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chloeangelic · 9 months

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Belong to me, I: Chosen

Line cook Joel x waitress reader

Line cook Joel AU masterlist

Summary: You desperately want a baby and hope that your grumpy coworker will help make your dream a reality.

Warnings: Smut, yearning, mild angst, age gap (Joel is 40, reader in her late 20s), mild brat taming, creampie, breeding kink, size kink, description of glass related injury/blood, social smoking, dom Joel (not degrading), ovulation sex, unprotected PIV, mutual pining, rough sex, size kink, ass play.

A/N: Posted a day early cause of the overwhelming response on the masterlist🥺🤍 I'm turning this into an AU that I can post to at random and just kinda use as a creative free space like I did with this, so there will be more parts :))

Word count: 4.8k Rating: 18+

You had a dream one night.

A dream that you were holding a child, your child, a little baby who came from you, whose home was your body for the overwhelming majority of her life. You held her in your arms, cradled her, ran the very tip of your finger over her little nose, stroked her soft cheek and looked into her eyes, seeing yourself in their reflection.

You had dropped her off at your friend’s house to watch her while you went and visited your parents, but when you returned, you could not find her. You searched and searched, asked every person you came across if they had seen her, but nobody had. And when you woke up, you felt that same gut wrenching anxiety over your missing child that you felt in the dream. Like she was still out there, but you had no way of getting to her.

And ever since then, you’ve felt a vacancy in your heart somehow, a pull towards something intangible, something you know you will love and cherish with your whole heart and take care with all the energy you can muster, as soon as it is in your hands.

Yearning.

A deep, almost excruciating yearning for a baby, the baby in that dream, a baby you will not have anytime soon if you are dependent on the presence of a husband or even a boyfriend to provide you with one. For as long as you can remember, you have wanted to be a mother, and it feels as though your opportunity is slipping through your fingers, even at your young age, as you watch friend after friend go off with their significant other and establish families, and you’re still single, not even looking for a special someone.

You want what they have, unbearably so, and have gotten to a point where you think you might crumble if you never get the chance to raise a child, but the idea of dating does not appeal to you, and you would rather just do it all yourself.

One time your friend asked you, “If someone put a gun to your head and told you that you have to have a kid with someone right now, who would you choose?”. You didn’t have an answer at the time, but you do now. It’s been simmering in the back of your mind for a while; the answer to that question. You’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, about how it feels like the right time for you to have this baby you so desperately want.

During the afternoons and evenings, you serve tables at a busy restaurant downtown. It’s not the world’s most interesting job, but you think you’re generally well liked at that establishment, you’re friends with everyone, and the shifts go by relatively quickly.

You walk in through the large doors, waving to Maddy as she escorts a couple to their table, swinging past the bar stools, making your way to the back office to take off your jacket and slip into your heels, giving your hair a quick look over in the mirror before you walk into the kitchen.

And there he is - the answer to your friend’s question. Too tall for the countertops and always hunched over, too broad for the narrow hallways at the back of the house. Big, very big, so muscular, with shoulders and biceps so large you wonder if he spends all his free time working out. Grumpy, never in what one would call a 'good mood', convinced that approving or disapproving grunts count as full answers when someone asks him something.

Joel, a scowling and silent mountain of a man.

Sometimes you sneak out during his break just to chat him up behind the restaurant, even stealing smokes from your coworker to give him a reason to spend more time with you. His scent is intoxicating every time you sit there huddled next to him, especially when it’s cool out and you shove your entire body into the side of his arm and his thigh, his skin as hot as a furnace.

Even his sweat, at the end of the worst shift one can possibly imagine, smells good. He smells like cologne and fresh laundry and what you presume to be combo shampoo and body wash considering he doesn’t give much of a fuck about anything that isn’t his daughter and he’s not exactly what one would call vain.

It seems, however, as if he gives a little bit of a fuck about you.

Sometimes it even feels like he looks out for you.

And you wouldn’t have had this suspicion had it not been for the fact that you brutally cut your hand on a shard of glass a few months back when a vase tumbled and you stupidly tried to catch it. You looked at your bloody hand, heard the snap of Joel’s fingers and a few commands before you were suddenly in his truck on the way to the ER.

He sat there with you, pressing a wad of gauze to the cut until you were called in by the doctor, waited until you came out, then stopped at the pharmacy to get an excess of things you might need, and drove you home. He even stayed with you until you were fed and passed out watching a movie on your couch.

After that day, you’ve felt like his eyes are always on you, his scowl seeming more concerned than menacing, his hands suddenly there to catch you every time you’re about to trip over yourself. Something about the feeling of being protected by him has made your heart and ovaries twist around themselves, making that yearning for a baby incredibly urgent.

You want his baby now, whether he’s present or not, and you’ve decided that you’re gonna ask him for a little favor when ovulation comes around and you feel slick and needy and desperate for his come.

Which just so happens to be tonight.

The restaurant seems to get busier the second you step into the dimly lit lounge, sending you back and forth between the kitchen and your tables more times than you can count, trying to think of how to formulate yourself, how not to scare him off.

You eventually check the time and see that it’s close to Joel’s usual forced break time, and decide that you might as well take your own break now too, needing to speak to him as soon as possible. So you hear the clicks of your heels as you nearly run through the kitchen, grab the lighter from the office and push open the doors to see him already sitting there outside, his face tilted up so the sun hits his skin and bounces off the silver in his otherwise brown hair.

“You mind?” you ask as you close the door, and he nods for you to sit down next to him, already reaching down to commit coworker theft. It always feels casual, calm, even relaxing in some way, to sit out here with him, but tonight you’re on the edge, knowing he’ll never speak to you again if your request falls flat.

He puts the cigarette between his lips and looks at you while he waits for you to light it, but your hands tremble around the lighter as you try to hold it up. His eyes narrow for a moment, then his hands come up to hold around yours, making them disappear under his large palms, holding them steady and looking into your eyes until the flame catches and he pulls back. “What’s on your mind?” he asks, his accent slurring the words together slightly.

You have a speech ready, an explanation about this longtime want and need and yearning to become a mother, a rationale for why you’re ready, why you want to do this as a single woman in her late twenties, an excuse for why you don’t want to go to a clinic and find a donor who’s a Harvard graduate in his early thirties.

Why it is you want him, Joel, to be the one to give this to you, and how he doesn’t have to do anything, emotionally or physically or financially, when you finally get what you want.

But your plan falls flat as you open your mouth, your gaze locked to his dark eyes. “I wanna have a baby” is all that comes out, breathy and longing and absolutely not casual like you planned.

You watch as he flicks the ashes off the cigarette and takes a drag, looking at you with an unreadable expression, then exhaling away from you before he says, “Sweetheart.. The fuck does that gotta do with me?”.

You roll your eyes at him, never threatened or intimidated or insulted by his tone. There is something you find oddly charming about his ability to be grumpy for hours on end and seemingly never cheer up, any pleasant surprise met with the raise of his eyebrows and a slow nod. “I wanna have a baby, now, I don’t wanna wait to meet some prince charming and get married and do all that shit.. I’m happy raising it by myself, I-”

“And?” he asks then, the creases around his eyes getting deeper as a look of confusion creeps up on his face, “Why exactly are you tellin’ me this and not your girlfriends?”. You take a moment to figure out how to damage control, how to reel the situation back in and not scare him off any more, while you watch the smoke rising from between his two fingers, one thick arm resting over his knee.

“I want you to get me pregnant, Joel” you finally say, running your hand up his thigh, unable to cover the expanse of it with your fingers splayed out, and the feel of his muscle tensing under your hands makes you clench around yourself, warm wetness starting to seep out into your panties, “Please? I promise I won’t waste your time”.

He’s frozen, looking at your innocent expression and the subtle slouch in your shoulders. It’s too fucking hard to resist you, your doe eyes and little pout, and there’s something in your tone that makes his shock die down quickly, getting replaced by a strange feeling of flattery. A feeling he’s not used to. Not to mention the disbelief he feels at the prospect of you wanting to get in bed with him.

He can surely find it in himself do this for you without getting attached, without worrying about this child day in and day out, or about you. He hopes he can, hopes that he's too old to worry now. He won’t bother you, he’ll stay out of your business unless you need something. It’s an act of kindness from him, really, and it’s about time he does something nice for someone other than Sarah, who’s been the only one on the receiving end of all his care and love for the past sixteen years. Besides, you're a nice girl, why wouldn't he want to do something for you?

And more importantly, why on earth would he pass up the opportunity to fuck you? To have you under him, to see what’s hiding beneath those black pants stretched to their absolute limit by the thickness of your ass, to hear what you sound like when you come, to know what you taste like, to know how your lips feel on his, not just on his cheek when you thank him for putting food aside for you.

You’re too pretty and too young for him, he knows that, he’s known that since the first time he felt that little flutter in his chest at the sound of you calling his name. Now all he can do is cook for you, leave it under tightly wrapped aluminum foil on the desk in the back office so it stays warm, knowing you’ll look for it there when you run away from your shift in search of something to eat, with a post it note on top, your name sharpied on it, waiting for you.

