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joelsgreys · 6 months

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strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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somnambulic-thing · 9 months

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This fic is part I of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

Series Masterlist

greedy Eddie Munson x gn!best friend reader, early 20s, E 18+

Words: 1.8k

| best friends to lovers, fluff, finger sucking, light biting, Eddie comes in his pants, get together, silly and a little cheesy, not proofread |

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“You need something?”

“Huh?” you look up from your book and right into Eddie’s eyes staring at you over the edge of his mattress the way a nosey neighbour might lurk over a garden fence. You’d been so lost in your thoughts about Eddie that you hadn’t noticed him abandoning his own book to creep up close to you. You, spread out your stomach on his sheets. Eddie, perched on his carpet in increasingly uncomfortable-looking positions as the evening progresses, but never more than an arm’s length away. You always could just reach out and give his hair a thorough ruffling whenever you felt like it.

That’s just how it was, just one of the many shapes your togetherness takes. Rituals established and refined over years. You share the bed during movie nights, or when one of you is reading out loud to the other and you settle down on the armchair without even thinking about it the second Eddie picks up one of his guitars to play for you, leaving the bed to him.

“Ah, finally I caught your attention,” he says, muffled by the mattress, his fingers slowly creeping over the edge. It’s adorable.

“What did you say?” you mumble and snap your book close as if the pages could somehow give away that you had been only pretending to read the whole time. He would see smouldering holes with charred edges where your intense stare had lingered and ask you why your brain was producing such intense heat that you ruined the copy of Howl’s Moving Castle he got you for your unbirthday only a week ago.

His brows draw slightly together. His fingers curl to grab the sheets and then he’s dramatically and labourously pulling himself up like he’s climbing a cliff in a storm, huffing and groaning.

“You need any help?” you chuckle; an insufficient expression for the unbridled affection you harbour for this silly man.

“No… no… almost— ahhh.” Chest now flat on the mattress, back bend in one of those ways that made you certain there wasn’t one solid bone in Eddie Munson’s body. He crosses his arms on the mattress and rests his chin on top of his wrist, so close now you could just dip down to press your lips to his forehead.

He smiles up at you. “Book s’ good then?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?” he mocks you. “You haven’t reacted to a thing I said in the past twenty minutes so I assumed the story must be really captivating.”

“Oh!”

“Stop that!” you huff in faux exasperation, tapping that very kissable-looking spot of forehead lurking through his messy bangs with your index finger.

With an eerie speed, Eddie grabs your finger in his fist. You watch in slow motion as he opens his mouth wide and guides your hand closer and closer, large dark eyes fixed on you, daring and full of mischief.

The routine would be to struggle. To say: no, Eddie, bad Eddie! Maybe shove him a little, maybe curse his ass, have a little wrestle, have him breathing hot against your neck as he tries to pin you down; it’s tempting. So tempting. But you don’t.

You just watch, mesmerized, how your finger slowly disappears inside his mouth, almost two digits deep, watch his lips pull back from his teeth, his jaws close.

He’s gentle, not biting to hurt, just playfully chomping down a few times.

Does his heart pound as fast as yours? Does he know what he’s doing to you?

You want to push in deeper, long for his lips to close around you, to suck you in.

He is hiding his tongue from you and that won’t do.

“Careful,” you say with a grin, “could be poisonous.”

And, oh, how willingly he takes the bate.

The soft, wet tip finds the pad of your finger, slides back and forth over and over while the corners of his mouth twitch wickedly. The routine would be to say: gross, Eddie, eeew Eddie and to free yourself from his hold and coat his cheek in a thick stripe of saliva in revenge, feel him shiver when you blow cool air against his wet skin. But you don’t.

Because this is perfect.

And maybe this was how your problem solved itself. It has been weeks of wracking your brain on how to figure out if Eddie too craved to deepen your friendship the way you did without ruining everything in case he didn’t, but maybe the solution was simply to stick your finger into his mouth and give him free rein over it.

“Gnophe!” he mumbles and shakes his head. His teeth clamp down just a little bit harder.

“No?” you ask softly, “You feel good?”

Eddie nods and as if wasn’t obscene already, the way he looks up at you through his lashes, big eyes playful and excited, the eagerness of the gesture only amplifies the spectacle in front of you.

“No weird tingling? No? Or hot flashes?” He sets to shake his head but doesn't follow through. Instead, his eyes widen for a split second; if you had blinked at that moment, you’d have missed it. You can feel the sheet under you being pulled taut, you follow the movement to Eddie’s hand still resting on the bed, twisting the fabric in a clenched fist.

“Because,” you work hard to keep your breath steady, “your cheeks are so very red, Eddie.”

He swallows loudly. The action forces his lips to close around your knuckle, cool and wet, and your mind goes blank.

“Fuck,” you moan softly.

His fingers around your hand twitch, his eyes flutter and then shut. You press your thighs together and your hips into the mattress, mourning the absence of his gaze and before you know what you’re doing, the knuckle of your middle finger nudges his bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. Eddie groans; a long stretched noise fading out into a high-pitched sound you’d almost call whiny. The pressure of his teeth disappears and his tongue darts out, nudging guiding sweeping your middle finger into his mouth as well. Eddie hums, running the tip of his tongue along the groove between them.

“Look at me.”

Beneath you, on the floor, on his knees, with your fingers in his mouth, Eddie opens his eyes and with that, tells you everything you need to know and more than you hoped for.

You push in deeper, just slightly past the second joint and Eddie sucks in his cheeks, trapping you in the wet heat of his mouth.

“You like that?”

The nod is slow, almost heavy. Saliva collects at the corners of his mouth.

Lifting your hips, you pull your knees under your stomach and start to sit up. Eddie sucks you in harder, brows drooping as if in worry you could end this now.

“Shit, you’re adorable when you’re greedy,” you say and come to sit on the edge of the bed. Eddie moves with you, eyes fixed on your face. He swallows again hard when you settle with your knees apart and pressed into his sides. Large hands settle on your thighs, squeezing softly, then running up up up until they find your hips to hold on to.

Your heart races with the new shape your togetherness is forming, with the trust and longing in Eddie’s eyes. Your free hand cups his cheek and he leans into the touch, sighing softly. It’s perfect.

Then the suction is gone, you draw back just slightly and his tongue prods the edge of your palm.

“You want more?”

A moan.

“You sure?”

A moan and a nod and your insides catch fire. You slide a third finger into his mouth and revel in the smooth slide of his tongue between them, the way he’s drooling for and around you. He bites down a few times, mostly soft but testing you with harder chomps in between. Your other hand winds into his hair at the back of his head, testing him with soft scratches, soft pulls and a few firm tugs in between. He likes those, moans and slides his fingertips under the hem of your shirt, digging into your skin, holding on tight; he’s vibrating.

“Look at you,” you breathe and lean in close, pressing a kiss to his hollowed cheek, to his jaw, close to his ear. “You look so much better like this than I could have ever imagined.”

Teeth clamp down, the sting is delicious. Eddie moans, hips twitching between your knees.

“What pretty things you can do with this big beautiful mouth.”

Eddie draws his head back, releasing your fingers all at once and slumps against you. You embrace him, welcome him where he belongs now. His face is pressed to your neck, hands finding your back under your shirt, nails digging in.

“Keep talking, please,” he groans against your skin and licks a dripping stripe along your throat. “Taste so good… please…”

“Fuck,” you drawl out, overwhelmed and buzzing, desperately rolling your hips against his stomach. “Wanna know what else y-you can do with that mouth, can think of something sweet for that clever tongue to taste—“

“H’lly shiii—“ he nearly pushes you over, jerking and twitching in your arms. You feel teeth grazing your neck, then he’s sucking on your skin and it stings he’s sucking so hard. It lasts a little longer until he stills and goes slack in your arms, breathing heavily. You’re dizzy and hot and you want to have him twitch and writhe for you again. You want to see his face when he does.

“Just…” he pants into your shoulder, pulls your collar aside and kisses it. “Just wanted to know if you needed something from the kitchen…”

You laugh and scratch his neck, desperate to feel him shiver again. He does.

“Did… you just—“

“Fucking come into my pants? Yepp… Was that unclear?”

“Just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Minx.” Eddie draws back, cups your face with both hands and kisses you. His lips are wet and swollen from sucking on your fingers and the moan escaping you vibrates hard against his mouth. Eddie’s tongue pushes past your lips to lick into you. He’s sloppy and excited, nibbling on your lips, licking your teeth, smiling and moaning and he’s just perfect.

“That a good time to tell you that I’m in love with you?” he pants, forehead pressed to yours.

“Oh yeah,” you laugh softly.

“Yeah? Cool,” his warm hands run up your sides. “Because I’m ridiculously in love with you, sweetheart.”

“Got a pretty bad case for you as well—“

“Nuh-uh…,” he pulls back to look at you, smirking. “Say it.”

“I’m in love with you, Eddie Munson.”

He wiggles his head and laughs, mouth wide open and baring teeth. The hands on your back slide down and straight to the waistband of your pants. You almost slip off the bed when he hooks his fingers in and pulls.

“Jesus, you’re eager.”

“Greedy,” he says nervously, blushing, but with so much determination. “And you promised me something sweet.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #my fic

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ventismacchiato · 9 months

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41 behind the lens — truth or drink !

scaramouche x g!n reader

you and scara get asked to go on the youtube talk show ‘truth or drink’, where you ask eachother a series of questions. if one of you decides not to answer you must take a shot instead.

welcome to truth or drink! celebrity couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot!

Scara immediately starts pouring himself a shot.

You: we haven’t even started yet!

how long have you both been together?

Scara: about five years

You: five long years

Scara: go fuck yourself?

how did you both get together? did you two secretly pretend to hate each other online? everyone is dying to know!

You start reaching for the bottle but Scara yanks it away from you.

Scara: go on, answer it baby

You: do i have to?

Scara: if you don’t then i will

You: fine. basically i fell for scara before i knew he was a popular streamer, he was just a classmate from my photography class. the day after our first date is when i found out he was the balladeer.

Scara: and you continued to date me and not tell me you were my mortal enemy!

You: he’s still petty about this as you can see

when did he find out you were stardust?

You: a month later i think? after we went to paris for twitch con?

Scara: i need a drink just listening to this

worst thing you both experienced after doing your face reveal years ago?

Scara: no more alone time, i couldn’t even go for a walk without people recognizing me

You: also college was so weird after, i remember professors would play my videos after and ask if that was me. like obviously it is?

Scara: also so many photos, couldn’t even go to a public bathroom without people trying to photograph my dick

You: thankfully it’s died down since then

how often do you guys have sex?

Scara: it used to be every other day

You: but then we got real people jobs like acting and directing and now it’s less

Scara: a shame

most public place you’ve have sex?

You and Scara both share a look.

You: okay, i’ll divulge one place that’s not too bad. his trailer on his most recent project

Scara silently takes a shot.

have you ever considered breaking up?

This time it’s your turn to take the bottle away from Scara.

Scara: i wasn’t serious about it, but i have thought about it

You: tell them how many times

Scara: not my fault i have commitment issues!

have you ever cheated on one another?

Scara: they cheated on me with my alter ego

You: I TOLD YOU EVENTUALLY DIDN’T I?

what’s something about eachother the media wouldn’t believe?

You: he is so clingy, but it’s so cute

Scara: i am not

You: you’re literally playing with my foot right now

Scara: fuck off, and nobody would believe how kinky you are

You: i think you mean how kinky you are

Scara: and you’re into it so what does that say about you?

You: pour me a shot

how many sexual partners have you had?

Scara stares off to the side to count in his head.

Scara: 20?

You: the way you don’t even know

Scara: before you i just had a lot of one night stands, i was a whore

You: you still are

Scara: you’re into it

You: …unlike him i will be taking a shot for this one

have you talked about marriage?

