you obviously agreed, what wasn't to like? he was mature, gruff and seemed very intelligent. he was just your type.

⎯⎯ your date went amazingly, he opened doors for you, pulled out your chair for you and was so caring, it made you want to squeal. however, you discovered he was in the military, which you had your reserves about. you decided it was worth it to see what would happen.

⎯⎯ you two had more dates, until you finally made it official. he took such good care of you. he would come to your apartment and made you a romantic dinner, massage your shoulders after a long day and adhere to your every want.

when you opened the door to your apartment, your eyes lit up. a pleasant aroma wafted in the air. your apartment was cleaned properly, and the table was set with your favorite meal. you immediately noticed your boyfriend in the kitchen, he grinned his familiar smile at you.

he approached you, taking off the apron he was wearing. he gave you a sweet kiss and wrapped his toned arms around you. he kissed your forehead, "missed you, baby." was all he murmured.

"i missed you too, bear!" you giggled, nuzzling into his firm chest.

john ushered you to sit down at the table, where he had prepared your favorite meal.

the two of you chatted all throughout dinner, he asked about your day, told you about his and any other topic that came to mind. something you loved about john was how good of a listener he was.

⎯⎯ john's first deployment since you began dating was rough. he ached for your touch, to hear your sweet voice soothing him, to be able to pamper and kiss you. phone calls whenever he wasn't busy were scarce. this is when john realized how much he needed you.

⎯⎯ when john came back, something was different about him. he was still an amazing boyfriend, yet he was much more needy and.. possessive? you had no clue where the energy had come from.

it had been a long shift at your work, you were exhausted. thankfully, john was going to pick you up and bring you home.

in an act of good faith, one of your male coworkers offered to walk you out to your boyfriends car, due to how late it was into the night and how dangerous it could potentially be.

and that's exactly what he did, simply walk you out to john's car. long story short, john did not like this. your boyfriend stood outside his car, waiting to open the door for you. he noticed your male coworker and was pissed. he flatly told your coworker, "my girlfriend doesn't need you to watch her", and scared him.

once you sat down in the car, john immediately spoke up. "what was that?" he practically hissed.

"he was just walking me out to the car cause it's so late.." you mumbled nervously, not liking his tone. you avoided his gaze.

john reached over to you, grabbing your chin and turning your head to face him. "you don't need another man to protect you. i'm the only man you'll need." he stated confidently. "understood?"

"understood.." you nod, your face flushing.

he gently stroked your cheek, "good.. you're my precious girl, i won't ever let someone hurt you.." he leaned over and gave you a soft kiss.

you smiled at his words, any anxiety you had before vanishing. john was so sweet.

⎯⎯ a few more months into your relationship, johns infatuation for you only grew. after a particularly long deployment, john needed to constantly be by your side. he pressured you to move into his house, rambling about how he needed to keep you safe.

⎯⎯ a week after pitching the idea that you moved in with him, whether you wanted to or not, you now lived with him. he helped you pack all your things from your apartment and sort them into his home. he was so happy to have you with him, yet he had other ideas for what he wanted out of you.

⎯⎯ after a month of living with him, john began to pressure you to quit your job. he reassured you that he would take care of you. you could depend on him. he wanted you to depend on him. he eventually wore you do.

⎯⎯ this isn't where he stopped. over time, he made sure you spent more and more of your time with him. he was so clingy. john only ever wanted you to be around him. he constantly needed to know where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.

⎯⎯ john was so obsessed with you. you were the most important thing in his life. whenever he was deployed, you were all he thought about. he wanted pictures of you every day. photos of your face, of your body, your outfits, he wanted every little update about you.

at the moment, you were bent over your shared bed with johns face shoved between your thighs. his tongue rapidly darting between your folds, hitting every spot that made you squirm and cry out.

he sloppily devoured your cunt, licking and sucking your clit. every so often, he'd pull away to place sweet kisses on your thighs and folds. "this pretty little cunt.." he cooed, peppering your thighs with kisses. "all mine.."

you mewled pathetically into the bedsheets as he ravished you. his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to stay in place despite your squirming.

as you came on his tongue, you felt waves of pleasure surge through you, your moans and cries filling the bedroom. he rode out your orgasm, overstimulating your fragile state.

in the aftermath of his teasing, he had you scooped in his arms as he murmured praises into your ear, praising your beautiful body, telling you how much he loves you.