Just like he waits for you, waits for the moment he sees you every day and hears you say his name again. Hey Joel, the same as always, nothing special, but bubbly when everyone else seems intimidated by him.

He has a little crush on you, a massive one actually, one he hates to admit that he's had for a while now. Ever since you sat out on the stoop behind the restaurant with him for the first time and shared a cigarette you stole from Jermaine. The guy thinks he hides the pack well, but sometimes when Joel comes out to get some air and you’re the only other one who shared the idea, you fish it out from under the steps and slip one out, seldom enough to where he’s sure not to notice.

You teased him for something that first time, and he can’t remember what. A year has gone by, but the sound of your giggle at his disapproval has rattled around in his mind every day since. You frequently tease him, wait for him to roll his eyes, then attempt to tickle him before he grabs your wrist and holds it tight until his break is over, and he pulls you up to your feet, with his other hand on your waist, letting you in the door first before he shuts it behind him.

One time, when he held your eyes for a little longer than normal, he considered asking you out, but thought better of it and closed his mouth as soon as it opened. He wonders why you're single, how it's possible for a man not to want to make you his, why-

“Fuck”, he jumps a little as he lets go of the cigarette and flicks his wrist frantically, trying to soothe the part of his fingers burnt by the ashes creeping down to his skin as he sat there speechless and not paying attention.

“Well?” you ask as if nothing happened, watching his muscles flex under his t-shirt, “What do you say?”.

“Jesus” he whispers, a contemplative shake of his head as his eyes dart around. He should ask why you want him to do it, should suggest every other dumbass working in this place, should tell you no, that he’s too old for you and you’re too beautiful and full of life and too good for this place. But he can’t find it in himself to pass up this chance, and he knows he would fuck you right. He would be good to you. He wants to be good to you.

“That’s all you want?” he asks dryly, then a long exhale, staring into your eyes, “You want me to fuck you?”. Ten years ago he might’ve been more subtle, but he's lived too much since then, and trying to find ways to sugarcoat what needs to be said feels like a waste of his time. The sound of his deep voice makes you shudder.

“I just need you to come inside me,” you purr, nervous as hell all of a sudden, wrapping your finger in his hair, ”And I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time, so.. You can do whatever you want to me”. He glances at your lips as you talk, shoulders shifting under his t-shirt and a swallow passing through his throat. “So you’ll do it?” you ask after a moment.

He’s not passing up on this chance, already half hard at the mere idea of being inside you and counting how many goddamn seconds he has left on his shift. All he does is nod in response, his eyes going a little wide. “Thanks, Joel” you say then, as you stand up and brush off your pants, “I’ll send you my address, I need you over tonight, okay?”. You lean down to place a kiss on his cheek and disappear back inside.

He stays sitting out there a few minutes longer than he’s supposed to, regretting not jerking off in the shower that morning, running his hand down his face and trying to figure out how he can make himself last longer than a minute.

More than anything, it’s strange to see him like this, to see a new side of someone you’ve been around so much. It’s difficult to conceptualize the side of him that is private, intimate, personal. You've thought about him as just a man sometimes, not a coworker, and wondered what he might be like in situations like these. In bed. You wonder if you’ll see him differently after this, if it’ll be impossible to look him in the eyes at work when you’ve felt the size and shape of his cock, when you know what he sounds like when he comes, how he tastes, what he likes.

“So, uh-” he says, as you sit on his lap with his feet planted on the floor at the edge of your bed, “What's the best way to do this?”. He corrects himself after a second, “How do you wanna do this?”. He has his hands around your waist, big and warm, and your arms are wrapped around his neck as you lightly tug at his curls.

“I didn't really think that far” you giggle, and he chuckles softly, likely picking up on your nerves.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asks then.

“Um, yeah, sure” is all you manage to say before you feel his hand around the back of your neck, holding the weight of your head as he kisses you like you've never been kissed before. The scratch of his mustache against your skin is oddly soothing, and his lips are soft, his tongue molten and slippery as it sweeps into your mouth. You exhale into him until your lungs are empty, becoming entirely pliant in his hold, one hand steadying your back as you try to keep from collapsing into his chest.

A whimper escapes your throat, and he whispers, I got you, as he lays you down on the bed and rests his weight on his elbows, hovering over you and spreading your legs. His clothed cock pushes into you as he rolls his hips, forcing more of those little whimpers out and you can feel your pulse deep down where you buck your hips to grind on him.

He undresses you carefully, not leaving a single item of clothing on, wanting to see your naked form. He rolls you onto your stomach and takes the opportunity to let his hands and lips and tongue explore every part of your backside, from your ankles to your ass to your shoulders, giving a little extra attention to your plush cheeks, that he pulls apart and then lands a swat to on one side, making you giggle as he soothes his hand over the mark, already starting to sting from his strength.

You roll onto your back again and start to claw at his shirt. He reaches back to pull it off, revealing the muscular upper body you’ve wondered about for what seems like forever - years, now. A strange smile tugs at your lips as you look at him, at his arm flexing as he opens your knees to spread your legs, and he leans down to kiss you as he drags his knuckles up and down your center.

He pushes two fingers into you and you moan, loudly, too loudly. He shushes you, kisses you again as you writhe under him and grind against his hand until he finds the right spot, the one that makes you arch your back and start begging him to fuck you. He slides his fingers out and looks down to see a thick, glossy string hanging between his two of his digits, raising an eyebrow in what you assume is awe. “Told you I needed you tonight” you purr.

He huffs a little in response, “I can tell”.

He immediately finds your clit with the pads of his fingers, and rubs, slowly then fast, slowly then fast, as he unbuckles his belt with his other hand and shucks off his jeans, then his boxers, and lays on your side with his hard cock resting against your hip.

You start to squirm as he pushes his thick fingers inside you again, curls them a few times and slips them out, going back to massage your clit. “I know” he coos, “You want more, huh?”. All you can do is moan and nod, feeling your orgasm starting to pool at the bottom of your spine.

“It's okay, just let me take my time with you”, he rubs you a little faster, firmer, as he watches your breathing get erratic, “Wanna fuck you right”. He wants to watch you come, has been fantasizing about it for such a long time, wants to see it and hear it and feel it. “I’m gonna give you my cock soon, okay?” he murmurs, “Don't want it to be painful for you, my girl, need you to come for me first”. And something about his words gives you the last push you need, making you come as you whimper his name over and over.

He gets between your legs then, knocking his knee against yours to open you up, and leans over, taking his cock in his hand and nudging the leaking head into your opening. You can feel your thick, slippery wetness spill onto him, and you hear him grunt, fisting his length a few times with your slick and pushing in slowly, stretching you obscenely and filling you to the brim before he’s fully inside.

You shouldn’t be surprised at the overwhelming size of it, considering how he towers over you and is the only person you know who makes you feel tiny, but his cock rubs against every soft spot inside you and stimulates every nerve in your body, reaching a depth nobody has ever touched before.

He fucks you with deep strokes, reaching all the way to the end of you before he withdraws halfway and pushes back in, breathing hard and squeezing his hands around your hips so tightly you can feel the marks forming. You need him even deeper. “Harder, Joel, please, please“ you beg, “I’m so fucking wet and you feel so good, I- please, oh god, please”. Your voice is filled with desperation, and he wants to hear it every day for the rest of his life, the sound of you on your knees for him, wanting him and everything he can give you.

“Relax.” he says sternly, shoving you into the mattress with a thrust and holding you there with his strong hands, trapping you under him and forcing you to stay still as his cock slides in and out smoothly.

“I can’t, just hurry up, please, fuck me faster, I need it” you nag then, whiny and annoying, snapping your fingers.

He pauses then, leans over to stare down into your eyes, “Do you want my come or not?”.

“Ugh, yes”, you groan, letting out a few soft grunts as you try to shift around in his grasp and push down onto him harder somehow.

“Settle then”, his voice is stern again, commanding but patient, as if he has all the time in the world.

“Come on, Joel”, you stretch your back and try to escape his gaze, digging your nails into his shoulders and feeling your walls fluttering around him.

His hand wraps around your throat then, and his face is close to yours, that dark gaze unrelenting and demanding your attention. “Settle down” he says calmly, and holds you pinned right there until he feels your body relaxing, your slick dripping down his shaft and your nipples tickling his chest.

He flips you over and pulls you up and onto your knees, arms stretched out over your head as he slides all the way into you and the pressure on your cervix makes you try to squirm away. A useless endeavor. His hands rove around your ass cheeks and you hear a quiet shit above you, followed by an equally low fuck me as he squeezes your flesh, pulls it apart, then spits onto your asshole.

You feel him smear it into your skin with his thumb, whining at how he teases you, pushing his thumb into your tight hole slowly while he jacks himself with his other hand. You plead again, a long, drawn out please, Joel, then another oh god, please, a last more, more for good measure, and then he’s pushing the head of his cock into you, filling you with his thickness and finally inching his thumb into your ass. The intensity is overwhelming, and your eyes roll back as another orgasm nears.