You: tell them what you told me

Scara: marriage is a social construct, why do i have to host a big event and get down on one knee to prove i want to be with someone for the rest of my life? yn already knows i love them and now i have to get a ring and do paperwork too? society sucks

You: he’s insane, but we have talked about it

Scara: they will be proposing though

You: he’s such a princess

if you were allowed one pass, who would you sleep with?

You: wait, out of people we know?

Scara: Hm…say it on three

You: okay…1…2…3

You and Scara: Kazuha

Scara: honestly, i think he and Heizou would be down

something romantic your partner does?

You: honestly he has a lot…a recent one i found out about was when Scara buys me flowers he always keeps one for himself, so when it dies he knows when to get me a new bouquet

Scara: okay

You: awe look, he’s all shy now

how many kids do you both want if any?

Scara: i like kids but i want zero of my own

You: he compared it to a dog

Scara: that makes me sound bad! i said it’s like a dog because other people’s dogs are cute but if i had my own i would accidentally kill it

You: my blood line ends with me

if your partner was in a coma, how long would you wait for them?

Scara: a good year, maybe two if i feel like it

You: THAT’S IT?

Scara: …yeah?

You: offended you won’t wait an eternity for me and never fall in love again

Scara: my water bill will finally be normal again without you

You: such a romantic you are

how often do you two get into arguments? and what about?

You: not as much as we used to, we’re better at finding solutions and communicating

Scara: it’s usually about how busy we are due to work

You: yeah sometimes we go weeks without seeing eachother and it makes him cranky

Scara: one time they ran towards me at an airport

You: it was romantic!

Scara: i had to drop my coffee to catch you

something about marriage that scares you?

Scara pours himself a shot.

You: hey, tell me!

Scara: no thanks

You: Please?

Scara: …fine. just scared you’ll get bored eventually or realize i’m not the one

You: i’ll ever get bored of you!

Scara: we’ll see

has anyone flirted with you during a project? any fellow actors or directors?

You: sometimes people hit on him right in front of me

Scara: you’re no better, people hit on you more. literally just last week—[censored]

You: can you guys bleep that so nobody loses their job!

first impression of each other?

You: i thought he was the cutest boy in class

Scara: you’re fun to listen to

You: i talked a lot during our college days didn’t i?

Scara: you still do

You: wow…

Scara: didnt say i disliked it, idiot

one thing you would change about the other?

Scara: nothing

You: okay i feel bad about my answer

Scara: fuck you?

You: i was going to say i wish you were less of a workaholic!

Scara: i can try

how do your parents feel about your relationship?

Scara: thanks for watching, make sure to like and subscribe and comment down below-

You: sore topic as you can see

last one before we let you two go, something you love about eachother?

You: he’s going to take a shot

Scara slowly puts the bottle back down.

You: told ya

Scara: theres so many fucking people watching me right now

You: fine, i’ll go first. i like how he shows his love for me in different ways like a lot of people think hes really cold but once he gets comfortable he can be the loudest and sweetest person in the room

Scara: thanks i guess

You: look how red he is

Scara: do you want to die?

You: okay, my turn!

Scara: i like…how you make me feel safe

You: you’re so cute

Scara: die

You: i love you too

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

author’s notes — i thought this wud be silly so hope u enjoyed 🙏 almost free 😭😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

#behind the lens smau #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #scaramouche x reader smau #genshin scaramouche

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

Family Ties (Chris Sturniolo)

contains: fluff, kissing, general sweetest, meeting y/n's family, cussing, a bit of suggestive language, 900+ words

a/n: hehe the brother is so based on mine. i hope y'all like this cus i think it's cute.

“What do I get out of it?”

My little brother gives me a smug little grin that I’m just dying to wipe off his face. But sadly, I need him on my side tonight. I cross my arms and give him a death glare.

“20.”

“50.”

“30.”

“Make it 35. Isn’t your boyfriend rich or something?”

I roll my eyes at his stupidity and stick out my pinky finger for him to shake. He glances from my finger to my face for a couple of seconds in disbelief. “God, you’re such a nerd.” He mutters before latching pinkies with me and shaking once.

“Okay, dickhead. No bringing up my exes. No scaring him off. And if Mom or Dad start getting too embarrassing, you throw me a Hail Mary.”

He rolls his eyes but nods. “Poor guy. He’s gotta wait a little longer to find out you’re a freak of nature, I guess.”

I buck at him and he flinches causing me to grin. “Eleven years old and still a bit-”

“I’m thirteen, you asshole.”

“Aren’t you a little short for a twelve-year-old?”

“Thirt- You know what. Just for that, I’m telling the story about when you pissed on that roller coaster.”

“Alright. Chill-”

********************

I hear a knock on the door and jump up before my parents can bombard Chris. I swing it open and he’s standing there looking calm as ever. God, I wish I had his energy right now. I step outside and close the door behind me, stepping into his arms and reaching up for a kiss. He smiles against my lips and then pulls away, brushing my hair from my face.

“You look nervous.” He teases lightly. I tilt my head and give him a duh face and he laughs. “They’re gonna love me.”

“Well, of course. How could they not? You’re just so humble.”

“And handsome-”

“And down to earth-”

“And so in love with their daughter.” He gives me his best cheesy smile at this and I roll my eyes, pretending that didn’t almost take me out the game.

“Okay, come on, you fucking cornball.” I joke, slipping my hand in his. He tugs my hand, stopping me before I can open the door, and leans down to kiss me again quickly.

“Alright, now we can go.”

*******************

“Do you want to see her sixth-grade talent show?” My mom says excitedly, reaching over to turn the page of the photo album Chris is holding. I look over at my brother giving him my “help me right the fuck now” eyes and he interrupts before Chris can respond.

“Chris, you game at all?”

I breathe a sigh of relief and remind myself to go extra hard on his birthday gift this year. Chris sits up a little straighter, clearly excited, as my brother and he start up a conversation about “prime Fortnite.” Losers. My dad chimes in about how they haven’t lived until they’ve played the Nintendo 64 and my mom and I share a long-suffering look. She stands to head to the kitchen and I follow her out, leaving the boys to talk.

I stand next to her by the sink, watching her start to rinse off dishes for a second then nudge her shoulder with mine so she looks at me.

“So?”

She turns to me smiling brightly. “He’s sweet. I can tell he’s a good kid. And you look so happy. Every five seconds, you’re smiling up at him like he hung the stars, my love. But the best part? He’s looking right back at you the same way.” I look at her stunned for a second and drop my head on her shoulder, a little embarrassed.

“I love you, mom.” She pats the side of my head, pulling me closer.

“You played hockey? No shit! I damn near went to the NHL, I was so good in my day. C’mon. You, me, field hockey outside right now.”

My dad’s booming voice pulls me right out of the moment and I spin on my heels to go rescue my boyfriend.

**********************

“It was so nice to meet you guys,” Chris says with a genuine smile, reaching to give Mom a hug.

“You just come right on back whenever you want that ass-whooping, son.” My dad says, throwing a fake haymaker which Chris fake dodges with a laugh. He turns to my brother and daps him up. “You got my gamertag, right.” My brother gives him an enthusiastic nod, looking the most excited I’ve seen him in a while.

“Hell yeah, bro. Hop on Fortnite later.” Chris nods and I pull him to the door before they can start back up. As soon as we step outside, I jump up into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. He laughs, wrapping his arms tightly around me and walking us to his car.

“Thank you for being a good sport, Chris. They love you.”

He lowers me back to the ground and smiles down at me throwing me a fake cocky shrug.

“I told you, I’m good like that.”

I roll my eyes, step closer to him, and whisper low, “You want to see what I’m good at?”

He raises his eyebrows and then picks me up again, carrying me to the passenger seat as I shriek and laugh.

"Hell yeah, I need a full demonstration.”

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fandom #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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pulisicsgirl · 3 months

Text

favorite t-shirt - christian pulisic

summary: after an afternoon spent together, the rain forces Christian and Y/N into a startlingly domestic evening, and he’s not quite sure how to handle himself

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings/tags: established relationship, new relationship, Christian being the nervous little introvert that he is, tooth-rotting fluff

requested: no

song inspo: “Favorite T-Shirt” by Jake Scott

notes: happy fic-versary!!! Exactly one year ago today, I posted my first fic on this account so I wanted to do just a little something for it. I haven’t written for Christian in a bit but I figure it was only right to go back to my roots with a lilte fluffy piece for him to celebrate the occasion!! ☺️ This is an idea I’ve had for quite some time, so I hope I did it justice! Feedback is always appreciated!! Also, I don’t know what kind of car Christian has, but for the sake of the fic, please pretend it’s some sort of SUV

“You ready?” Christian, looked over at you, eyebrows drawn upward in anticipation of your answer. He leaned slightly into the center console of his car, leaning closer to you as a grin of child-like glee washes over his features. The little crinkles by his eyes made your heart flutter in your chest.

You only nodded in return, lips pursed as you tried (in vain) to hold back your smile. You rested your hand on the handle of the car door, watching as Christian did the same, not breaking eye contact with you as he did so.

“Three…” he began counting, and your heart leapt at the silliness of it all.

“Two..” he continued, and you wiggled in your seat as you prepared yourself to jump out of the car.

“One! Make a run for it!” he shouted, flinging the car door open and leaping from his seat. You followed suit, stepping out into the torrential downpour of rain. It was the kind of rain that made it difficult to see anything more than 20 feet in front of you, and you felt the fabric of your shirt become soaked immediately as the raindrops hit it.

You giggled at the fact that, rather than sprinting to the front door to preserve his own clothes, Christian was waiting for you as you rounded the front of the car, his hand outstretched for you to take. You quickly did so, and the two of you ran up the winding sidewalk toward the front door of his home.

However, you hadn’t accounted for the rain-slicked concrete, and as the two of you rounded the sharp corner, your shoe slid, losing traction and sent you flying to the ground. Thankfully, your momentum carried you into the grass, your landing soft as you hit the ground.

A hearty laugh broke from your lips, the kind that shook your whole body. You only found humor in the fall, no longer able to hold in the glee that seemed to be filling up your entire body after the perfect day you’d had.

Though Christian’s mind had filled with worry as soon as he felt your hand slip from his, he was relieved as he saw you laughing from your spot in the grass.

Ever the sensible one, Christian slipped your phone from your pocket (since you had decided to leave everything else in the car to save it from the rain) and tossed it, along with his phone, wallet, and keys under the shelter of the front porch and ran back out to help you to your feet.

When you had calmed your laughter, you opened your eyes, looking above you to see Christian standing over your body. He had a foot on either side of you as he stared down at you incredulously, an amused smile on his face. He held his hand out for you to take, helping you to your feet.

As you stood before him, Christian pulls your hands, that were still in his, up and over his shoulders so that you would wrap them around his neck. He dropped his arms to wrap them around your waist, pulling your body fully into his as the rain continued to pour around you.

The two of you couldn’t stop smiling as you just stood there, soaked, a bit cold, and taking each other in. You admired his features, and he only seemed more beautiful with the raindrops falling down his cheeks. You reached a hand up to the top of his head, running your fingers through his curls that had grown more prominent as the rain wetted them.

You couldn’t help yourself from cradling his jaw in both of your hands, pulling his face toward you as you connected your lips in a gentle kiss, feeling the cold raindrops splashing on your cheeks as you pressed yourself even closer to him.

Kissing him felt like a breath of fresh air.

The kiss was only broken a shiver ran its way up your spine, the cold rain chilling your bones.

Christian grinned down at you. “Come on,” he spoke, kissing both of your cheeks, your nose, and then your forehead before grabbing your hand. “Let’s get inside.”

The two of you ran to his front door, seeking the warmth of the indoors, and you stumbled quickly to his bathroom. You pulled two towels out of a cabinet, handing one to him as you both attempted to soak up some of the water that had seeped into your clothes.