"you'll always be mine," he purred, "my perfect little angel." he placed a kiss atop your head.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

authors note: i don't know how i feel about this, it's mostly unedited. i apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes!

#john price x reader #yandere #john price #cod x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere john price #captain john price #captain price #cod #141 #price #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #task force 141 #john price headcanons

567 notes · View notes

iaure · 1 year

Text

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city. tw: general yandere/obsessive behaviour, ptsd, survivor's guilt, cyberstalking, mentions of suicide (though not the actual act of it)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i intend for this to be multiple parts, as it's already become quite long before there was any real yandere behaviour. updating may be scattered due to work.

you met him in the aftermath.

♡ there was an online support group for survivors, and after you barely escaped with your life, you needed all the help you could get.

♡ most of the members were nice enough. there was a lot of comforting, a lot of 'it's not your fault' and a lot of just trying to cheer each other up.

♡ there was one member in particular that always, always responded to your posts and comments.

♡ the user didn't have an account; you always simply chalked it up to them being technologically illiterate, or maybe they were simply forgetful.

♡ perhaps that was a bit naïve; if they could always remember your posts, who were they to forget having an account?

♡ but that didn't matter. they always signed off the same way-with a single initial, K.

♡ maybe it was a bit sappy. but having someone in your corner felt nice, after everything.

♡ ultimately, they were harmless and sweet, so having them around in your little slice of the internet was fine. ♡ they always worked double-time to cheer you up.

maybe K was a bit jealous. ♡ when you would speak with other group members, K would like your responses.

♡ sometimes, though, they'd pitch in; ignoring the other user entirely and simply talking with you as though you were the one who started the conversation.

♡ you tried to ignore it. other members on the forum didn't say anything, so you assumed it wasn't too strange.

but then they started to become more intimate. ♡ they would bring up small things that felt too strange to be a coincidence.

♡ they'd recommend you relax by watching that show you just started, or snacking on some of your favourite food, or taking a nap because it 'seemed' you were working to hard.

♡ they were personal enough to make your stomach churn, but it was not enough that you weren't able to reason it away.

♡ they were still so sugary sweet as well, and despite the unnerving nature of their kindness, the support meant everything.

♡ in a forum where everyone is upset and needing help at once, having someone that focused on you was nice.

♡ because at the end of the day, when you went into your bed, there always felt like something was wrong.

♡ the room was too small. you thought of what you did in the city, what you didn't, who you didn't save and who you damned.

♡ the sheets were too warm. your window had a shadow over it. the closet, was it cracked open? did something move around when you weren't looking?

♡ part of you knew in your heart of hearts that it was simply Raccoon City scaring you like a ghost. because if it wasn't, then what was haunting you?

you needed to get out. so, you got a job.

♡ at first, it was hell on earth. just leaving your home was hard enough; but going outside for upwards of eight hours was horrifying.

♡ your manager and coworker, however, were kind. they knew what you had gone through, and didn't rush you. the regulars were sweet, giving short words of encouragement.

♡ maybe this wasn't so bad.

♡ courtesy of the little bakery you worked at now, you were fed. you were getting paid. you began getting more sunshine, cleaning up more, feeling more accomplished.

♡ you started to stop posting.

♡ you had other things to focus on, now. you were considering getting a pet; so you had to save up money.

♡ but after a week and a half of not going on the forum at all, you decide to make an update.

K had made an account.

♡ oh, they had made one; they had made it to send hundreds upon hundreds of pleas into your messages.

♡ 'please, you mean so much', they begged. 'talk to me!', they wept.

♡ maybe they assumed you had offed yourself. it was possible.

♡ you took a second to look through all of them, feeling warm at first. K was sweet and kind and so soft, apparently.

♡ but with every message, they seemed to take one inch closer to strange, to creepy, to outright alarming.

♡ "please don't do anything rash!"