“Give me one more, baby, come on” he coos as he reaches around and rubs your clit.

You respond, barely coherent and not wanting him to stop, “I don't- I don’t think it'll determine if it takes or not.. How many times I c-come”.

He gives you a few strokes, overwhelming and hard and squelching with your arousal before he says, “I read in a fuckin’ article that it helps, or, I don’t know, something”.

You shift your eyes around a little, wanting to laugh, “You read an article saying that orgasms increase your likelihood of conceiving?”.

“Just shut up and let me make you come, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Stop talkin’ so much”. His voice is low and husky as he rubs the back of your hip with one thumb and the other sinks deeper into your ass as you tighten around it.

“Why?” you ask, breathy and whiny, “All I need is your come, I- I’m not expecting-”.

He cuts you off quickly, whispering, “Jesus…”.

“I’m not gonna have sex with you if you don't enjoy it, okay?” he says, “So just shut up and take my cock like a good girl, I know you can, I know you want it”. His hand snakes up to find your tit, squeezing it before rubbing your nipple with two of his fingers.

“Besides, I know it makes you feel good, you can't hide it," he runs his palm down your back, smacks your ass firmly, then grabs it tight to stop the recoil, “You're about to soak my cock, I can tell.. Gettin’ all tense and shit”. He lifts your torso with his hand on your sternum, pulling you up and into him, shoving his face into your neck so you can listen to his growls while he fucks you.

Your orgasm hits you quite suddenly, and your head falls onto his shoulder as you pant. “How does it feel when I make you come? Huh, little bunny?”. You can’t answer, too blissed out and too fucked out to think, only mustering up a mumbled, uhhh. “Use your words now” he says, and flips you onto your back.

He lines himself up and slams back in, folding your legs and pushing your thighs into your chest as he pounds you, “Come on, baby, tell me, how’s it feel to come all over my cock?”. You grab at the muscles of his arms, his shoulders and his chest, trying to get words out but only managing an incoherent mess of moans. So good, Joel, so good, you whimper.

Then he wraps your legs around his waist and slips his arm under your back, and supports himself on his fist right beside your head, lifting you up to pound you harder, deeper, with more force as his thrusts gradually slow down and he breathes heavily, staring down at how your tits slide up and down your chest. “Say you want me to come inside you”, his voice is strained, and you can tell he’s holding back by the way his cock twitches.

You take a deep breath, and coo, as softly as you can, “Want you to be my baby daddy, Joel”, and watch his face contort, his eyes closing and feel his arm tightening its grip around you. You moan a little, eyes rolling back at the intensity. “Come inside me, please,” you beg, “Wanna be full of you, want you to give me a baby, your baby”.

He groans at that, then pulls you up into his chest so closely you can feel the sweat dripping down from his hair and onto your skin, and his cock pulsating as he fills you with his come. You can tell it's a lot by how he throbs inside you incessantly, and moans, long and ragged, while he digs his face into the crook of your neck.

He lifts your hips up, staying buried inside you, and shoves a pillow under you as a mix of his come and your slick runs down between your asscheeks, onto the cover. He wraps his hand around your throat again and growls, into your ear, “You’re mine now, little thing, all mine”.

I have ditched my taglists, due to the majority of tags not working, and have created a notifications blog instead. Follow Angelic Notifs and turn your notifications on if you want my new fics served directly to you!

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller #dom!joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x you #brat tamer!joel #joel miller one shot

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avatar-anna · 2 months

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i’ve been thinking about hockeyrry lately and then i see this…. now all i can think about is hockeyrry having an argument with yn and having to do promo after a game, when all he really wants to do is find his gf and make up with cuddles and kisses :(((

this turned out to be a lot longer and not the short/cute little blurb i initially planned. enjoy more shenanigans from hockey harry and skater reader!

Hockey player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

"So, Harry, what are your thoughts on the team's performance tonight?"

You watched the screen in front of you begrudgingly, sticking your spoon in your bowl of ice cream and eating it, perhaps a little too aggressively. But you didn't change the channel, not wanting to miss a moment of Harry on camera, no matter how much he drove you crazy sometimes.

The fight had been brief, but arguments were something you and Harry were rather good at, and this one was no different. Harry ended up leaving for his game in a huff as you rolled your eyes at his back, and even though you were more than slightly pissed off, you sat down to watch his game on TV anyway.

His team won, but barely. Harry's mind was clearly elsewhere—he took more penalties than necessary and even more checks against the boards, each slam of his body against the plexiglass making you tense up. He clearly had been in two places at once, and for that, you felt guilty. Your argument wasn't inconsequential, and you intended to finish it less intensely when he came home, but now that you'd simmered a bit you regretted fighting with Harry right before he left, as it clearly affected his performance on the ice tonight.

"Obviously, we didn't play our best," Harry said into the interviewer's microphone. "I'm certainly disappointed in myself. In more ways than one."

His poor eyes were tired, bags hanging beneath them, his nose red and irritated. And his voice was hoarse too, unlike the way it normally was when he first woke up in the morning. From that to his pale skin, you could've sworn Harry had gotten sick in the few hours he'd been gone.

"How do you unwind after a game that was tough both physically and mentally like tonight?"

Harry rubbed a tired hand over his entire face. He was polite, but you could tell a post-game interview was the last place he wanted to be. "Erm, just go home. Rest, meditate, I guess."

"Meditate? You meditate? Can you walk us through that process?"

"Uh..." You watched Harry visibly deflate on camera but stay where he was. With a sniffle, he continued. "There's not much to it. Just measured breathing, peace and quiet, and going to bed early."

"Well, we won't keep you from your post-game meditation, Harry. Just one last question!"

You watched the interview wrap up and the sports channel switch over to a broadcast of a different game. Waiting for him to come home, you began to prepare for bed. You set out Harry's softest sweats and favorite crew neck, put new essential oils in the diffuser by his bed, and a new box of tissues along with a steaming mug of tea. You were almost positive he was sick, and when Harry was sick...he became something of a little baby. But he was your baby to take care of, even if you had just been arguing a few hours ago.

A little while later, the lock clicked and the sound of shuffling feet echoed through the apartment. A cough and a sniffle followed, and you could already picture his curls flopping against Harry's forehead clumsily as he rubbed his hand against his nose, the green of his eyes bright against tired redness.

"Y/n?" he called. "I'm sorry about our fight earlier. I know we left things on a sour note, but can we press pause on it for now and pick it up on it in a few days? I'm not feeling—"

"It's fine, H," you said, appearing from your bedroom. Your eyes softened as you took in his rumpled suit, the jacket slung over his arm in a heap. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming down with something?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know I was. It was just a little throat scratch when I left here, and then—"

He stopped to cough, and you could see him wince as if it hurt his chest. Taking the jacket and duffle bag off his shoulder, you set it down and took his hand, squeezing it as the coughing fit ended. You pulled him down the hall toward your bedroom, ignoring his questions and protests until they stopped when you finally reached the threshold.

"What's all this?" Harry asked, hooded eyes sleepily scanning everything you'd set up.

"Change. Lie down. I'll bring dinner in a few minutes."

"For me?" he said, a little smirk stretching across his face. "You never cook."

"Don't get too excited, it's canned soup," you said, feeling flustered beneath his stare all of a sudden.

You did things for Harry, of course you did. Was it a bad thing that he seemed surprised that you wanted to take care of him? A few years ago, sure, but things were different now. It was only occasionally now that you found him irritating. He was only teasing you, and honestly, you would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

Leaving Harry to change, you got started on heating up his soup. He probably should've had something more substantial than soup from a can, but you hadn't completely ruled out him having the flu yet and wanted to air on the side of caution.

Once everything was set—hot soup, a cup of tea, and some medicine all arranged on a tray—you brought it to the bedroom and set it on Harry's lap. He smiled tiredly at you, mumbling his thanks before digging in. You watched him eat, unsure of what else you should do in the meantime. Harry had asked when he came home to press pause on the argument you'd had before his game, but now you didn't know what to say, argument or otherwise. You wondered if the silence between you and him was only awkward in your mind and not his, or if he was merely hiding his frustration from earlier with you while you doted on him. You didn't want to pick up where the two of you had left off before his game, but it didn't seem right to leave things unfinished, unresolved. Harry certainly didn't seem to notice or betray his own emotions as he sipped on his tea and sniffled between bites of his dinner.

"I'll get you some more blankets."

Before he could respond, you were off the bed, shuffling down the hallway toward the closet where the extra linens were kept.

You felt like you had to keep busy. You told Harry the argument was forgotten, but you couldn't help but feel as though there were words left unspoken between the two of you. And perhaps part of you felt guilty too. The argument started out as a heated discussion, but you let your temper get the best of you, so instead of getting to the bottom of things, you ended up yelling and taunting and refusing to listen. Harry hadn't been a saint in any of it either, you both had a competitive streak, and that extended to disagreements. But this was different. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn't even notice your boyfriend was sick.

Shaking your head, you grabbed the extra blankets and went back into the bedroom.