As you were attempting to squeeze the water out of your hair, Christian mumbled something about getting a change of clothes and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

The day had been nothing short of perfect. Christian had let you know the week prior that he had a day off and wanted to take you on a picnic— nothing extravagant, just the two of you, in a scenic area he had discovered not long after moving to Milan, spending time together and getting to catch up. Your relationship with him was fairly new, and Christian jumped at every opportunity he had to just spend some quiet time with you, talking and getting to know you better.

The whole plan had been perfect— that is, until it started sprinkling when you were about 15 minutes from your destination. Christian sighed, swearing up and down that he had double- and triple-checked the forecast for rain. Your reassurance to him that it would probably pass quickly proved to be false when, as Christian parked the car, the rain had only increased in its intensity.

Christian’s sigh of disappointment was unmistakable— his shoulders were slumped as he mumbled an apology for “driving you all the way out here for nothing” and he reached his hand up to the gear shift to drive away.

But you had stopped him with a hand on his bicep, instead crawling over the seats into his trunk. The sound of the rain grew significantly louder when you pulled the handle and opened the door to the trunk, gesturing for Christian to join you as you laid out the blankets that he had packed for the two of you

The next few hours were spent feeding each other bits of the food he had packed, talking about everything from your family, to his transfer over the summer and how he was adjusting, to the ideas you had recently had for new decorations in your apartment. The sound of rain and occasional thunder accompanied your conversation in the background the entire time. It was truly the perfect afternoon with him.

It all left a funny feeling of warmth in your chest, despite the cold, wet clothes you were peeling off of your body now. When you had stripped down to only your underwear, you heard a knock on the door of the bathroom.

You opened it, peeking around the side of the door so that your half-naked body was still shielded from sight, and found Christian standing there in only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He had clearly run the towel through his hair, the ends sticking up on various directions. Your tummy couldn’t help but flutter at the sight of him.

He held his hands up to you, holding a neatly folded stack of clothes and quietly muttered “these are for you.”

You took them from him, noting the plaid fabric resting on top of the stack.

“I didn’t have anything else, so I figured you could wear a pair of my boxers until your clothes are dry.”

You felt the heat rise to your face, knowing your cheeks sported the same pink blush that Christian’s currently did.

“Thank you.”

“Um, you can just.. toss your clothes in the washer with mine if you want. I’ll be down in the kitchen.”

With a nod, you retreated back into the bathroom, heart fluttering at how nervous you clearly made him.

You peeled the rest of your clothes from your body, replacing them with the items Christian had left for you. The fabric smelled faintly of him, and you had lost yourself for a moment, with the t-shirt bunched up in your hands, pressed to your nose, as you inhaled the intoxicating scent. It smelled like home.

Minutes later, after tossing your rain-drenched clothes in the washer and starting the load, you found yourself wandering down the hallways of Christian’s home, admiring the picture of his friends and family that lined the walls as you passed.

When you finally entered the kitchen, you found Christian leaning with his back against the countertop, staring at something on his phone screen. He had put on a t-shirt as well, you noticed, and couldn’t help self-indulgently thinking that you would have liked it much better if he hadn’t.

He perked up, looking at you when he heard your soft footsteps entering the room and you watched as he went slightly slack-jawed at the sight of you.

In his mind, his thoughts were running wild. This was the first time Christian had ever seen you in his clothes, and he already knew he’d jump at the opportunity to have you wear them more often in the future. His tummy did a little flip at the sight of the waistband of his sweatpants that you had rolled up a few times so they wouldn’t cover your feet.

He decided in that moment that the one you were wearing would forever be his favorite t-shirt.

He did his best to pull himself together, but he knew immediately by the slight smirk on your face that you had clocked onto his reaction.

“I-I was, uh… I was thinking we could order food or something while we wait for our clothes to dry, and then I can take you home if you want,” he did his best to speak casually, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes kept scanning your body wearing his clothes.

He wasn’t sure what it was, whether it was some weird possessive side of him that was causing him to react this way, but he knew then and there was the most beautiful you had ever looked.

You just hummed a soft, “okay,” as you walked toward him, taking the phone from his hands and placing it on the counter before you tucked yourself under his chin. As he wrapped his arms around your torso, you titled your chin up, placing the softest of kisses at the base of his neck, and Christian prayed that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

“O-Or if you don’t want me to take you home tonight, you’re welcome to stay here, too,” he added, speaking a bit hurriedly, because he didn’t want you to feel like he was kicking you out, either.

“Okay,” you repeated softly.

Okay you’ll stay, or okay you want me to take you home?

Christian couldn’t get his mind or his heart to settle as he overthought every little thing. Your relationship being fairly new, this was the most intimate and domestic scenario the two of you had found yourselves in so far, and he was terrified of overdoing it. Yet he had asked you to spend the night at his (for the first time ever) before he could even think twice about it.

You could practically feel the way his thoughts were running wild from the stiffness in his arms as he held you. So you did what Christian so often did for you when you were stressed.

You noticed weeks ago that, though Christian wasn’t huge on PDA, in the little private moments, he showed affection through touch a lot. Frequently, when you would express to him that you were nervous or stressed, he would seek out some form of skin-to-skin contact to help settle you—often it took the form of him slipping his hand under the hem of your shirt to trace small shapes and patters on the skin of your back.

So, as you felt his racing heart beneath your cheek, you slipped your fingers under his shirt, flattening your palms over his stomach, feeling the ridges of his muscles beneath your hands. Christian’s breath caught in his throat as you did this, causing his chest and stomach to shiver with the shaky breath.

Try as you might, you couldn’t hide the small giggle that escaped your lips, finding Christian’s nervousness incredibly endearing.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, pressing another short kiss to his jaw to show him you were just playing.

That small gesture (along with your touch under his shirt) did wonders to settle his heart.

He had nothing to worry about, he knew that. It was just you and him, and nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.

He was only able to respond with a smile, tightening his arms around you a little more, keeping you pressed as close as possible. He repeated his actions from your embrace in the rain, kissing each cheek, your nose, and then your forehead before he dropped his head down to press his nose into yours.

You let out a soft hum as he gently brushed his lips over yours, leaving you longing for more. Unsatisfied with the barely-there touch, you kissed him firmly, holding his face to yours by the back of his neck, tugging lightly at the short hairs on his nape.

The kiss was broken by both of you grinning wide, unable to contain the joy you felt that seemed to be spilling over.

“I love you,” you whispered. It wasn’t the first time you had said it, but it still made Christian’s tummy flip all the same.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, just as softly.

And despite the rain that had seemingly ruined his plans for your date, Christian felt that the day couldn’t have been more perfect.

It was perfect because he had spent it with you. And that alone was enough.

“So, what was that you were saying about ordering food?” you broke the brief silence, and Christian couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

That’s my girl.

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @captainpulisic

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fics #footballer fic #footballer imagine #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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hellfirenacht · 2 months

Text

Water Balloons

Summary: You’ve been dating Eddie for a few months, but never talked about the future.

Tags: Eddie x Reader, sfw, fluff, neither reader or eddie want kids, mentions of breeding kink but it’s Reader being a little shit, NO ACTUAL KINKS INDULGED IN, no use of y/n, fem!reader

Notes: I have nothing against breeding kinks or parent!Eddie fics. But this is for anyone who does NOT enjoy those specific things.

Bassed off of this post by @deathbecomesthem

You and Eddie laid on the roof of his van, a blanket under you both as you stared up at the sky. The two of you had been watching the late summer sun slowly disappear over the horizon in shades of fiery reds and oranges. Now the two of you stared at the stars above, creating new constellations as your fingers intertwined.

This had been the best summer of your life. Eddie had asked you out the second he ran off the stage in his graduation gown, diploma in hand. You had barely said yes before slamming your lips against his. He’d been waiting two years to ask you out, not wanting you to have to explain to people that you were in your early 20s and dating a high schooler.

Summer days were stretched with Eddie visiting you at work, day long games of dungeons and dragons, hanging out at the pool, and driving around with music blasting. Nights had been endless memories of the Hideout, watching him play, sneaking into his trailer when Wayne was at work, and long conversations that would only end when the sun came up.

You didn’t think it could be better than this, which is why you had been putting off this conversation for so long.

Eddie was talking about how he’d snuck into the High School to play Dustin’s latest one-shot. Without Eddie as the DM, the other members had been taking turns running different smaller campaigns.

“The kid has imagination.” Eddie said, his hand giving yours a squeeze. You could feel the clunky rings on his fingers digging into your skin but you had grown used to the feeling by now. “He always threw me off when I was in charge but he’s on a whole other level as the DM.”

“Did anyone catch you sneaking in or out?” you asked, looking at the small sliver of moon above.

“Not a soul.” he looked over at you and grinned. “Besides, what would they do? Expel me?”

“Arrest you for trespassing.” you nudged him with your own grin. “Remember, I don’t have bail money.”

“I’d break out.” Eddie said. “Get myself a spoon and start digging.”

You giggled and ran your thumb over the back of his hand. You’d always had a thing for his hands before, but after dating they were one of your favorite parts about him. His fingertips were rough and calloused from playing guitar, but the rest of his hand was smooth and soft from the lotion you’d always put on him when you applied it to yourself. He used to pretend he hated it, but now he always offered his hands whenever you pulled out your lotion.

“I ran into Cass Finnigan earlier.” you said, trying to keep your tone casual, as if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest. Things were going so good, why ruin it?

“Cass?” Eddie sounded surprised. “Huh, I haven’t seen her since she graduated."

“She’s pregnant. Probably about three months.” you said, your voice going a little quiet. The pause between the two of you was closer to term than Cass.

“Yeah?” You could hear a strain in Eddie’s voice that you wish you knew what it meant. Was that stress? Yearning? Gas? Most times Eddie wore his emotions on his sleeve but your own anxiety was clouding your reading of him.

“Yeah.” you echoed. “Surprised me, considering how young we are.”

“Too young.” Eddie said, and you felt him shift next to you.

“Way too young.”

The silence between you stretched miles, each of you trapped deep inside of your minds as you thought about a former classmate's pregnancy.

You decided to rip the bandaid off.

“I don’t want kids.” You said, staring harder at the sky. You held your breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. Kids had never been something that appealed to you, not in a million years. The idea of children, pregnancy, parenthood, none of it sounded rewarding or exciting. It only filled you with dread and anxiety.

You’d lost boyfriends over it, partners that you had really liked. They all said the same thing. That you were still young, still in school, of course you didn’t want kids now. You’d change your mind.

You never did though.

As you held your breath, Eddie deflated next to you. Shit, this was going to end the same. He was going to repeat those same tired lines and you’d have to break this off.

Then Eddie started laughing.

“Oh thank Christ.” he said, rubbing his face. “I was terrified you were dropping a hint that you wanted to start a family.”

“What? Oh no- Eddie. Eddie, no.” you shook your head quickly, the tension in your body starting to ease up a little. “But I mean it, Eddie. I don’t want kids. Ever. Like, ever ever. I don’t want pregnancy, I don’t want to adopt... I don’t want to be a parent.”

“Me either.” Those two words could have knocked the wind out of you.

You sat up and looked down at him. Eddie looked so pretty with his long hair splayed on on the blanket and brown eyes that reflected the stars that you had just been looking at.

“Do you mean that?” you asked firmly. “Because I mean it.”

Eddie sat up and faced you, not letting go of your hand. “I’m not dad material.” he said. “I never have been, and I never will be. Being a parent scares the shit out of me. I wouldn’t even know what to do with a kid even if I had one.”

“I think you need to feed it sometimes.” you gave him a smile. “Take it for walks twice a day and teach it not to poop on the floor.”

Eddie laughed, and pushed you down so that he was on top of you. “No, that’s me you’re thinking of.” he joked. Moving his legs on either side of your hips.

“Oh, I hope you’re housebroken, Munson.” you laughed. “Otherwise I want a refund.”

“Sorry, I don’t do returns. You know this.” he kissed your cheek.

“You’re so fucking weird.” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I believe the word you're looking for is freak, sweetheart.”