♡ "you don't know how much you mean to me!"

♡ "i know it's hard, but hang on for me!"

♡ "i need to know you're okay!"

♡ "whatever it is, i can help, please just let me in"

♡ "is it that job? it's the job, right? they're working you to death"

♡ "please just respond!"

♡ the horror seemed to grow with every message, up until one from just an hour or two ago;

"i just love you too much, i think" ♡ something isn't right.

♡ ...

♡ maybe it's time that you blocked K.

♡ you blocked their account, knowing it probably wouldn't do much. if they knew about your job, then what else did they know about?

♡ but you didn't hear much after that. there was a day or two where you were scared to even go to work, but that's alright.

you have a new regular.

♡ he's very sweet, almost achingly so; whenever he came into the bakery, he seemed equal parts nervous and bashful. he always tipped exceedingly well, and his order usually was some sort of new health option the owner was trying out.

♡ he wasn't just nice, though; he was pretty as well. he had a cute chin and his hair seemed always soft, and he spoke offhand about how he liked to work out because of his job.

♡ He was always happy to talk, but knew to leave if there was a line and didn't stay any longer than he was wanted.

♡ you didn't even know his name for a good month; but he often took liberty dropping yours.

♡ when you asked how he knew, he had a bright flush on his face before admitting that he had asked your coworker.

♡ how sweet!

♡ you found his name was Leon S. Kennedy, who was self-dubbed as "rookie cop extraordinaire".

♡ he began to clearly go out of his way to come into the bakery, sometimes coming in after clear workouts with a gym bag over his shoulder and a tank top on. was visiting a bakery after a workout counterintuitive?

♡ absolutely.

♡ but you don't mind. it's nice, seeing a cute face coming into work. and it always feels like he's doing it just for you. quite the special creature you are!

♡ he held a constant enthusiasm to talk to you, and it's enough to make your heart ache.

♡ the kicker comes when, offhand, he mentions Raccoon City; how he had gone to the police department for his first day and ended up saving a woman and a young girl from the apocalypse.

♡ instantly, your heartstrings are pulled because oh god. someone who understands. someone who did more than you could, has done more.

♡ you finally begin to get closer to him of your own accord. once or twice, you've even hinted at being single.

♡ each time you did, Leon would freeze; big blue eyes staring right at you with a pink flush that would anyone crumble. he even shook a little, like a small dog, and each time you'd have to laugh.

♡ it snaps him back to reality, and the conversation carries on.

but things are quiet on the eastern front.

♡ you haven't heard much from K since you blocked them. it's only natural, considering the steps taking. but sometimes, you wonder if K is still watching, what K really knew.

♡ maybe they were just an excellent guesser.

♡ but they've since gone silent. account or no, they're not saying anything anymore, and there's some semblance of peace.

♡ but you're still uneasy. something is still wrong.

♡ ...

♡ was your bed always this warm when you wake up?

#yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere resident evil #yandere x reader #yandere resident evil x reader #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ palabras muertas #divagaciones (per)

2K notes · View notes

varpusvaras · 1 month

Text

Beru found out about their new neighbour on a one pretty unremarkable day.

Owen was out that afternoon, gone to recycle some of the old machinery parts they had left after one of their perimeter sensors had finally been worn down by the increased storms. The desert was calm that day, thankfully, as Luke had started to become very restless from not getting to go outside in days.

Perhaps Beru should've realised that such restlessness was going to make Luke forget their usual rules, in his haste to get out of the house, as all of a sudden she noticed that the immediate area around the house was uncharacteristically quiet, and not full of noises made by little boy playing space battles.

She didn't, however, get too far in her searches, when there was a tall shadow casted onto the sand right next to hers.

"Excuse me-" The man didn't even get to finish what he was saying, when Beru had already reacher for the prybar in the toolbox and turned around, gripping it tightly and ready to strike.

The Suns were partially behind the man, obscuring his features momentarily from her. She was tall and broad-shouldered, standing straight with his head held high even in the heat of the day. On his arms he held Luke, who had his arms around the man's neck in a relaxed, loose grip.