Not saying a word, you took the tray and set it on the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed. You wrapped him up with more blankets, piling them on until only his face peeked through. Harry grinned at you, his nose and cheeks rosy and eyes only slightly drooping from fatigue. You ignored him, making sure he was properly wrapped before pressing a hand to his forehead to check for fever.

"You're fussing," Harry said, his voice only slightly teasing. "You never fuss."

"Shut up," you muttered, turning around on your heel and taking the tray out of the room.

"Don't be long!" he called, and you could practically feel the grin as you walked away.

Harry was right, of course. You were fussing. Perhaps you were trying to make up for the things you said earlier, for picking a fight with him when you knew he had to leave for his game, though that had been precisely the problem.

Proud didn't even begin to cover how you felt regarding his career. Harry worked so hard, had come so far in such a short period. In what felt like a quick few years, he had become a superstar on the ice, taking the NHL by storm and absolutely dominating his competition. Harry deserved every bit of praise from reporters and journalists, every standing ovation from adoring fans, every interaction from young hockey players who looked up to him. No one deserved it more than Harry, but the bigger he became, the more famous he got, it seemed as though he had less and less time for you.

You knew that being in a relationship with him wouldn't be a walk in the park, you were familiar with the traveling and the long seasons and everything else that came with being in a semi-long distance relationship with an athlete. You and Harry had been together since college, you'd done it and survived it, but this...this was completely different.

The minor leagues were manageable. Harry had a busier schedule than he did in school, but the two of you made it work. When he made it to the NHL, you realized that busy didn't even begin to cover it. Press conferences before games, interviews after games, sponsorship deals, longer seasons, charity games, international tournaments—all of it was one big whirlwind that hit your relationship before you could blink. And you would've been able to withstand all of it if you could see him just a little bit more.

That had been the crux of your argument. You hadn't planned on fighting with Harry about it while he was on his way out to get to the arena, but he'd mentioned being home late to do a couple extra interviews, and you just couldn't hold it in anymore.

Returning to your bedroom, you started getting ready for bed. A freshly washed face, brushed teeth, and one of Harry's old university sweatshirts later, and you were sliding into your side, back facing Harry. You could feel him, feel the heat of all those blankets you'd wrapped around him. But you could feel the heavy weight of his stare too, as if he was wordlessly trying to get you to turn around.

"I'm sensing this is some form of punishment," he said. His voice didn't sound as scratchy as it had been when he came home, which you took as a good sign.

"What is?" you asked.

"You wrapping me like a burrito. I can't hold you like this."

You smiled, the image of him frowning down at the plethora of blankets you swaddled him in appearing in your mind.

"You were shivering."

"Was I? I can't recall," Harry said. "I feel like I'm in a furnace now, though."

"That's good. Your fever probably broke."

"You know, as much as I love talking to the back of your lovely head, I'd appreciate it a lot more if I could talk to your even lovelier face."

Taking your time, you rolled over, making sure he saw the amusement on your face. The grin on his own merely brightened, and you hoped he didn't notice you blush.

"Flattery won't get you out of those blankets, Styles," you finally said.

"No, but maybe it'll get you in them with me, soon-to-be-Styles."

Your hand went reflexively to your left hand to fiddle with your engagement ring. You hadn't had it long, but fiddling with it quickly became a habit you intended to keep. The proposal had been a surprise, but it felt right at the same time, as if without really needing to say it, you and Harry were both ready to take that next step. And you couldn't lie, Harry had done an immaculate job with the ring even though you'd never really mentioned what you might be interested in. It was emerald cut, a classic in your opinion, but a light green sapphire instead of a diamond in the middle. "I don't know, you mentioned something about blood diamonds a few months ago and thought you might appreciate something different," Harry had said by way of explanation.

You used to find it annoying—frustrating, even—how much Harry seemed to know you, but the night he proposed—at home after spending a whole afternoon together that he'd planned from start to finish—you thought he was nothing short of perfect.

"Are we okay?" you asked out of the blue, though not really. Thinking about the proposal, the wedding, made you realize that maybe you shouldn't go to bed with an unresolved argument with your fiance.

Harry sighed. "I hope so. I'm sorry. I should've realized how lonely you've been lately. I know this...lifestyle...isn't always the easiest to live with."

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have unloaded on you right before you left. I know how important it is to have a clear head before a game."

"You're important to me, Y/n," he said. Harry struggled for a moment as he tried to free an arm from his blanket cocoon, muttering to himself about your hidden talent for blanket wrapping. You let out a watery laugh as you watched him struggle, then helped him peel the blankets back until he was entirely free. Sitting up, Harry pulled you to him, his hand cupping your cheek. "Now, where were we?"

"Allegedly, I'm important to you," you said, the corner of your mouth tipping up.

"Glad you're in higher spirits," Harry murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. His eyes flitted over your face as if he could read everything you weren't saying, and you were sure he did. He had a knack for that kind of thing. "I should know how much time I've been taking away from you. From us. I'm sorry."

"I know you don't have much control over your game schedule, but I just feel like never see you anymore. I just want—I just want more time with you, that's all. I'm sorry it came out the way it did."

Harry shook his head, used to your tendency to hold your feelings in until they barreled out of you. It was something you were working on, you were only thankful Harry stuck around long enough until you figured it out.

"I know you are. I'm glad you told me, though. Or yelled it at me."

Face flushing, you said, "Sorry. I'm...working on it."

"I know," Harry said, chuckling as he kissed your cheek. "But I don't mind. I love fighting with you."

"I'm so glad," you mumbled.

Laying Harry back down across the bed, you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his cheek and his neck, his skin warm but not feverish. The skin of his cheek was soft against your lips, making you nuzzle your nose deeper into him. Your legs tangled with his as Harry nestled deeper into your arms. Easing up just a little, you leaned back enough to run a hand through his hair, making sure your nails scratched against his scalp the way he liked it.

"Mm. This is almost better than makeup sex," he murmured.

Leaning forward, you nipped at the shell of Harry's ear. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey. I said almost."

You chuckled quietly in his ear before placing another little kiss to his temple. Nudging him with his nose one more time, you said, "Maybe after the playoff season is over, we can go somewhere. Somewhere warm. Maybe even tropical. You can take some time off once the season is officially over, right?"

"I do love seeing you in a bikini—Ow! What? You want me to lie?" Harry said, crying out when you pinched his side.

"You're such a guy sometimes, I swear," you grumbled.

Harry's face split into a grin, and you could feel it as you kept nuzzling his cheek. "So I find my fiance attractive. Since when is that a crime?"

"Someone's feeling better all of a sudden." You began to untangle yourself from Harry, but he held you in place. When you tried to wriggle away from him, he held you in place, wrapping around you like moss on a limb until he had you pinned to the mattress.

"Don't act like you don't like it," he said. "Or that you don't think the same things about me."

"Aren't you sick? Go to sleep!" you said, trying not to smile as he began to kiss you all over just like you'd been doing to him.

"Admit it or you're not getting a vacation," he taunted, his kisses along your neck becoming longer, more languid.

Oh, I'll be getting my vacation, you thought. Whether you played into Harry's hands tonight or not, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

When Harry raised his head and his gaze finally met yours, you raised a single brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. I don't scare that easily, you know that," he said, though when your brow arched just a little bit higher, he sighed and pressed one last kiss to your forehead. "Fine then. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that I find you more attractive than you do me."

"Oh brother," you groaned as you leaned across Harry to turn the lamp on his nightstand off.

Harry's only response was a very pointed sniff into the dark, which made you roll your eyes.

It was quiet as the both of you settled down. It was clear Harry expended the little energy he had, as the sniffles and coughs came back a few minutes after you turned the lights off. Shuffling back over to him, you snuck a hand under his shirt and began running it gently up and down his back. Once again carding your other hand through his hair, you felt him relax a little.

You exhaled deeply, settling in close to Harry and cuddling into the warmth of his body. "Get some rest, H," you murmured, your hand still moving steadily along his back.

You stayed awake until Harry's breaths evened and slowed as he began to snore softly. Your own eyes began to droop, comforted by your fiance's closeness and the resolution you'd been seeking since he'd stormed out of the house earlier today.

It could be worse, you supposed. Of all the people in the world to argue with, you were happy Harry was the one. If this was the outcome every time—minus Harry's illness, of course—you couldn't help but look forward to the rest of your life with him.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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mapofthesea · 2 years

Text

jungkook x fem!reader

non idol!au, domestic jungkook

genre: smut and fluff

word count: 3k

summary: After your midday nap ends in a nightmare, you seek Jungkook for comfort.

warnings: talk of a bad dream (some discussion of it but nothing crazy), needy Jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, face sitting, oral (f receiving), lots of love for readers tits, body appreciation in general, they're in love, handjob, some teasing/begging, jk is whiny but still in charge, dirty talk, unprotected sex in an established relationship (this is fiction, please don’t do this irl), jk cums inside, aftercare

an: This came to me in a dream again and I woke up far too early to write the outline. As always, I do not proof read (because I am lazy and spend enough time proof reading my college assignments) so if there’s any typos I apologize. This includes mature content and is for 18+ audiences ONLY, so if you are underage or uncomfortable with this content, please don’t read it. Enjoy!