Your fingers ran through his hair and he closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face. “You’re really okay with that?” you asked. “I know we’ve only been dating a few months, but I don’t- I’m not just dating you to date you. I want this to be real. If you want kids, we can stop this whole thing and-”

Eddie didn’t let you finish, cutting you off with a kiss. “No returns.” he said firmly before kissing you again. “I don’t want kids.” Kiss. “You don’t want kids.” Kiss.

You couldn’t resist messing with him, and looked up at him with a grin that Eddie learned quickly meant trouble.

“Oh but Daddy, don’t you wanna knock me up?” you said, batting your eyelashes. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless as he looked at you like you’d eaten a bug. He tried to get off you but you grabbed him and pulled him back. “Come on, Eds, let’s make Granny Eckard right and get some Munson Jr. Jrs running around!”

“Absolutely not, oh no. Get off me, woman!” Eddie struggled to pry you off, but you just held him tighter.

“Don’t you wanna... uh....be my Daddy and also be the father of my children?” you laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I think my poor dick just went into early retirement.” Eddie said dramatically. “I may never get it up again because of this conversation. And what will you do then, hm?”

“You have fingers and a tongue still.” you wiggled your eyebrows. “And I have plenty of toys if those go limp, too- MMFFF...!”

Eddie had covered your mouth with his hand, and despite how pale he had gone for a second he was now laughing hard. “Stop talking. You’ve abused your talking privileges for the night.” Eddie looked down at you. “I’m gonna let go, and you’re gonna stop making it weird. Can you do that?”

You nodded, still shaking with your laughter. It was tempting to keep going, but you wanted to check just one more time.

His hand pulled off your mouth and you both sat up again, your giggles echoing in the small park that you were in.

“I mean it.” Eddie said, taking your hand again. “I don’t want kids either. I could live the rest of my life with just you and I’d be happy.”

Your heart jumped up in your throat. “The rest of your life...?”

Eddie realized what he said quickly. “I mean, you and I have been friends for years and I know that the whole dating thing is new for us but... yeah. I know I’m not exactly Mr. Romantic, but...”

That was enough for you, and you took his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “So... kids no, but open to marriage?”

“Not right now.” he said. “Later.”

“Aww, am I not enough for a whirlwind, runaway marriage?” you smiled. “Not gonna drive me to the courthouse right now and make an honest woman out of me?”

“Considering how your specialty was always a bluff check, I doubt anyone could make an honest woman out of you.” Eddie snorted.

“I guess you’re worth the wait.” your leaned closer to him. “You were always worth the wait.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.” Eddie said, cupping your cheek and kissing you softly. “You know... since we’ve agreed that kids are off the table, I do have a half used box of condoms in the back of the van that could be used right now.”

“Oh, and what happened the the other half of the box?” you smirked, knowing full well what happened.

“Well, you see sweetheart, a few weeks ago we decided to have a water balloon fight but we ran out of balloons so me and Jeff had this idea-”

“Eddie no!” you laughed, smacking his arm. “Seriously? Where was I during all this?”

“You abandoned me.”

“I was at work wasn’t I? Remind me to quit tomorrow.”

Eddie pulled you in closer “Well that’s only where a few of them went. The rest went to this really hot chick who somehow decided to take a chance on the biggest freak in Hawkins.”

“Lucky her.” you said, pecking his lips. “So... wanna show me these makeshift water balloons? For science, of course.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Eddie said with a smile.

Eddie helped you down from off the top of his van, and you just knew that this was it. No matter what happened after tonight, you knew that you both were in it for the long haul. No need to change or force things just because of what everyone said you should do. From then on, it would be just you and Eddie, and that would be enough.

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader

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crystlizabeth · 1 year

Note

I love your stories!! And I was wondering if you would do some George Weasley x Reader where the reader is good friends with Ron ( same age as him, so like 2 years younger than George ) but has always had a crush on George. then while staying at the burrow for the holidays there is all this sexual tension and one night they kinda stumble across each other ( like while up for a glass of water or something ) and FINALLY have sex.

Yeah! I haven’t written form him before so i hope this is good!

Best friends brother..

Paring: George Weasley x POCfem!reader

Warnings: smut, cursing, reader is 18+ oral(f receiving) (p in v)

The Weasley house was quiet as everyone slept, as for you, you couldn’t. You spent the last 20 minutes tossing and turning on the couch you couldn’t stay still nor clear your mind of your best friends brother, George to be exact. You knew Ron would have your head if you ever mentioned having a crush on his older brother.

But with coming over during the holidays you where bound to see him. Tension was building, how his eyes looked you up and down scanning you so shamelessly, the way his hand would ‘accidentally’ brush you wither it be your thigh when you sat next to him at the table, or the small of your back as he passed you. You could explode especially after to day. When you two stood alone in the kitchen helping make cookies, small talk going between each of you just the way he looking at you, how close his face was to yours. There was no fucking way he didn’t have a slight crush on you, his little brother’s best friend.

You snapped back after hearing foot steps come down the stairs you quickly move to your side closing your eyes pretending to be asleep. You could feel a presence lean over you then a hand touching your face creasing it lightly as of an intention not to disturb your ‘sleeping’ body.

“You’re so beautiful..” you heard Georges voices say, it soft and gentle as he looked down at you.

You could feel your face heat up at the complement “is the so..?” You said shyly.

His hand quickly moved from your face back to himself in a panic “oh- you’re awake, sorry! I didnt mean to wake you up!” His voice was panicked.

You turned your body looking at him, laughing at him. “Sorry i didnt mean to scare you.” You spoke sitting up.

“So you think I’m cute aye.” You smiled slightly tilting your head, looking at the red head that stood behind the couch.

He let out a ‘pff’ shoving his hand in his pockets, “yeah, yeah i do.” He said attempting to sound confident. A smile grew on your face watching him all embarrassed.

“Do you need some water I- I need some water.” He stumbled over his words pointing to the kitchen.

“You’re blushing a school girl, what happened to all the confidence from earlier getting all closed to me face like you where gonna kiss me but instead pulled away with a fat smirk as i stood there like an idiot.” You said teasing him as you got up walking to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything but he did fill up a cup with water turning to you as he took a slow drink of his water.

“Yeah, and?” He said plainly setting the cup down, his body leaned up against the counter.

The shirt he wore was a little small so it sat above is v line his pajama pants low on his waist. “Your eyes are wondering sweetheart..” your eyes shot back up to him seeing the smirk on his face.

“Common if you want me just say it.” He said, his cocky tone making you scoff.

He pushed himself off the counter walking towards you, you walked back finding yourself pinned against the counter. “Common baby use your words… i wanna hear you.” His voice was low and seductive.

“George..” you began, you watched his head tilt as he waited for you.

“kiss me, please kiss me.” You spoke, you couldn’t believe how fast all this had happen. How fast you folded.

His lips connect with yours the kiss started soft and tamed, his hand wrapped around you his hands gripping your hips. A soft moan left your lips enjoying the moment, letting your hands over his shoulders going into his red hair.

His hands went down cupping your ass putting you on the counter. Georges lips disconnected from yours. He tilted your head up kissing your neck, his rosey lips kissed up and down finally finding the spot that made you squirm.

“George, oh merlin..” you moaned the heat between your legs building up yearning for contact.

“Dont be to loud you don’t want everyone hearing you now do we?” He said his hands wandering to the top of your shorts. “Is this okay?” He asked your permission to take your shorts off.

“Yes.” In one smooth motion he slipped the shorts off your body as you sat on the counter feeling the cool air hit your heat.

“No panties?” He smiled shamelessly. His fingers trailed up your thigh, you opened your legs to him more his long fingers faintly trailed up your heat coating his fingers in your slick.

“Fuck.. your so wet…” he spoke making eye contact with you as he stuck his fingers in his mouth tasting you on his tongue. You watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment the taste of you making him moan.

You watched as he lowered his head between your legs, his warm tongue sliding up between your folds a blissful moan escaping your mouth. Georges hands came up grabbing your tights pulling you in closer as he devoured you. One of his hands came up to your clit rubbing circles, his tongue moved in an erotic manner bring you closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck, just like that.” You moaned out, your hand slapped over you mouth to keep your pleads more quiet. The not in your stomach building up, your thighs presses themselves together not able to touch for the red head between your legs. “George..fuck im gonna cum” you warned your body jolting slightly having the wave of pleasure as he ate you to the end if your high.

He stood up straight leaning over your body that laid on to the counter. “You tase to good..” he said quietly licking is lips.

You cover your face at his words how four words rolled off his tongue so lewdly. “Common baby let ne see your face.” His hands wrapping around your wrist pulling them off your face, a teasing smile appearing on his face as he saw the state you where in.

“Hello beautiful its good to see your face again, not that i didn’t enjoy the view of earlier.” He chuckled, you smacked his chest only for him to let out a laugh.

“Stop. Oh my god.” You spoke to him a slight laugh could be heard from your tone.

“You loved every second of it..” he said his lips brushing over yours.

“Mmhm, i did.” You finished pulling him down to kiss you.

“I want you.” You said between kisses. You could feel his hard on rub against you as you made out.

“Please let me have you..” you begged moving your hips to make some sort of friction between you both.

He moved away pushing you back on the counter as he pulled his pants down a little bit taking himself out he lined himself up with you, he looked up at to to make sure you where okay with this just to check. You gave him a nod, in one swift motion he slid in to you. A soft whimper leaving his lips ad he felt your walls adjust around him.

He started to move the pleasure running over you made your head fall back a hushed moan coming from your lips as you felt his hips hit yours making sure he filled every inch of you. His hands gently began to massage your breast taking your nub into its mouth his wet tongue swirling around your harden nip. He continued to abuse your flesh leaving light hickeys on your darker complexion.

The kitchen was filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping and soft moans and whimpers. George could feel himself coming to his end he moved up looking at your face as he fucked you. He watched how your mouth was slightly gaped your eyes squeeze shut. “Hey look at me, i wanna see you pretty little eyes as i make you cum again.”

You opened your eyes meeting his brown ones, his red hair falling in to his face. You felt that familiar not build up again but faster this time as he hit the right spot over and over. He sat up pushing your legs open giving him more access, he looked down watching himself as he fucked you. “Common sweet girl cum for me.” His voice was smooth.

Your hands gripped his forearms feeling yourself come undone. “Good girl just like that..” the praise left his lips as he thrusted a few more times carrying your through your orgasm. He pulled out letting his seed spill on your stomach a quiet moan of your name left his lips as the ropes of cum laced your stomach.

Heavy breathing came between you as you sat up he cleaned himself up as he got a wash rag to wipe himself off your stomach. “Sorry if its cold.” He apologized before wiping the cum of you. You two stood there quietly cleaning up yourselves the sound of a door opening putting you both in a panic as he threw your shorts at you your hurriedly put them on almost falling in the process.

You turned around to see Ron, he didn’t say anything just looked his tired eyes squinting as George leaned against the sink taking a drink if water. A quite scoff came from the younger red head he wasn’t awake enough to question anything and just walked back up the stairs.

“He’s gonna say something at breakfast whats the excuse?” You asked

“I just fucked you on The counter.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I will break that water glass over your head.”

“I was just kidding,” he laughed “i came down to get water and woke you up on accident so we started talking.” He said a smile on his face.

You nodded, you didn’t know how you would explain this whole situation to Ron or if you even wanted to it all depends what happens after tonight. George walked over to you “i would invite you to come up to my bed but don’t want to get caught, so good night..” he said quietly giving you a kiss on your cheek then your lips his hand dragged along the small of your back as he walked towards the stairs.

“Sleep well.” Was the last thing he said before returning to his room.

How the fuck where you supposed to sleep after that. .

#george weasley #george weasely smut #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #ron weasley #george weasly x reader #weasley twins #weasly twins #fred and goerge weasley #harry potter fandom #poc!reader #black reader #fem reader #x reader

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f1daydreamers · 1 year

Text

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 [𝐋𝐒𝟏𝟖]

photo credits: Pinterest

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Fem!Reader

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you’ve had ever.. but also one of the best.