That made her loosen up her grip from the prybar just a little. Luke had the gift of knowing when to trust people, even if sometimes that trust overextended itself a little. The man's hold of Luke was, however, also relaxed, which made him a bit more trustworthy to Beru.

The man bend down and placed Luke onto the ground, and by doing so, he gave his face enough shadow for Beru to see him better.

He looked young, if a bit weathered, with some lines already forming on his face, though Beru could tell that they were in places that usually got creased up when someone was constantly concerned about something. There was a long scar running down the side of his face, showing up starkly as the skin around it had tanned more recently. It was the thing that told Beru that the man had not spent too much time on the desert yet, despite his clothes having already been weathered as well, and his footing being even enough on the sand. His dark, curly hair looked like it had only now started to grow out of a very well-maintained shorter cut. Another sign of him being a newcomer.

Still, there was something familiar in him, something Beru couldn't quite place, and she wasn't quite sure if that should've made her relax more or be more suspicious of him.

The man looked at her. His dark eyes were just as weathered as the rest of him, but still kind.

Beru made her decision. She lowered the prybar, and let go of it with her other hand, grabbing at Luke instead.

The man's shoulders lowered a bit as well.

"Excuse me", he said. "I saw your nephew had gotten a bit far away from the house."

Beru looked down at Luke. He looked up at her, and gave her a bit of a sheepish smile.

"Yes", Beru said, and looked back up at the man. "Thank you."

The man nodded.

"No problem at all", he said to her, and then turned to speak to Luke. "Stay where you're supposed to. The desert is a dangerous place."

"But you were there by yourself as well", Luke piped up, not able to resist the urge to talk back just a little.

The man smiled at him. Beru though he had a rather nice smile, even if it was worn down as well. She wondered what kind of hardships he had gone through, out there in the Galaxy, to seem like he had been sanded down by a multiple of storms already.

"I've seen a lot of places that are worse than this, kid", the man said. "I'll be just fine."

He then nodded his head again at Beru, lifted the back of the dark blue cape he had draped over his shoulders over his head, turned around and walked into the desert without another word.

Beru watched him go, ever so slightly confused about the whole interaction. She only moved his eyes away when Luke tugged at her hand.

"Did you know him?" He asked. "I've never seen him before. Not here or in town."

Beru shook her head.

"No", she said. "Did he say anything to you?"

She had not had the mind to even ask the man his name. She looked back out in the desert. He had already disappeared somewhere beyond the dunes.

Luke shook his head.

"He did know you are my aunt", he said. "And not my mom."

True, Beru realised. He had called Luke her nephew, without any introductions.

She decided not to be too alarmed about that. There weren't a lot of people who lived in the area. Chances were that the man had just heard about them already, and remembered who lived in the house.

Still. Not a lot people lived in the area, and even less had any business around there either. On top of that, even though she was more than sure that she had never seen the man before, Beru thought he had looked awfully familiar in some way.

"He seemed nice", Luke said. "He felt nice."

"If you say so, my little sun", Beru said. "Your feelings are often very precise."

She decided not to tell Owen about the man that evening. He would've just gotten unnecessarily worried about it.

----

Beru saw a dark blue cape in the corner of her eye.

When she turned, it wasn't the man from the desert, even if she was sure it was the same cape, with the tattered edges and faded shoulders.

She did know the man wearing it, though. Ben seemed to feel her eyes on him, as he also turned to look at her, and very briefly nodded at her before he went back to dealing with a customer.

Beru thought about it as she went on her business, and she walked back by Ben's stall as she came back.

Ben was already packing up by then, and Beru saw that he had also made purchases, as he was tying some wares that Beru didn't believe he had brought all the way from his house to the town. At the top were a new bedroll, and a pair of boots that even from afar looked too big for Ben's feet.

Beru smiled, before turning away. It really seemed like Ben wasn't alone anymore. That was good.

#idk just wanted to write something about desert husbands #a hot new bombshell has just entered the desert #sw #tcw #my writing #snippets #beru whitesun #commander cody #luke skywalker #obi wan kenobi #codywan #desert husbands #post order 66 au

214 notes · View notes