A shiver wracks down your spine, hair standing at attention underneath the warmth of your thick sherpa sweatshirt. The remnants of your dark nightmare leave you confused, even as a gentle mid-day sun streams into your bedroom and the pleasant chirping of birds faintly greets you. Your head spins and your mouth is dry, but you ignore both of those feelings as you rush out of bed.

Flashes of the nightmare seem to stick to you, even with the sunny disposition of the day. The feeling of hopelessness and loss stings you in the short walk down the hallway into Jungkook’s office, where you had left him when you went to bed. The door is ajar, and the breath you exhale as you open it is punched right back out of you when you find the room empty.

Anxiety simmers within you, promoted by the way you had just dreamed about not being able to reach your beloved boyfriend. The only thing you can think to do is rush down the stairs clumsily, narrowly avoiding banging your elbow off of the railing as you fly into the living room. Jungkook is there, sitting on the couch facing away from you, mindlessly tapping through his phone.

A sigh of relief falls from your lips as you latch yourself around him from behind the couch. He startles at your touch and turns until he’s sideways, level with your chest as he peers up at you.

His hair is endearingly mussed, a few errant pieces poking up at the crown. His big eyes twinkle at you, irises searching your own when he sees the stricken look on your face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Of course he immediately noticed something was wrong. You can only imagine how crazy you look fresh out of a nap and a subsequent panic.

“Just a bad dream.” You offer, running your hands down the steady plane of his back, enjoying the tangible proof of him being alive and well. Jungkook makes a low keening noise at your attention, nuzzling into the soft fabric of your sweatshirt so far that you almost don't hear his muffled words.

“Wanna talk about it?” You finally make out his words, and the thought of rehashing the dream brings tears to your eyes. Your breath hitches a little as he settles his head on your chest. His weight is grounding, and the fact that you can smell his intoxicating mix of shampoo and cologne gives you enough power to choke out the details.

“You needed help, and you kept calling for me, and I couldn’t get to you.” You sniffle and he whines, winding his hands around your back to hold you impossibly closer. “And you just kept yelling my name and I couldn’t find you, and I thought that you were...” the word stalls in your throat but he understands, nodding against your chest. One of your hands slides to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the constant rise and fall of his breath. “I just needed to know you’re still here.”

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m right here.” His hands are steady on your waist, nose nuzzling endearingly into the space just under your breasts. His actions make you shiver for a completely different reason, and a shuddering breath punches out of you.

“Need me to prove it?” His voice takes on a teasing lilt that makes your stomach flip and you hum your affirmation. Jungkook moves deliberately, nuzzling his face against your covered cleavage. Even through the layers of clothing you can feel your nipples harden, begging for him to give them more attention. He mouths at your tits through the fabric, playfully biting at the flesh there just enough to make you gasp.

“Fuckin’ sweatshirt,” he groans, looking up at you with well practiced puppy eyes. He knows he doesn't need them, that you would do basically anything he asked you right now, but he loves to see the way your face softens at his expression.

“Please take it off, baby. I wanna see your pretty tits. Wanna have ‘em in my mouth.” The genuine desperation in his voice is nothing new but it still makes your brain short circuit a bit as you scramble to pull the sweatshirt off. As soon as the fabric hits the floor Jungkook’s hands push your t-shirt up over your chest, holding it up around your collarbones with one hand as he dives into your tits.

He has no shame in lapping at you, leaving trails of translucent spit around your nipples as you keen. Jungkook sighs happily as his free hand gropes what he can't fit in his mouth, which he’s using to leave a sinful pattern of bite marks all over you. He makes a particularly pointed mark inches away from your nipple that has your knees buckling. He chuckles a breath of air across your already sensitive nipple and your hands grip greedily into the back of the couch for support.

The way his head looks at it bobs between your breasts makes you dizzy, not to mention the deft movements of his tongue and hand sending sparks straight to your core.

“Taste so fucking good baby, as always. Shit. I love these fucking tits.” He licks a bold stripe across your right nipple before capturing it between his lips and you pitch forward into his touch. Your hands move too, desperate to feel something other than the plush of your couch under them.

Jungkook is so wrapped up in you that he doesn't notice your hands have moved until you’re palming his cock through his lounge shorts. He groans and nips at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

The feeling of him readily hardening under your touch makes you moan, head tipped back as you trace the familiar length through the fabric.

“Wanna touch you, Jungkook, please.” Your eyes water with tears and he coos at you, stroking his thumb underneath your eye to collect some tears.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Take my cock out while I suck these pretty tits.” His voice is barely more than a whine, but you feel confidence surge through you at the idea that you’re the one to make him this way. With no underwear on, it’s easy for you to get his cock out of the confines of his shorts. The weight and size of him is familiar and almost welcoming as you begin to stroke him the way you know he likes. You savor the feeling of his prominent veins as his cock jumps in your touch. His breath stutters against your chest in tiny puffs, giving away just how badly his resolve was slipping as you work your thumb over the head.

“Fucking shit, you have to stop,” his hands fall away from you, head tipping back as you stroke him particularly hard. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly.

You decide to ignore his words but only manage to stroke him a few more times before he pushes your hands off of him with a growl. His eyes are dark with lust, hungrily racing over your figure that’s back to being covered with your t-shirt. Your chest heaves as he tips his head toward the empty space on the couch, and even without words you know what he wants.

You settle into the couch and seconds later Jungkook is over you. You can see the way he’s pushed his hair off of his forehead, and the sexy crease of his eyebrows as he appraises you.

“Stupid shirt,” he mumbles as he helps you take it off, mumbling endearingly as it gets stuck on his hands while he tries to get it onto the floor. His own follows shortly after, and it doesn't take long before he’s hovering above you completely bare.

His cock stands at attention against his toned stomach and you reach for it, hoping he takes some pity and lets you return the favor of amazing foreplay.

“No,” he grunts as you make contact with him. A shy smile splits his face when he notices your pout and his demeanor softens despite the situation. Jungkook brings his face inches away from your own and smiles.

“You know I haven't even kissed you since you came down here? How awful of me.”

“Hmmm, worst boyfriend award pending,” you tease. He smiles again and his nose wrinkles adorably, teeth poking out in the most endearing way. Your stomach flips at his beauty, how lucky you are to have him.

“Fuck, just kiss me, please,” you breathe, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to feel his lips on your own. You keep a steady hold on the back of his neck as you kiss, clashing teeth as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hips buck involuntarily at his touch and his hands find a place at them, holding with a bruising grip. He disconnects from the kiss, planting one on your chin as your chest heaves with desire.

“My sweet girl, all worried about me in your dream, hm?” The way he’s able to change his demeanor so quickly during sex is something you love about him, and your head spins as he falls back into a more dominant personality. His fingers tease into the waistband of your bottoms, dancing along the delicate skin of your hips.

“Y-yeah,” you squeak out. Jungkook takes mercy on you and slides your bottoms down, leaving you bare to his gaze and touch.

“Wanna make you feel better now.” He sits up, surprisingly, and your eyes zero in on the way his cock bobs with the movement. His legs fold and unfold as he moves, and you’re confused until you realize he's laid himself down on the extended sectional of the couch.

“C’mere baby. Want you up here.” You obey mindlessly, crawling over him so that you’re on top now. Assuming he wants you to ride him, you position yourself just above his hips, hands planted on his firm chest. An incredulous laugh punches out of him as he reaches down for you, pulling you further up his chest until you’re-

“Jungkook, no.” You gasp, in disbelief of what you now realize he’s implying. His hands splay on your thighs and his eyes sparkle.

“Uh uh, no fighting me. We both know how much you love sitting on my face, so get up here. Wanna have you in my mouth.”

Your stomach contracts because you know he’s right, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of your head.

“Kook, I just had a dream that you..died, and I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jungkook grunts at your worry, pinching at the meat of your thigh.

“Baby, I’ll be just fine. Plus, if I’m gonna go, I would love for it to be while I’m buried in your sweet little pussy.”

His candor sends a new wave of arousal through you, and you know he’s right, so you nod and shuffle your hips up to him.

“Love you so much, Kook.” He smiles at your words and promptly wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you exactly where he wanted you. His tongue immediately splits open your pussy lips as his fingers flex into your skin and hold you in place. You can feel his nose pressing against your clit, rubbing the nerves in a way that makes your eyes roll. He makes short work of licking up every bit of arousal you'd already produced, but there’s no shortage of more as he endeavors to attach his lips around your clit and suck.

Your thighs shake around his head and you can heard his satisfied moans against your pussy. You feel like every nerve inside your body is on fire, conducted by the way his tongue knows the perfect places to devour. Your orgasm builds exponentially when he licks messy circles around your clit, the sloppy sounds of his spit mixing with your juices hurdling you closer to your end. Your toes curl as he groans again, vibrations going right to your core and coaxing your orgasm out of you. You gasp, unable to stop the tightening of your thighs around his head as you cum.