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers romance also fake dating trope so we’re going all in baby

A/N: I love this man, this man is very underrated and this is going to be a mini-series, probably 7/8 parts but we’ll see how it goes

Word Count: 1.7k (7 minutes reading time avg)

…

Lance oddly glances over your face, definitely dumbfounded by your ask.

Trying to persuade one of the two drivers for the team that you work for, that going as your pretend date to your brother’s wedding was quite possibly the weirdest favour you could ask of anyone.

You tilt your head, reasoning with him. “Whatever you need, I will do it and I’ll do it to the best of my ability.”

He hums, “I don’t need anything.”

You inhale through your nose, “I’ll wash your race suit and even bring it to the remaining.. 20 races."

With pursed lips, he appears untempted by your proposal.

“Okay, then I’ll do all your laundry, not just your race suit.” You say.

“There’re people in the team who do that anyway?” You sigh, leaning your elbows on the table.

“I’ll clean your driver’s room, after every practice session, after every qualifying, and after every race.”

He feigns offence, “my room is very neat for your information.”

You scoff, not wanting to but getting all the more closer to giving up.

“Then do this for me as a friend, you just said you had nothing to do between now and Baku anyway.” You countered, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Lance smiles slightly. “It’s a massive favour Y/N, I can’t just drop all my plans.”

You half-frowned, knowing he had a point. “Look, the moment I set my phone down, I know my mum would’ve been rounding up all the bachelors from here to Canada.”

He laughed and you smiled, though you were pretty sure your mum really was doing so.

“Have you asked anyone else?” He questioned, out of sheer curiosity on why you came to him first.

“No I haven’t, should I?”

“I don’t know.” His answer makes you groan, “one weekend Lance.”

There was a shift of emotion in his face and you jumped at the opportunity to try and make it as convincing for him as possible, “one or two photos, my dad loves racing so tell him about Bahrain. I have a nephew who’s into motorcycles so talk away about them.”

“With an 8 year old?” You blinked at him, “I admit the conversations may not be enthralling but toy motorcycles really get his gears turning.”

The F1 driver weighs out the pros and cons of your request, circling the rim of his glass with the tip of his index finger.

His eyes flicker to your pleading expression, your fingernails digging into the underside of your chin, your hands brought together in a praying gesture.

“Is a weekend with me going to be that horrible?” You inquire.

“No,” he admits, casually falling back on to his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I was never going to say no, I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

He grins cockily and you reach over to slap his arm which he manages to pull away from in time.

…

The few days after the Australian race, you'd been hammered by your parents and your siblings, on who the mystery boy was. It was pretty well known that they'd meet him at some point next weekend but that obviously wasn't reason enough for them to stop asking every question under the sun about him.

When the build to that weekend officially began, you prayed that it would pass smoothly, you'd tell a few little white lies along the way and should they ever ask about him following the wedding, you and Lance would've been peacefully broken up by then.

Easy.

"Oh gosh, here we go." You lower your head to your lap while Lance takes a single sip from his champagne glass, setting it down on the coaster.

You knew bumping into a relative who asked a million and one questions during the rehearsal would be a given so you'd prepared your 'date' as best you could.

You instinctively reach for his hand, settling the palm of yours on the back of his. He's slightly disconcerted at the contact but doesn't move an inch, he glances at you sat on the seat besides him as you do the same.

You release a shaky sigh, "my sister's going to interrogate you like she's trying to put the FBI to shame. You remember what I told you right?" You ask quietly.

He nods faintly, "yeah, of course I do." He assures you.

You muster a sincere smile before retracting your hand from his and allowing it to fall on to your lap again. You then rub your palms on your thighs and stand up to embrace her.

Lance straightened on his chair, allowing your sister to approach the table before he followed your movements. You swallow when his hand rests on your lower back, but you reminded yourself it was just a part of the act.

It was amusing in hindsight how you'd pleaded, borderline begged, for him to be your pretend boyfriend for a weekend but you hadn't actually thought about what that might necessitate.

"Hi!" Your sister was ever the bubbly one who could rave about her passions for days while remaining oblivious to the other person's lack of interest.

She flung her arms around your neck and brought you in for a hug, to which you chuckled and winded your arms around her back. Lance's hand fell to his side, his gaze falling to his feet.

Once you'd pulled away, she sighed happily then glanced at him expectantly. You cleared your throat and he swiftly turned his head towards you, then at her.

"Dais, this is Lance," you realise he probably needs no further introduction. "Lance, this is my sister, Daisy."

He gives her a genuine smile, taking her hand that she holds out as a formal introduction. "Is this the boyfriend I messaged you a million times about?"

You scoff with a smile, feeling his eyes fall to your face, as if he was watching for something. "Yep, in the flesh." He swallows, nodding.

She gasps, pointing a finger towards him and you panic for a moment, if there was a single hidden talent your sister had, it was putting two and two together at record speed.

Luckily, Lance remained unphased despite the stark contrast between yours and his tension levels.

"You're the F1 driver Dad was telling us about, the one with the broken wrists." She announced loudly, though it was only a surprise to her.

"That's my reputation I guess." He comments, turning his head to your side, directing it at you. You smile, continuing to fidget with your two intertwined hands.

But he confirms it nonetheless, "that's me."

"Wow, F1. Must be cool having the girl you date at the garage for every race." He gave her a polite smile, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

“It has its perks.” You agree with him, not vocally saying what those supposed perks were.

“What kind of perks?” Your sister asked craftily and you sigh, dismissing her question.

“Behave, now go and find Kev, we want to congratulate him.” As your baby sister, with a huff, she agreed and sauntered off elsewhere.

“She’s nice.” You hummed, turning your body to Lance’s so your back was facing the crowd of people that would occasionally glance in your direction.

“She’s one of many,” He smiled, seeing the deflation on your face form when you realised this was going to be a very long weekend of lying.

“Regretting it?” You meet his eyes, he meets yours. “No. Just wondering if it was the best decision.”

“One question less, 20 more in its place.” You chuckle knowing he was referring to the inevitable question on where your date was had you not brought one, but because you had, it was flipped on its head.. then multiplied.

“Should I apologise for bringing you here now?”

“How bad are they?” He asks.

“Enough.”

…

"I haven't seen anything about you two online, considering you're famous and all." Your words remained stuck in your throat as you scrambled to try and find an answer for it in your head, Lance chuckled a little nervously.

"We keep it on the down low, trying to navigate through a relationship while being in the spotlight has its own challenges." You looked up at him and gave him a sympathetic look, a doubtful smile on your lips.

You turned back to your mum who hummed, almost with a certain distaste in her tone, a sour look on her face which you really weren't in the mood for. She was never fond of the guys you 'picked' for yourself, but instead the male specimen she spoke to once were going to be your Prince Charming, God forbid you ever went against that.

"Look, me and Lance are a little jet-lagged so can we carry this on sometime else?" You gave her a pointed look and she took the hint, though not without shooting you a knowing glance.

"Well, your room's all ready for you at home." She says.

Home. You hadn't heard that word from your mother's lips for some time, having moved away and working everywhere in the world, it was rare you found time to go and see your family.

"Thanks mum." She kissed you on the cheek before walking away, ignoring Lance's existence entirely. Your shoulders slumped once her attention had turned towards your brother and his soon-to-be wife, whom you'd already congratulated.

He exhales through his nose and you lift your eyes up to his face, "Okay, getting slightly worse." You shake your head, your fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. At this point, you were wishing for the night to be over.

By the time the night is coming to its eventual end, you and Lance had managed to convince most people with your act of being a couple. That entailed a lot of hand-holding and lovesick smiles but you'd pulled it off, a little too well.

With his hand splayed out on your thigh, your hand was wrapped around his bicep. Along with every little gesture and movement, there was a fresh wave of goosebumps forming on your skin. You didn't think Lance knew that he was stroking his thumb along the fabric of your leggings.

"We should get some sleep," You turned your head to him and he looked down at you, his attention turning away from the current conversation your sister had everyone tuned into.

"Ready when you are." He added and minutes later, you and Lance were leaving the table, a few of your folks extending their fair shares of goodbyes and nice to meet you's to him.

...

Part 2

Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part!

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pedrointofolklore · 8 months

Text

Long story short

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: weeks had passed since your steamy kiss with joel, and you wanted more. sequel to this is me trying.

warnings: smut 18+ mdni, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, joel miller has a big dick, emotional sex, brief mention of sex as currency (as part of reader’s backstory), allusions to depression and suicidal ideation, lots of fluff with a bit of angst, enemies to lovers (they’re in their lover era), extremely soft joel, joel is so disastrously in love, self-loathing due to a guilty conscience, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, ellie era (ellie is only mentioned)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: hey y’all. so part one did way better than i ever expected. thank you to everyone who has supported it. if you haven’t read it i highly recommend you do before reading this. if you have read it: enjoy part two! the title is once again a taylor swift song.

It had been weeks since you kissed Joel.

Neither of you acknowledged it. After the shitstorm that was Kansas City, your focus was making it to Wyoming on foot. Addressing one kiss wasn’t high on the list of priorities.

But you still thought about it. A lot. And it seemed like Joel did too.

Joel Miller wasn’t nice as a rule, but he was good to you. He confided in you, asked for your input, and did what he could to make you feel like your presence was important. Whether or not it was actually important, you just appreciated that he was trying.

And you were trying too. You were doing your best to be present, focus on the positives, and take a breath before sprinting headfirst into danger. Just as Tess would have done.

You couldn’t have predicted that Ellie would end up inspiring you. There was something about her that reminded you of yourself (which was ultimately cause for concern), but she was different in the ways that mattered most. She was funny and resilient and excited about things, even in this vile world she was living in.

You wanted to be more like her.

There was an abandoned, isolated cabin somewhere between Kansas City and Kearney—you weren’t sure exactly where at this point. It was a corroded, rotting structure, with shattered windows and wooden panels threatening to collapse, but it was better than sleeping outside in the middle of nowhere.

There were two beds and a couch inside. Ellie passed out almost immediately after calling dibs on the bed upstairs. The poor girl was exhausted. Meanwhile, Joel laid down on the couch and shut his eyes, pretending to go to sleep. This was clearly an act; he wasn't going to sleep, he was going to keep watch.

You hadn’t slept in a bed since the QZ, and though this bed was old and musty and probably infested with microscopic bed bugs, it somehow felt like the most comfortable thing in the world. This was the first time in so long it didn’t feel like you were in a rush. You could just exist and let your mind wander.

Letting your mind wander was something you typically avoided, but instead of your thoughts leading you down a trail of despondency, they led you to Joel. You pictured him sitting upright on the couch, scanning the area through fractured windows, clutching a shotgun and trying to stay awake. You wondered what he was thinking about.

If you still want it later, you can have it.

That was what he’d said to you. It was such a new feeling; wanting Joel, wanting anything. You thought about the kiss again, and a warm, tingly sensation spread throughout your entire body like ink seeping into wet paper.

It was later, and you still wanted it.

Joel was awake.

This wasn’t new. Joel hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in 20 years, but it had gotten worse lately.

He’d failed everyone in Kansas City, but most of all Ellie. It left him in a constant state of unease, just waiting for something else to go wrong. Even sleeping stressed him out now.

Then, there was you.

As everything around him gradually fell into shambles, it felt like he needed you more everyday. You were good and clever and really the only person in the world who made Joel feel like he could do this, and that terrified him. You were trying so hard, but he still had this paralysing fear of losing you.

Joel hadn’t forgotten what happened, and he hadn’t forgotten what he said.

If you still want it later, you can have it.

He wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was referring to. Was it that he’d fuck you if you asked? He would, but he didn't think that was really what he meant.

He also wasn’t sure if you wanted it. Maybe the kiss had been just a random moment of weakness for you. Maybe you woke up the next morning and realised that Joel was the last person in the world you could ever want. The thought gnawed at him; infected him like some faceless monstrosity with razor-sharp teeth.

But if by some chance you wanted it—wanted him—he would give you everything he had. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, and certainly not your admiration, but you deserved to get whatever you wanted out of him. He would let you come to him, and he would do anything you asked if it meant keeping you here.

The sound of your door clicking open jerked Joel from his anxious ruminating. His eyes followed you as you sauntered over to the couch and plonked yourself down next to him, crossing your legs with an air of forced nonchalance.

“What are you doing up?” Joel asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said. “You’re also up.”

“Just keepin’ watch.”

“We’re indoors in the middle of nowhere, Joel,” you replied. “I think you can sleep for a bit.”

Joel didn’t say anything. He couldn’t get into this with you. He didn’t want to ruin the newfound trust you had in him by letting you know what a mess he was.

“Unless there’s something else keeping you up,” you spoke in a nervous whisper, like you were testing the waters to see if Joel would actually entertain this conversation.

Of course he would. There were things Joel didn’t want to talk about—anything that had ever happened to him, for example—but the only thing stronger than his propensity to never let anyone in was the urge he had to never deny you.

“Just been worried about you, I guess.”

Your mouth formed a constrained smile. It didn’t quite reach your eyes. “We talked about this. I’m fine now, Joel.”

“One talk can’t solve everything.” Or one kiss, for that matter.

“I’m not asking you to solve anything,” you replied, your tone becoming heightened. “Worry about the important things, like Ellie and finding your brother and—"

“You are important.”

He felt a rush of anger, but not at you. Never at you. He was angry at himself. Of course you felt unimportant when he’d spent so long making you feel that way. It wasn’t fair that he got to wake up one day and decide to stop being an asshole while you still had to live with the consequences of his assholery.

You sat there not saying anything, and Joel was certain that you were about to walk away from this conversation. The irony wasn’t lost on him; for two people who hated heartfelt discussions, you couldn’t seem to stop finding yourselves in the middle of them.

“Joel…” Your voice came out breathy and desperate. It was completely unexpected. He couldn’t describe the feeling of hearing you say his name like that. All he knew was that he wanted to fall to his knees at your feet.

“What do you need?” Joel asked. He hoped that he already knew the answer.

“I need you.”

He let out a shaky exhale—relieved and nervous all at once. “You have me, sweetheart. You know that."

Being naked on a grotty mattress with a fully-clothed man above you should have been horrifically vulnerable, but you couldn’t muster up any uncertainty with Joel. All you felt was an excited kind of anticipation.

You never expected Joel to be so affectionate, but he held you like you were something worth caring for. He took his time, kissing you slow and undressing you bit by bit until you were bare for him. You felt the same heated intensity you had that night in the woods, but without the crushing sense of urgency.

Your breath hitched when Joel trailed kisses from your chest down past your navel. He stopped at the lowest part of your belly, looking up at you with lustful, imploring eyes. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

“Please…” You already sounded embarrassingly wrecked.

Your body jolted when Joel dragged a finger through your soaked slit, gathering up the obscene amount of wetness that was dripping out of you and spreading it over your aching clit.

Then, without a word, he pushed himself up and off the bed. You looked at him in dismay, about to berate him for teasing, but your voice caught in your throat when he crouched down at the end of the bed and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you forward until your ass was lined up with the edge of the mattress, and your legs were thrown over his shoulders.

The sound that escaped you when Joel sucked your clit into his mouth was borderline feral. You didn’t know you were capable of making a noise like that—something between a pathetic gasp and a wanton moan.

“Oh f—Joel! Feels so good. What the fuck.” You were breathless and shaking and grabbing a fistful of his hair.

“Ssh, sweetheart,” Joel hushed. You clenched around nothing when his warm breath hit your drenched core. “Need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He didn’t even wait for you to try and compose yourself before devouring you again. He had a lot of audacity to think he could tell you to be quiet as he tongue-fucked you senseless. And then, like he was trying to get you to scream, he prodded a finger at your entrance and slipped it inside.

“That feel good?” Joel asked, curling his finger as he pumped it into you.

You whined and pulled his hair harder. He let out a low groan and continued flicking his tongue over your clit, and it dawned on you that he wasn’t just doing this to make you feel good—he was doing it because he liked it.

He added another finger, and this time you did scream, but not before clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. It was too much now. His mouth and fingers were unrelenting, as if worshipping your cunt was his only purpose on this earth.

“Joel—F-fuck—I think I’m gonna come.”

“You can come, baby. I got you.”

Those three words were all you needed. You came hard, sobbing and writhing and crushing Joel’s head between your thighs as you tried to clamp them shut. He could not have given less of a fuck—he continued his onslaught between your legs until you were twitching with overstimulation and pulling him off by his hair.

You threw an arm over your eyes, trying to catch your breath and recover from that earth-shattering orgasm. You heard the faint clink of a belt, followed by the soft sounds of fabric hitting the floor. You opened your eyes when the mattress dipped, revealing a very naked Joel Miller.

This took you by surprise more than anything else. You never thought that Joel would take his clothes off for you, and you wouldn’t have asked him to—he’d done it of his own volition. He wanted to bare himself to you like you had to him.

Plus, he was hot. You would have been attracted to him no matter what, but he was so undeniably sexy. His arms looked like they were carved from marble. He was broad and strong, but still had a wonderfully human softness about him. And his cock. Your mouth salivated at the sight. It was thick and long and beautiful. You wanted to drag your tongue along the vein that ran down his shaft and taste the leaking precum at the tip.

“You done starin’?” Joel asked, blushing at the way you were blatantly ogling him.

You giggled and climbed into his lap, your knees settling on either side of his hips. “Stop being so pretty if you don’t want me to stare.”

Joel let out a genuine, light-hearted laugh—something you’d only witnessed him do a handful of times. You wanted to bottle the sound and keep it forever. “I’m pretty, am I?”

“So pretty.” You leaned forward and kissed him, painfully aware of his hard cock pressed against your inner thigh.

You reached down and wrapped a hand around his length, teasing the slit with your thumb and spreading the dribbling fluid. You pumped him a few times, noticing the way his belly tightened as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so good, sweetheart," he spoke with a low, sultry tone, "but I really need to fuck you now.”

Joel had you pinned under him in a second, hiking your legs up around his hips while his cock bumped your entrance.

“Ready?” Joel asked.

You nodded eagerly and repeated what you told him earlier, “I need you.”

Joel lined the head of his cock up with your wet heat, stroking it through your folds and teasing your sensitive clit. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your lips as he finally pushed into you.

The stretch stung even with how wet you were. You dug your nails into his back and tried not to wince, all while Joel planted comforting kisses around your face.

“It’ll feel good in a second, baby,” he whispered against your cheek. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you assured him. “Don’t stop.”

He paused when he was buried to the hilt, giving you a moment to adjust. You weren’t completely inexperienced, but the sheer size of Joel was a lot to take.

But it wasn't long before the sting started to morph into pleasure. You felt keyed up and desperate and so incredibly full. “You can move now.”

His hands settled on your thighs as he pulled his cock out and slowly pushed it back in. Your walls fluttered around him, spurring him on. He did it again, this time plunging it harder and faster.

You gasped at the feeling, gushing around his cock and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. He set a steady, delicious pace, pounding into you the way you hadn't even known you'd been craving.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Shit. So good. So fuckin' perfect.”

You moaned at his slurry of praise, angling your hips up so he reached even deeper. You ran a hand over his back and down to his plush ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Joel chuckled fondly and traced affectionate nibbles along your jaw.

It hit you all at once that you had never been this happy before. Having Joel in your arms, buried inside you, giving you everything he could was beyond euphoric. You didn't know if you would ever feel this good again.

And suddenly, he stopped. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Fuck. You were crying. “Nothing. Just don’t stop.”

“I need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” He made a move to pull out, but you panicked and tightened your legs around his waist to hold him there.

“It’s nothing bad. I just can’t believe this is happening,” you told him. Warm, pearly tears leaked from the corners of your eyes, but you smiled in spite of yourself. “It feels so good, and I’m just…really happy it's you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel cooed, kissing your tear-stained temples. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? So fuckin’ sweet. Gonna keep you forever, baby. Don’t worry.”

His mouth caught yours in a kiss that was both fervent and impossibly romantic. He tongue slipped past your lips, licking into your mouth with a tender intensity that had you mewling.

Joel resumed thrusting into you. His pace was slower, but his cock was hitting deeper. The warmth in your belly was quickly turning into a burning fire—a fire you wanted to keep on raging.

You were so close, and you knew Joel would never come before you did, but you were determined to hold out; to hold onto this rapturous intimacy as long as you could.

“It’s okay,” Joel said, as if he was reading your mind. “You’re okay.”

You couldn't stop it. Your walls tightened like a vice. You arched and trembled and clawed at Joel, muttering broken curses as he fucked you through your orgasm.

His hips faltered, his thrusts lost their rhythm, and you knew he was about to come. He probably needed to pull out. You probably needed to tell him to. But he just kept plunging his cock into you, and you kept letting him. His eyes were dark and pleading—he was begging you to let this happen.

You wanted him to do it. “Please, Joel.”

He growled a deep, rumbling ‘fuuuuck,' cock twitching and painting your walls with thick ropes of come.

He let out a contented sigh once he recovered and collapsed on top of you, burying his head in the crook of your neck while your fingers sifted through his damp hair.

This would be over soon. Before Joel could give in to his exhaustion and fall asleep on top of you, he would remember where he was: in a decaying cabin at the end of the world with two people who needed him. Soon enough, he would stand up, dress himself, and go back to keeping watch.

You wished you could have this with him all the time. You wished you could fall asleep with him, wake up with him, and spend your days together with some semblance of peace. You didn’t want much, but you wanted that.

“Was that your first time?”

The thought only occurred to Joel when everything was said and done and he was cleaning you up. It made sense—you were young when the outbreak happened, you’d been relatively alone until you met him and Tess, and he could tell by the way your body reacted to him that it wasn’t used to such an intrusion.

“No, but it felt like it,” you replied. “It’s the first time I’ve ever wanted to.”

Joel’s heart plummeted into his stomach. His mouth went dry, his jaw clicked the way it did when he was enraged, and he felt just about ready to kill someone.

“Not like that, Joel,” you said quickly. “I agreed to it. It was...I didn’t have anything else to trade.”

Joel was destroyed, but it wasn’t even a shocking revelation. He didn’t judge you for it—he’d turned to a lot worse in the name of survival—it just made him feel sick that you were ever in that position. You deserved to be cherished and taken care of, not used and discarded.

“Do you still do that?” He almost wanted to ask if you’d ever done it for his or Tess’s benefit, but he feared the answer would crush him.

“No. Not for years,” you replied. “It wasn’t that bad, honestly. It was only a couple of times.”

That’s still bad.

Joel held you close, stroking your hair and kissing your lovely face. Maybe it was because you had told him all of that while you were both still naked, but he felt like he needed to remind you that he adored your body, as well as the soul it carried.

He also felt like he needed to apologise. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“What for?”

“Just…everything. I hate the way I treated you.”

“I already forgave you, Joel.”

Your words should have been a relief, but they felt like a hot knife piercing right into his chest. “Why?”

“You apologised, and you changed.”

“And that’s enough?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I hurt you. I made you feel like you shouldn’t be here.” His throat ached as he swallowed down the emotion rising in him. He didn't want to sound as devastated as he felt, because he knew you would comfort him if he did, and this wasn’t about him.

“You didn’t make me feel like that, Joel,” you spoke with gentle reassurance. “I felt that way for a long time. Before I met you.”

“Okay, but I didn’t help.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s over now. I don’t want to keep harping on it.”

“What do you want?” Joel asked. It was a heavy question, and one you hadn’t considered in so long—he knew that because he hadn’t either.