Forever the champ of eating you out, Jungkook continues to lap up your orgasm until you’re genuinely worried you might be hurting him and scoot back off of him. He lets you go reluctantly, staring up at you as you go.

His face is covered in the sheen of your cum, and his eyes are so wide and admiring that you almost want to cry.

“You're so hot, baby. Perfect little pussy.” He sits up and captures you in his arms, uncaring of the way your weeping pussy gushes against him.

You kiss him, and all you can taste is you, but you still feel so pleasantly high from cumming that you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. As your senses come back you feel his cock beneath you, and despite having just cum, you feel voracious for him to be inside of you. Jungkook kisses the soft spot under your ear and sighs at the contact of your throbbing pussy on him.

“If you're ready I am, baby. Need to cum in you,” the strain in his voice is obvious and so sexy, the evidence of just how much you affect him.

You can’t resist kissing him again, sharing the flavor between your tongues as he lays you back down. Although you haven't said anything, he knows your legs are far too tired to do anything but lay down and take it, and he’s more than happy to adjust for that.

He strokes his cock a few times, spreading his precum down his shaft in a way that has your mouth watering. Your legs fall open easily, never one to deny him or delay your shared pleasure. Jungkook moans appreciatively at the gesture, running his fingers down your slit before slipping two in.

You writhe at the unexpected contact, sensitive to his touch after cumming so hard on his tongue. Although you understand and appreciate his concern of making sure you're ready for his cock, you feel more than prepared for him after your first orgasm.

“Please don't fucking tease me right now, I need you.” Jungkook arches a brow at your desperate plea, a shit eating grin sprouting as his fingers stall.

“You need me that bad, huh? Don’ even need me to stretch out your little pussy?” He knows you can handle him, but the idea of making you admit it has his cock jumping again.

Your face flames with misplaced embarrassment, knowing exactly what he wants you to admit to.

“Y-you don’ need to because I came so hard, I-I’m wet enough.” You stutter it out and his smirk widens, proud of himself for making you admit it.

“My dirty little baby.” He steals another kiss as he guides the tip of his cock to you, running it over your clit until he can't take it anymore. Jungkook presses in slowly and you can see his pretty eyes roll back as he feels your walls envelope him.

Despite how wet you were, the sheer size of his cock means there’s always a stretch, but you work through it quickly, squeezing your walls around him once he has fully sunk into you. A string of praises falls from your lips as he thrusts into you, barely holding back. His hands squeeze the flesh of your waist as he fucks you, eyes bored onto the place where you connect.

It’s all you can do to keep from squirming off of the couch in pleasure as he fucks into you with a practiced precision, finding the perfect angle and speed and using it to his advantage to work you up quickly. The sight of him over you is something you never want to be without: lower lip captured between his teeth, hair slicked back with sweat, chest heaving with his effort as his thrusts rock you up the couch cushions.

When he finally unlatches his bottom lip from between his teeth, he makes the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard, interlaced with praises that make your own chest heave.

“Shit, you feel so good, my baby. My girl made for me, perfect little pussy that’s just for me.” His hands shake noticeably as he moves them; one to press down over your stomach and keep you in place, the other finding it’s place over your clit. You can tell he’s close when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, and he doubles his efforts by circling your clit with two fingers at a speed that would make your wrist ache. Your hands scramble to grab onto his arms, leaving crescent marks behind where your nails dig into his skin.

“Right t-there, Kook.” Your eyes roll and all words abandon you as your orgasm rushes in, churning your stomach in knots of pleasure as you moan Jungkook’s name.

“Got you, baby. Right behind you.” He cums seconds after you, giving short thrusts to pump his cum as far into you as possible. You enjoy the come-down together, gripping each other closely as the world returns. You still feel a bit like your head is underwater when Jungkook gets the energy to pull out of you, but you take his hand when he offers it. One trip to the bathroom later, you’re back where you began your afternoon.

This time Jungkook’s toned body is backing your own, fingers playing with the hair that splays around you on the sheets.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You nod, turning to face him. Neither of you bother putting clothes back on before crawling into bed, and you press your bare chest against his own.

“Good.” He grins and gives you a sweet kiss. “Next time you have a bad dream you let me know.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You gonna solve every bad dream with a good fuck for the rest of our lives?”

Jungkook laughs in the way he only does around you and your heart blooms.

“Sure, if that’s what it takes. Anything for you.”

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prettyboypistol · 7 months

Text

How the TF2 Mercs De-stress/Manage Anger

Scout

Actually a stereotypical movie bad boy about it. Cigarette, batting cage, and punching bags his emotions out. Shouts at people and shoves them out of his way, throat closed up in welled up emotions, his lungs refusing to give him air as the tightness of slamming against the metaphorical wall of frustration feels like it kills him inside. You know what? Being so tired you can barely register the world around? It's better than feeling like an elephant trapped in a jam jar.

Soldier

Works out and represses the expressions unless he's in battle. That's actually where he gets most of his energy. He thinks of all the shit that pissed him off or made him feel small and uses that flicker of rage as the start of the firecracker of a soldier on the field. Doesn't talk about his emotions much and doesn't see any need to. Yeah, a few drinks in and he gets sappy, but that's normal. Anger usually gets metal pipes bent or people's faces bashed in. Usually both.

Pyro

Expresses anger and stress as overexcitabiliy and hyperactivity. A constant overstimulation mode. Referencing the comics, Pyro won't hesitate to kill a bitch knowingly if they are pissed off. They're the reason it's called a "crime of passion". High spikes of anger followed by a low simmer of calmness. Actually pretty good about deep breaths when it comes to mild annoyances or daily stress, but the over the top bullshit absolutely gets an over the top reaction.

Heavy

Intimidation and powerplay is the name of Heavy's game. Sharp glares and a clear body message of "I will snap your spine if you breathe near me." This comes from his time in the gulag, when he had to keep himself and his family safe. Looking murderous when upset had a lot of advantages. When it actually comes to relieving the anger, he's an isolationist. Def thinks over the situation over and over again as he distracts himself with one of his hobbies. Usually not reading because his mind wanders off too much to focus on the pages.

Engineer

Hyperactive workaholic. He locks himself in his workshop and doesn't leave until he makes something either revolutionary or a man made horror you could only fathom in your nightmares. Whatever, he can sell it to the Administrator as a torture device. Who cares. Engie isn't much of a talker so much as he is a ranter. He grumbles and shouts to himself in a one way conversation as he tightens that one bolt that gave him trouble. Only once has he dented one of his sentries with his wrench when the energy was too much to comprehend.

Demoman

As is his usual solution, he drinks. He drinks and he talks. It doesn't matter to who or even if people are with him. Talking and bitching helps him to understand the situation, get his feelings validated, and develop more points of view. If that doesn't work, there's always testing his explosives. That release of emotions as he watches the burn pile explode is cathartic in a way. Pyro usually joins in and watches the fire, giving Demo someone to talk to.

Sniper

Also an isolationist, but you couldn't tell either way unless you pissed him off while talking to him. If it's just him, then you wouldn't even know that motherfucker was milliseconds away from starting a fight. Mutters to himself softly, barely able to hear the words himself as he shoots at sodacans and empty food containers all lined up by his van. Long drives while music plays in the background is one of his guilty pleasures when he can get away with it. If you ask what's bothering him he'll have a 50/50 between shrugging and saying a dismissive "it's nothing, just woke up wrong" or will barely explain it, but get the just of it accurately.

Spy

Tries to work through it physically, not emotionally. Man's has never talked about his emotions in his life and you won't make him start now. Usually very bitchy when something pisses him off, and his weapon of choice is personal insults. It's a funny thing really. He needs to feel superior by putting others down because the anger and stress makes him feel weak. There is only one good way to snap him out of a bad mood: casually praise him. "Nice work, Spy." "I knew I could count on you." "Thanks Spy, you're a lifesaver." Are instant soothers. It's nice to be acknowledged.