You snuggled into him, so cute and cosy it made him ache. “Just this. Can we have this?”

Truthfully, Joel was terrified, and he knew it wasn’t going to stop. He used to think that having you close like this would make it harder, but there was a strange sense of relief in having this with you. He didn’t have to worry from afar anymore. He could hold onto you, and look after you. He had you right there with him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Joel laid with you until you fell asleep. He wanted to stay like that all night, sleeping with you curled up in his arms. He hoped that one day he would get to.

Right now, he needed to keep watch.

a/n: im so awkward about writing smut so if that came across while reading pls forgive me. im overall pretty happy with how this turned out. i might write some drabbles about this relationship down the road, but im leaving these two here for now. thanks for reading! p.s. in order to stay true to part one, im sick again posting this. (why do i keep getting sick??)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

changes

synopsis. it's 11 PM, and you're missing him.

cw. fem!reader, grad student!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~26 yrs old), mentions of alcohol

word count. 1.0k words

“Long day at uni?”

You look up from the glass of beer you’re mindlessly staring at to Uraraka, who’s seated at the booth across from you, a worried expression plastered on her face.

You heave a sigh. “You know the works. Exams, presentations,” you cringe, “I got called for oral recitation.”

At that, Uraraka winces. “Yeesh.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you say, almost defensively. You take a swig of your beverage before continuing. “I stuttered a bit, but I was able to answer the question.”

“That’s our girl.”

You smile, feeling warm from the praise.

A silence falls over you before Uraraka speaks up again.

“Is there any reason why you’re drinking at,” she checks her watch, “11:30 on a Tuesday night?”

Your smile falters before you could school it into a playful pout.

“What, am I not allowed to want to spend time with one of my best friends?”

At the mention of the title, Uraraka’s expression softens from a questioning look to that of endearment.

“Of course, you are. It’s just that,” she hesitates, and you brace yourself for what’s to come next.

“It’s not like you to do this, is all.”

You could only hum in response, breaking eye contact.

You go back to tracing the beads of condensation falling down the perimeters of the glass.

The other bar-goers around you are loud in their own conversations.

“...How long has it been since?”

You don’t need to think twice to know what she’s referring to.

Normally, you’d feign ignorance and pretend you absolutely had no idea what the other person is asking about.

But this is Uraraka, one of your closest friends from when you worked on a mission together back when you were still early 20-somethings, and the truth just comes spilling out before you could give it a second thought.

“One month, two weeks, six days.”

You chance a peek at Uraraka’s face, and you almost instantly regret it. She’s sporting an amused look, probably to assuage the embarrassment you’re feeling, but you could spot the hints of pity that lace her expression.

Embarrassment still manages to swell in your stomach.

“Do you miss him?”

You snort.

“If I answer that, you’re gonna think I’m a loser.”

“No, I won’t!” she answers immediately, voice raised. Wary of how loud she just got, she tones it back down before proceeding.

“It’s only natural that you miss him, Y/N. You dated for quite a while.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, but your voice still ends up garbled. “Yeah.”

Without much thought, your eyes drift to your phone, which sits between the two of you on the table. Uraraka follows your gaze, and from the corner of your eye, you see her twitch in panic when she realizes what you’re looking at.

“Uh—I don’t think you should, Y/N.” She sounds hesitant. “You’re tipsy—you’re not thinking straight.”

You frown, looking down at your hands wrapped around the almost-finished beer. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes.

“...You might regret it tomorrow.”

You’d like to think you knew what you were getting yourself into when you said yes to being Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki’s girlfriend three years ago.

Going into it, you knew it was going to be far from easy, but you told yourself you could weather it.

The constant absence, the missed dates, the pestering paparazzi—all of it.

But the theoretical ended up being different from the real thing.

“I feel like I’m dating a ghost, Katsuki. You’re barely around, and I rarely get to spend time with you. What’s the point of being in this relationship when I never get to be with my boyfriend?”

You clench your eyes closed at the memory, willing it to go away. Now sprawled on top of your bed after Uraraka drove you home at exactly midnight (“I have the morning shift tomorrow,” she reasoned), you hold your phone close to your chest, debating whether or not to make the damned call.

You haven’t spoken to him since.

If this radio silence has been unintentional or is by design, you don’t know—but you do know one thing.

That it hurt.

And it’s silly, really, because you’re the one who called it off.

Sighing for the nth time that night, you prop your phone on your chest, thumbing the password before clicking your contacts and scrolling through your Favorites.

You didn’t have the heart to delete his number.

You still don’t, apparently.

“Hello?”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You’re too stunned by the fact that he answered that you forget to respond.

“Y/N?”

“I’m–” you clear your throat, “I’m here.”

A few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“You’re drunk,” he says more as a matter of factly than asks. How he’s able to tell you’ve been drinking is beyond you, but you don’t question him.

There are far more important things.

Like, just hearing his voice.

His voice is gruff, probably from sleep, when he asks: “Don’t you have class tomorrow?”

You ignore his question. “What’re you doing up?”

Though, it suddenly dawns on you that you probably woke him up. You mentally slap yourself.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

Your heart is thrumming and your brain is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, but you press on anyway. “Can I ask why?”

At that, he chuckles, but you can tell there’s no humor in it.

“It’d probably be best for us if you don’t.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Try again.

“Do you miss me, Katsuki?”

He sighs in defeat. “Every single fucking day, princess.”

Your gut twists in delight despite yourself.

In your drunken haze, you’re about to tell him that you miss him, too, and that you’re ninety-nine percent sure that you’re still in love with him, when he cuts you off.

“But nothing’s changed since then.”

He sounds exhausted.

“I don’t want to keep on hurting you like I did, Y/N.”’

You brace yourself for the impact.

“...So, goodbye.”

You hear a click, and before you know it, the line is dead.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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pluckyredhead · 7 months

Note

How exactly was Jon Kent’s introduction handled? Did Clark essentially just bring him out like “hey guys, here’s my 10 year old son I haven’t told you about” ?

Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this, because it is Extremely Comics and I love it.

The short version is that Jon and his parents are from another dimension.

The long version is that prior to the New 52 in 2011, Lois and Clark had been married for years, so when that marriage was erased in the reboot, fans were pretty unhappy.

Then in 2015, DC published an event called Convergence. The plot isn't important, but basically they pulled in all these different versions of their characters from different universes: pre-Crisis Green Lantern, vampire Batman, 70s Wonder Woman, etc. And they brought back a LOT of pre-Flashpoint versions of characters. (I've always assumed it was a test to see if they should undo the New 52 and that the answer was a resounding yes.)

And so they brought back the pre-Flashpoint Lois and Clark just for this one event. In the four years since we'd seen the characters, Lois had gotten pregnant, and during Convergence, she gave birth to Jon.

At the end of the event, the pre-Flashpoint world was destroyed, but the Lane-Kent family was able to travel to the New 52 universe. Of course, the New 52 universe already had a Superman and Lois, so the pre-Flashpoint Clark and Lois decided to just...live like normal people, which they'd never been able to do before. They changed their last names to White and moved to California to raise their son in peaceful anonymity.

So Jon spent the first 10 years of his life in California as Jonathan Samuel White, and has no idea that he's from another dimension, that he's half alien, or that his father is Superman. But then his powers start to manifest, and it turns out it's really hard to keep a secret from a kid with X-ray vision, super hearing, and Lois Lane's smarts. Eventually, his parents have to 'fess up.

Here is the key point: when the Lane-Kents came to the New 52 universe, they arrived 10 years in the past. So if that story took place in 2015, when it was published, they actually arrived in 2005. Meaning that Jon developing his powers at 10 is happening in the present day. Does that make sense?

Soon after this, the New 52 Superman dies, and pre-Flashpoint Clark is like, "Well, someone should be Superman," so he puts his costume back on and introduces himself to the Justice League/the world as the Superman of another dimension.

A bit after that, the 2016 Rebirth reboot happened, which was deliberately designed to push DC canon closer to pre-Flashpoint canon.

Then the New 52 Lois also dies, and pre-Flashpoint Lois is like "I guess I'll just go to the office and pretend to be her," which is wild because she is at least 10 and probably more like 15-20 years older than New 52 Lois. Lois Lane ages like fine wine: confirmed.

THEN Mr. Mxyzptlk kidnaps Jon and traps him in a featureless void and makes his parents forget he exists. In that void, Jon encounters the souls of the dead New 52 Clark and Lois and accidentally swaps them with his parents. Then he yells "NO YOU LOVE EACH OTHER" until they remember who they really are and merge with their pre-Flashpoint counterparts to form new, cohesive versions of Lois and Clark who are simultaneously from the current universe but also have been married for years and love their son.

This also, you know, just casually reboots the universe so that everyone remembers Lois and Clark having been married with a kid for years. So Jon was incorporated into continuity as a 10-year-old, but then the rest of his life was retconned into existence so that, like, Perry and Jimmy remember holding him as a baby and stuff. (And Jon has no memory of living as Jon White or anything like that.)

Anyway, very straightforward and normal, not completely bonkers at all.

#of course this all makes other aspects of continuity more broken and confusing #like kon's entire existence #but shhh #jon kent #superboy

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witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race and any size reader. Thank you for the request; they’re open btw!!!

a/n: pretend Jasper doesn’t exist or they aren’t together, m’kay?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

INFP

Ravenclaw

Chaotic Good

Aquarius Sun, Pisces Moon, Cancer Rising

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Pair of walking disasters who cannot function without each other

Old married couple even though you aren’t that old

Similar trauma but different ways of coping

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Alice had visions of you for years before meeting. She would get so excited every time it happened - she yearned for someone to love.

・She was anxious to meet you, not wanting to make a bad impression.

・You guys met years before Edward and Bella. You were in your early 20s, barely surviving adulthood when you bumped into a woman at work.

“I am so sorry!” You bent down, picking up the books from the floor.

“No it was my fault-” Alice’s sweet voice seemed to twinkle.

・She didn’t know you’d be at work that day (she came every day hoping to see you.) And that rainy Tuesday at the book store was your first meeting.

・Alice is a very romantic person, always bringing flowers, chocolates or gifts.

“You really don’t need to do this,” you smiled at her.

“Oh but I do. I have to make up for the years we haven’t been together.”

・She wouldn’t tell you about her being a vampire until your 6 month anniversary. It was getting harder and harder to excuse the weird things that had happened.

・You have an open-mind anyway. And knowing that beings like vampires exist ... it made life seem more interesting.

・She loves doing your makeup

・Never feeling unsafe whenever Alice is there. You know she could take on anyone/anything.

・She leaves kiss marks with her lipstick on your books, mirrors etc

・Alice makes you lunch whenever you go to work

・” Do you know how happy you make me?”

・Sometimes you feel as if she’s waaaay more sophisticated than you, but she always shuts down those thoughts.

・Always dropping you off/picking you up from work

・She gives you a lot of forehead kisses, although she is shorter than you. You have to lean down or have her on her tippy toes.

・Very big on affection and PDA. Will kiss you no matter where she is or who you’re with.

・Alice likes to have her arm linked with yours. It makes her feel grounded - sometimes she feels as if she could float away without you.

・She hand-makes clothes for you, and they always fit perfectly. Alice has literally perfected sewing and knitting.

・I can definitely see you guys adopting a cat, a black and grey one that likes to sleep in your lap.

NSFW🔞minors dni!!!

・Alice is a flurry of hands and lips. She wants all of you and wants you now.

・Actually will have sex in restrooms, changerooms, the car...

・Alice isn’t overly loud but cannot control her moaning when she’s close to cumming

・She has a lot of energy and rarely gets tired or bored from sex. Alice also has a high sex drive but she never makes you feel responsible for it.

・Alice is somewhat experienced, not overly but not completely clueless.

・I think Alice would like to experiment with sex and kinks. Because she loves you so dearly, she never even looks at anyone with sexual/romantic interest.

・Her favourite positions are either lotus & cowgirl (with her on top)

・I think Alice would prefer receiving head rather than giving it. She absolutely loves the attention.

・Alice is a switch though but is more sub than a dom. She likes that you’re in charge and she’s in safe hands.

・She doesn’t like completely serious sex - giggling and laughing is preferred.

・Has a praise kink

・She can talk a lot during sex and sometimes she comes out with the most randomest stuff

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juneisafantasyaddict · 1 year

Text

The writers of the SaB show seem to be pulling the exact same shit that lb did in the books. because there’s no way they think ignoring everything the grisha have been forced to endure, pretending that the darkling is the beginning and end of their issues and ravka’s, making sure alina never understands what she’s actually fighting for, etc is going to do anything except make me root for the darkling even more.

The entire second season gives me flashbacks to that insane trilogy because somehow they managed to be even worse than the books. they have alina telling the darkling that he doesn’t understand sacrifice?? really??? a man who has spent centuries of his life fighting for the betterment of his people doesn’t understand sacrifice?? the person who literally made protecting grisha his life goal doesn’t understand sacrifice??? does alina realize that the only reason she wasn’t killed the moment she was discovered was because of him?? because of the work he has done??

They had time for baghra to tell stories about her crazy family and how she killed her sister, but there was no time for her to say “this is what life was like before my son decided he was going to make it better for our kind?” if anything, they just pissed me off more because how the fuck is it possible that they are pretending the biggest issue they have is the darkling?? not the monarchy that has exploited grisha and ravka, not the fjerdans who hunt and kill grisha, not shu han who experiments on them??

Sigh, I can’t even write out my thoughts coherently because I’m so irritated by pretty much everything that happened this season. I’m irritated that instead of telling a complex story, we got this dumbed down garbage that tells us nothing, accomplishes nothing beyond “guy in black is bad.” the narrative condemns him for using merzost because he was so desperate to save his people, he tried forbidden magic, but 20 seconds later the hero is using that same forbidden power to bring her boyfriend back to life??? With zero repercussions?? I want to scream!!

If the narrative is so sure they are right, if they are so sure the darkling is wrong about everything, then why are they so afraid to expose the hero to the suffering of her people?? Let her see what they have to deal with, let her truly understand then. She has been a grisha for less than a year, and somehow she knows what’s best for them?? She doesn’t even know them. The show writers literally spent this season making her chase Mal around. Look what happened when they were going after the seawhip, two people died because she didn’t want to kill it, but they moment it went after Mal, suddenly killing it was ok. Her side of the war got attacked and instead of checking to make sure everyone was ok, including her friend’s brother who was literally about to lose his arm, she was screaming about Mal. You want to tell me about sacrifice?? She only cared about one person, and he was perfectly fine at the end. What does she know about sacrifice?? Why oh why is this fucking story just so determined to make her make all the worst possible decisions??

Incase you haven’t noticed, I haven’t talked about the crows at all, because I hate their presence in this story. They are a distraction!!! The grisha are fighting for their right to exist, Ravka is in the middle of a civil war, I do not have the time to follow the shenanigans of a group of criminals from a different country. I still don’t understand their purpose in this story, except comic relief?? 🤦🏽‍♀️

I love Alina, I really do, but jfc you cannot girl boss your way out of real solutions. They have her basically serving the monarchy and the whole time I kept thinking, if I were grisha, I wouldn’t follow her. She’s the leader of the second army but she’s wearing a first army uniform, she’s more interested in protecting the Lanstov throne than she is in protecting her people. She’s so blinded by everyone saying “the darkling is bad, the fold needs to go” she’s not stopping to say “what happens when the fold is gone?” “What happens after the war?” Because surely, she isn’t naive enough to think the people who started killing grisha as soon as they thought the darkling was gone are going to live peacefully with them now?? It took 2 seconds after the darkling died for Fjerda to send an assassin on jurda parem into ravka. Now that there’s no fold to stop them, what will stop Fjerda or Shu Han from sending an army?? Ignoring everything else the crows did, Kaz was right when he said “when they stop looking at her with gratitude, they’ll start to wonder if she hasn’t overstayed her welcome.” Which is basically what Aleksander kept saying btw, they are not going to love you for long, they are going to hate you eventually because they are afraid of what they don’t understand.

I don’t even know what the point of this was, but yeah, I guess it was a rant about how Fucking ridiculous season 2 of shadow and bone was.

#darklina #alina starkov #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #the darkling #sab s2 spoilers #sab s2 #everyone involved in the writing of this story should have their head checked

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gavisuntiedboot · 10 months

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ok you totally don't have to do it butttttttttttt like could we get a spare gavi spending eid w/ the reader's family for your muslim readers 👀

It would be so islamaphobic if I didn’t do this (reader is an Arabic speaker. If you don’t speak Arabic, pretend that the Arabic is whatever language you want!)

~~~

Drip Too Hard

“Pablo I’m almost ready I just need to- what are you wearing?”

Pablo fought back the urge to laugh at the look of shock-horror on your face. It didn’t seem like the appropriate time. His eyes scanned your figure, wrapped in a beautiful blue dress. The skirt and sleeves were embroidered in gold thread, weaving elaborate floral patterns that cascaded and shimmers across your body. Delicate glass beads reflected the light, throwing fractals around the room. Layers of jewelry hung delicately from your neck and wrists, chiming with every one of your movements. He was used to your face done up, but your hair flowing and the precise black lines framing your face made you a different type of captivating. You looked simply stunning. He peered down at his own attire, suddenly feeling horribly underdressed. His short sleeve shirt and khakis, despite being rather pricey, gave the impression that he was off to a beach volleyball tournament, while you looked ready to grace a runway or gala.

“…clothes? I didn’t know this was a formal event. I thought we were just going to go have brunch with your parents.”

“Right but it’s Eid brunch. Why are you in shorts??”

“Why does this brunch need us to dress like we’re going to a ball?”

Your eyes were wide as saucers, jaw on the floor. You know Gavi hadn’t been around the culture and religion for that long, but you couldn’t process this level of unawareness to his surroundings. You had dragged him across Barcelona to different markets to get fabric and beads for your dress, taking swatches to perfectly match your heels, and even asking him to bring you a specific pendant from his trip to Ibiza. You thought he might sense that the occasion called for something more formal than khaki shorts.

“Come here, Pablito.”

You said, sitting on your couch and beckoning him over. He froze in his spot a moment, realizing he was about to face a potential scolding. He walked slowly and sat beside you, careful not to crush the luxurious fabric you were wrapped in. You turned your phone screen to him, showing him a glamorous photo. Three young men, all around your age, in different colored suits. All of them brandished designer belts with large buckles, the leather matching that of their dress shoes. Three wrists displayed three gleaming watches, all embossed with a crown. Next to them, a girl stood in a beautifully embroidered dress, the glittering fabric reflecting the sunlight. The deep purple of the garment was reflected in her intricate eye makeup, and the red bottoms of her heels peaked through the drapery.

“These, Pablo, are my cousins. This is what they wore to Eid brunch with the family last year and they were called underdressed because one of them didn’t have a suit jacket. Eid is the Muslim Met Gala, and I will not be on the worst dressed list by association. Please tell me you have something else to wear.”

Gavi brought his hands to his temples, rubbing them to soothe the oncoming headache from all the information.

“Amie Paris always sends me stuff and I haven’t opened most of it. Oh and Dolce & Gabbana. You can look through and pick an outfit for me.” He suggested, watching your eyes light up and a smile erupt across your face. You tugged his wrist, encouraging him to follow you in. For the next 20 minutes, you treated him like your own personal Ken doll, dressing him up in different luxurious clothing.

You took a step back to admire your artistry. On his chest rested a crisp blue Amie dress shirt, tucked into the pants of a stunningly tailored D&G suit, hugging every muscle in an elegant and yet drool inducing manner. A black Hermes belt sat low on his hips, matching the black leather dress shoes you had forced him into (“Pablo it’s a formal event put the Dunks away!”). Matching Hermes cuff links clinked softly against the platinum Rolex on his wrist. He pushed his hair back and put on his favorite sunglasses.

“Good enough for the Eid instagram picture?” He asked, smirking as he saw you look at him like he was ambrosia from the heavens above.

“Mhm, almost too good. Let’s go before my parents get suspicious as to why we’re late.”

Pulling up to your parents house, Pablo parked behind the six or seven other cars by the property. The gorgeous weather had brought the Eid festivities outside, and Gavi couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of it all. Tables in white and gold cloths held serving trays piled high with sweet and savory delicacies. Every utensil, from the plates to the silverware, was embellished with gold patterns, forming the shapes of stars and crescent moons. Your entire family was spread across the lawn: parents in the middle conversing with aunts and uncles while sipping on cold juices, and cousins ages 3 to 33 were spread about, running and laughing and of course taking photos.

“While I’m incredibly grateful that you made me change, I still feel a little out of place. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do on Eid.” He said, keeping himself at a respectable religious distance. You giggled softly before grabbing his hand, lancing your fingers between his clammy ones. “You just celebrate. Like Christmas. We’ll say hi to my parents, then we can mingle and do whatever we want until they serve the food.”

“Okay okay, one last question.”

“Yes, pablito?”

“What is that creature on the table?”

You turned around to follow Gavi’s line of sight, a loud laugh releasing itself from your throat before you could contain it. You tried to stifle it quickly as the redness creeped onto Gavi’s cheeks. You didn’t want to embarrass him.

“That’s a roasted lamb, amor. I know it looks a little strange to see a whole one on a tray like that, but it’s tradition. They might ask you to eat the head.”

“What??”

Before you could answer and quell Pablo’s fear, your mother called you over.

"حبيبتي، شو المضحك لهذه الدرجة؟ صوتك كثير عالي"

(Love, what’s so funny? You’re laughing very loudly)

Walking over, you kissed your mother on the cheek three times, hugging her close and wishing her a blessed Eid.

"ولا شيء مهم، ماما. كان خطيبي بس خايف من شكال الخاروف "

(Nothing important, mama. My fiancé was just scared by the lamb)

Pablo followed you over after a moment, shaking your father’s hand and kissing your mother on the cheeks. He thanked them for allowing him to be a part of their celebration, and your mother hugged him once again, reminding him that he was like family.

After small talk with your parents, you and Pablo moved around the function, greeting and chatting with various cousins. You laughed and talked loudly, continuing carefree. You loved watching Gavi interact with your family, culture, and religion. About 30 minutes after your arrival, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“We’re going to take instagram pictures now, and we were wondering: can we steal your man to be in them with us?” You stated in shock at your cousins, who often payed you and your doings no mind. “Why him?” You asked, amused by how shy they seemed, like children asking if their friend could come play. “Because he’s dripping hard. Plus if we tag him we could get mad amounts of girls in our DMs.” Have to appreciate that honesty.

Gavi agreed to the photos, and stood with your male cousins to take some hot and only slightly cringey photos in front of all the expensive cars people drive to the function. Afterwards, Pablo handed his phone to your cousin, asking for pictures of the two of you.

“We have to get some together princesa. I wouldn’t look this fine without your help.”

Walking over, you wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek, eliciting vomit sounds from your family. “You’re pretty fine looking all on your own. Thank you, by the way, for coming with me.”

“Of course. There’s no one I’d rather spend my time with, habibti.” (My love)

Needless to say, that one phrase is what created the best photo. You were looking over your shoulder with sheer joy on your face, eyes meeting those of an excited and lovesick Pablo. He was your biggest blessing.

~~~~

Based on my real eid fit and how serious eid insta photos actually are. Also, Eid is 3 days, so this is y’all’s eid gift from meeeee!! Hope y’all enjoy this one 🥰 love u guys xoxo, boot w another migraine !!!

#gavisuntiedboot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi #gavi x you #fc barca #gavi imagine #pablo gavi fanfiction #pablo gavi fanfic #gavi fluff #gavi fanfic #gavi fic #pablo gavi fluff #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi x yn

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