Medic

Workaholic worse than Engie. This man is really out here about to create an elderitch horror because he stubbed his toe and spilled his coffee. Strained smiles and snide comments are his language when he's had a bad day. If someone directly irritates him, that man is a solid 6'1 minimum and is built. He will and continue to physically intimidate people. Has violent fantasies as a cope.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 x reader #fanfiction #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #scout tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #sniper x reader #tf2 headcannons #prettyboy pistol

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starfxkr · 1 month

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Now that we have opened the door to lamb reader I wanna ask about the girls kinks like shared I am sure they all like a little bit of pet play to varying degrees but also their individual kinks too I feel like lamb would be the nastiest being down for everything "wanna cum in my food and have me drink/eat it okayy"

okay individual kinks!!!

kitten - predator/prey kink for sure. she likes when jj chases her around like he's gonna hurt her. which adds to her gun kink/knife kink she just likes being scared it's so strange. because jj likes to scare her since he's rarely in that position. she's also a perpetually sleepy girl so somno for sure there's nothing she loves more than waking up to jj getting ready to fuck her. realized she liked bondage after helping jj with different fishing knots and it made her weird. omorashi kink for sure because once jj wasn't listening when she said she had to pee and she ended up liking it :/. also likes gagging on his dick until it feels like she may puke. once joked her so hard she passed out while they were play wrestling and she woke up giggling. has a crazy breeding kink. also has a daddy kink but won't admit to it.

bunny - has a dumbification but strictly while fucking, she sinks into subspace the second easiest. daddy kink out the fuckin wazoo. like it gets real Freudian real fast. she gets off on herself too honestly, she likes to watch herself masturbate or if she's fucking rafe in the mirror she's looking at her more than him. breeding kink but doesn't actually wanna get pregnant yet. very into public sex she has no shame about it at alllll. don't know the exact name of it but she loves when it feels like she's gotta coerce rafe into fucking her. like yes he's bigger and more imposing but he'll refuse to touch her so she become petulant and demanding that's her favorite game.

foxy - exhibitionist!!! she fucks in public all the time and she's almost gotten caught with pope many times. proud sapiosexual she was feeling the fuck outta that nerd y'all im so serious. kinda has a corruption kink where she's corrupting pope. very very mild sadism she likes to tease pope for being so into her. is into choking. she is the choker. tied as themost into dry humping with pup because she likes laughing at pope!!! she's actually a very sick girl like what is her problem LMAO

puppy - breeding kink so bad she's had a couple scares. voyeurism I think she's a weirdo who likes to watch john b without doing anything she's just obsessed with him. daddy kink for sure but probably the mildest one!!!. likes being taken care of not dumbification per say but when she's able to shut her brain off and let john b handle things. really really into dry humping she prefers it to sex sometimes it drives him absolutely insane

lamb - lots of weird religious shit. she used to hump her pillow staring straight into jesus's eyes now she humps her man doing the same thing. I agree about the cum eating when you're raised on "this is my flesh this is my blood" it makes you weird. has a humiliation kink she likes the feeling of shame that comes with sex. unintentional worship kink she views blowjobs the same as praying bc she's on her knees anyways. likes being spit on. tentatively likes being choked but doesnt know how to go about it. loves to be smacked/spanked she used to get in trouble in Sunday school on purpose because it made her feel like someone cared enough to correct her behavior. likes orgasm denial because she used to never be able to actually cum so she's learned to like the feeling of just simmering in it

#✨.txt #kitten!reader #bunny!reader #lamb!reader #fox!reader #puppy!reader #❣️ anon

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kitchenwitchtingss · 9 months

Text

FEEL BETTER CHICKEN SOUP

Today I woke up and felt a little ill. So I decided to make myself some good old feel-better chicken soup.

Being mixed, I've always grown up with two different versions of chicken noodle soup, so eventually when I grew up I just combined the two! Hispanic chicken soup usually uses tomatoes sazón, adobo, chicken thigh, lemon, and rice, but American chicken soup usually uses noodles, chicken breast, plain broth, salt, pepper, and celery.

So here's one way to twist the two together.

This recipe is pretty easy to make when you don't have a lot of energy because there is about an hour and a half of cooking where you can just sit down and relax while doing it.

3-4 Chicken Thighs or Legs (I prefer bone-in because it has more flavor and is more tender.)

3 tbsp Garlic honey (works well if fermented, it's fun and easy to make your own!) - Healing, Protection, Purification

One Goya Sazon Packet

1 Bay Leaf - Protection, Healing, Purification

1/2 Cup Baby Carrots (You could just chop up a regular carrot too lol)

1 yellow Onion

2 tsp grated Ginger - Cleansing, Energy, Healing

Half a bag of egg noodles (You could also use rice) - Longevity

4 cups chicken broth

2 green onions

Chicken Seasoning:

4 cloves garlic - Protection, Healing

1/8 cup chopped parsley - Protection, Strength

1/2 tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp adobo seasoning

1 tbsp thyme - Healing, Abundance, Health, Prosperity

2 tsp basil flakes - Abundance, Prosperity

1 tsp red pepper flakes

Salt and pepper - Banish Negative Energy

Juice of half a lemon - For Healing

Hot Scallion Oil:

2 tbsp oil

1 tbsp green onion

DIRECTIONS:

Blend the chicken seasonings listed above in a blender or in a mortar and pestle. Whichever you prefer. Rub on chicken and fry in a pot with oil until each side is browned. About 4 minutes on each side.

Add in yellow onion, ginger, and garlic honey, and cook until soft. Add in carrots and chicken stock. Add in Bay leaf and goya season packet. Cook for about an hour.

Add in green onions, and taste if the soup needs more seasoning. If it does, season to taste. Simmer for another 20 minutes.

When the chicken is tender enough to where it is falling off the bone, remove the chicken from the bone and discard the bones and bay leaf.

Add in egg noodles and cook for 7-9 minutes with the lid on, until the noodles are cooked.

Heat up 2 tbsp of oil until very hot. Add in green onion and cook for a little under a minute.

Laddel soup into a bowl and top with a spoonful of scallions and scallion oil.

Enjoy!

Editors Note: I'll never understand how people take such aesthetic photos of food loll.

#soups #recipes #witchy #kitchen witch #magick #kitchen witch recipes #witchblr #kitchen magick #witch #food #witches #cooking #savory #foodblogger #foodpics #modern witch #comfort food #recipe #cottagecore

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

Buck doesn't even question it when he pulls up to Eddie's house instead of his own apartment block. He has the go-ahead to return to work, but for some reason, the relieved joy he'd expected has been buried under a confusing mudslide of emotions that make his head hurt if he looks at them too closely.

He tells himself he's at Eddie's because he's returning the favour, paying him back for last year when Eddie had showed up on his doorstep with a six pack, a grin and his transfer back to the 118 paperwork.

Buck doesn't have a six pack, or a grin, or a vague date for his return because he hadn't even told Bobby about his cardiologist appointment today for fear of the news awaiting him.

But he knocks on Eddie's door anyway because he may be just Buck, but that's enough. Its always been enough at the Diaz house, and maybe that's what he should be appreciating after everything.

The smile Eddie gives him when the door cracks open is enough to ease most of the tightness in his chest. He remembers a similar smile two nights ago, the way it had blossomed so softly on Eddie's face, how it had lit up his eyes and rosied the apples of his cheeks.

Yeah, he's enough here.

"Dr Salazar told me to ask you how her diagnosis of repression was holding up," Buck says, pushing past Eddie, eager for the warmth of the living room. "She told me you'd know what that meant."

"You really need to learn to say hello," Eddie grumbles good-naturedly as Buck drops onto the couch with a blissful sigh. Buck cranes his head in time to watch Eddie's face do something complicated. "Wait, what'd she say?"

"She asked how her repression diagnosis was going," Buck sounds out slowly.

"Motherfucker," Eddie hisses to himself. Buck watches rapt as his cheeks fill with colour.

"Yeah, do I get to know what that means?"

Eddie meets his eyes, and Buck wonders if she was a bit too hasty in her dismissal of him because his heart does something worrying in his chest at the dizzying intensity of emotion on Eddie's face.

"Not yet," he murmurs. It sounds like a promise.

Buck swallows past the lump in his throat.

"Wait, you had an appointment today?" Eddie drops onto the coffee table in front of him, a beautiful concern simmering in his eyes. Buck flushes at the attention. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Buck nods, "I am more than okay. In fact, I'm so okay that I am free to return to work whenever I please."

"Okay..." Eddie squints at him. "Why do I feel like you're about to make our quitting the 118 score two-one?"

"I'm not quitting the 118," Buck sighs. "Not again."

"But?" Eddie prods gently.

"But," Buck drags a hand down his face, "I don't know if I'm quite ready to come back yet." He thinks he must be imagining the slight sag of Eddie's shoulders, can't help but wonder if its disappointment or relief if he wasn't imagining it.

"Its a big step after something like this," Eddie concedes.

"After your shoulder, you got cleared with Frank one day, and had a return to work date the next."

"Yeah, and we all remember how that turned out," Eddie snorts.

"Fair enough."

"Its natural to take a bit of time when you aren't ignoring absolutely every warning sign your body is sending you," Eddie tells him. "Bobby will hold your place for you, you know that. Hell, he'd hold it for a decade if he had to. And I might be a bit bummed without my partner around, but I'll live if its so he can take care of himself." Eddie's voice is unbearably soft in a way that makes Buck's skin crawl, its been doing that a lot around Eddie since he woke up. "Besides, I'm sure he'll be drinking my beer and crashing on my couch most nights anyway." Rolling his eyes, Buck huffs a laugh.

"It just feels weird, you know?" He shrugs a shoulder. "After my leg, I fought so hard to get back."

"Yeah, I remember," Eddie says dryly.

"Shut up." Buck shakes his head. "I fought so hard to come back and now I'm being told I can and I just..."

"It feels too easy?"

"Yeah."

"Buck, you're so used to fighting." Eddie shuffles a little closer, and Buck does his best not to flinch at the spark that jolts through him when their knees knock together. "For everything. Ever since you were a kid, you were fighting for everything everyone else just had handed to them. Its hard to shake off a lifelong habit." Eddie tilts his head to catch Buck's eye, he was unaware they'd wandered away from Eddie's determined face. "But last time was different. You know that. You were different."

And Buck knows what he means. That Buck seems so drastically different to the Buck he is now, whatever software update he's at. The Buck who tied his worth to firefighting, who had no identity outside of it, who felt like he was always one step away from being left behind.

But he's also not convinced he's all that different. Firefighting is still his life. He has maybe one or two friends outside of the 118 family. And, yes, he knows that they're a family now, knows that not one of them would leave him behind. The past week has been proof of that. But who is he outside of the firehouse?

"I don't think I really know who I am when I'm not fighting fires," Buck whispers to the carpet.

It feels a lot like a shock of lightning when Eddie uses his pointer finger to nudge Buck's chin up.

"You're Buck," Eddie nods, conviction dripping from him.

And that's enough?

"You're an amazing firefighter, yes," Eddie's hand is still on his chin. "But you're an even better brother to Maddie and Hen and Chim. You're an incredible uncle to an incredible niece. You're the best of friends. You're Christopher's..." Here, Eddie pauses. Buck's heart thumps. "You're Christopher's," Eddie says decisively. "But more than all of that, you're Buck. And maybe that's all you need to be."

Buck grits his teeth when the familiar sting of tears has him squeezing his eyes shut. He takes a few steadying breaths, the ones the lung specialist had taught him when he could finally keep his eyes open for more than ten minutes. With every expansion of his lungs, it feels like his heart grows a little bigger too.

The bravery hits him out of nowhere.

"To Maddie, Hen and Chim, huh?" he asks, meeting Eddie's eyes. "What am I to you, Eddie?"

"Not yet," Eddie says softly. "Not just yet."

And Buck thinks he doesn't mind waiting for this answer.

#sami rambles #i just wanted to write about dr salazar because she's the loml #but then it spiralled as my writing always does #911 spoilers #911 show #911 fox #911 fic #911 fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic #buck x eddie fanfic

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willsimpforanyone · 1 month

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nico x nb or female reader smut... please :(( i can't find any anywhere and i love your connor stuff i've read them like a 100 times :(((

i'm so glad u like my connor stuff! he's a lot more popular than i realised he was lmao

this is nico with a nonbinary reader, obviously both of them are adults because they have their own flat and i'm literally jealous

---------------------------------

Nico's hair has grown longer, I think to myself. Black and very slightly curly, spreading out over the pillow and easily within reach.

Far, far too tempting.

Cautiously, I reach my hand over the pillow and slip my fingers through his strands. They're silky-soft, and I twist some of it round my finger, smiling softly.

I keep going, combing through more and more of his hair until I'm gently scraping my nails over his scalp and untangling knots as carefully as I can. I'm so absorbed in my task that I don't notice a pair of dark eyes sleepily blinking open, black eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of his hair being played with.

"What're you doing?"

I have a small heart attack, instinctively smacking Nico on the shoulder in surprise. "Jesus- Nico! What the fuck?"

He laughs quietly, rubbing his shoulder where I hit him. "I literally just woke up, what is your problem?"

"You scared me!" I hiss, low and slightly raspy. "I didn't know you were awake."

He laughs again, reaching out and pawing at my hips, pulling me closer under the bedsheets. Nose to nose now, he blinks at me sleepily. "You didn't answer my question," he murmurs. "What were you doing?"

Slightly shy, I flush pink and reach one hand up to move some hair out his eyes. "I may," I whisper. "Have been playing with your hair."

"You don't sound very certain," Nico smirks, thumb absently rubbing circles up and down my ribs. I roll my eyes but grin, continuing to stroke his hair.

"It was just so pretty," I mumble, half hiding my face in the pillow. "You're a pretty guy with pretty hair, sue me."

He laughs quietly, leaning over and kissing my quickly. "I'm pretty, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." I hide my face in his neck this time, playfully tugging at the hair at the base of his head in retaliation. I freeze as I feel his breath hitch, and a wicked smile spreads over my lips.

I repeat the action, a little harder this time, and from Nico's throat crawls a moan that he clearly tried to stifle.

"Oh, that's interesting..." Three times the charm, just to check...

Pulling my head back from the crook of his neck, I look into his eyes, tugging his hair again and seeing his pale skin flare pink as he bites his lip, eyes darting anywhere but mine. Gently, I ease one of my legs between his, my hands running down his body to bring his hips closer to mine.

"Baby?" I whisper, smile playing at my lips. "Is this what you want?"

He flushes brighter, grumbling out his words. "...well I didn't know it was until about four seconds ago."

God, his voice is still sleepy and low, defenses down in this bubble of morning light and sheets and skin.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes." I dip my head back into his neck, this time deliberately to press my lips along his skin. One hand sneaks back up into his hair, tangling my fingers into his long black locks.

I lightly suck at the point just below his ear, pulling gently at his hair, and Nico jerks his hips forward, a soft gasp breathed into my ear.

"That's it," I hum against his neck, tongue darting out and over his earlobe. "Keep going, sweetheart."

With the little encouragement, Nico's hands curl around my hips, slowly starting to grind himself against my thigh. His movements are slightly unsure, but I can feel his heartbeat pounding under my lips and I smile.

My fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. I can hear him panting slightly in my ear and I feel heat simmering deliciously under my skin. I murmur soft encouragements into his ear, rocking my hips against him and feeling his cock twitch to life in his pyjama pants.

Mouth watering, I suck the faintest marks into the side of his throat. I manipulate his head, using his hair to pull his head back so I can lave over more of his skin. He gasps loudly as his head is forced back, hips sputtering against me and fingers digging into the flesh at my waist.

"Good?" I ask softly, words breathed into his ear.

Nodding, Nico stammers out a 'y-y-es-' in the softest, sweetest voice I've ever heard from him. Evidently, sleepy Nico is okay with showing some vulnerability. It's painfully adorable and I coo softly in his ear.

"Use my thigh, baby, you look so pretty like this." I scrape my nails over his scalp, loving the low moan that spills from his lips.

His hips get steadily faster, rutting firmly against my leg as he pants, squeezing his eyes shut. My hand grips at his hair, pulling his head further back so my lips can trail under his chin and over the other side of his neck, whispering praise and endearments into his skin.

His breath hitches as I roll us slightly so I'm on top of him, kneeling with one leg still between his, pushing firmly against his cock as he keeps grinding against me.

He looks like a vision, pale cheeks blushing red, soft lips parted and brow slightly furrowed with his eyes firmly closed, so focused on the feeling of pleasure building up low in his stomach. I press my lips against his, capturing him in a firm kiss just because he looks so gorgeous.

"Look at you, so needy," I tease, ghosting the words over his lips. Nico whines, digging his nails into my waist in protest. I laugh lightly. "Okay, okay, not at all needy, this is a perfectly reasonable reaction to having your hair pulled."

He opens his eyes to scowl up at me, and for a split second I remember that this is the son of Hades I have underneath me.

"Got it, I'll shut up."

One hand still firmly in his hair, I use my other hand to hold his hips, helping him ride my thigh. I glance down to see a damp patch on Nico's pyjama pants, precum staining the fabric and I have to swallow down the sudden flood of saliva that fills my mouth. Later, definitely later.

His hips start rocking faster and harder, stomach muscles tensing and I curl my fingers in his hair, experimentally yanking harder than i have before.

"F-fuck-!" Nico swears loudly, head flying back with his back arching slightly, rutting his cock hard against my leg, the material of his pants providing delicious friction. "Mm- I'm gonna... gods above, yes..."

It takes a well-timed yank and a few more thrusts to my leg to have him coming in his pants, warmth and wetness spreading through the material and soaking my leg. He gasps, one hand slapping over his mouth to muffle his noises, the other wrapping around my arm and gripping tightly.

I let him keep using me, grinding against my leg until he's finished. I duck my head to litter soft, warm kisses over his face, smiling and incredibly pleased with myself.

"You okay, Neeks?" I murmur, brushing my lips over his nose.

It takes a moment for his muscles to stop spasming and his breathing to even out, but eventually Nico moves his hand away from his mouth to reveal a small smile.

"Uh huh," he sighs, blinking up at me in a post-orgasm haze. "'m good, very good."

Releasing his hair from my grip, I stroke over his cheek and kiss him sweetly. "Good. Might want to get changed."

Looking down, he groans at the rapidly cooling, cum-stained pyjamas he's now wearing. "Ugh, gross." He looks up at me, grinning sleepily. "You're getting me new pyjamas, by the way. Off you go, the closet is there. You turn me on, you get me off, you deal with the consequences."

I roll my eyes but grin in return, reluctantly leaving the warm bed for the closet. "You're so lucky I love you."

---------------------------------------

was this good? did i write a good smut? i haven't written in so long i don't know if this is good. anyway, thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoyed!

#nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo imagines #nico di angelo smut #nonbinary!reader #nico x nonbinary!reader #nico x reader

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honeyedmiller · 7 months

Text

Something In the Orange | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, post-outbreak!Joel, takes place in Jackson, tiny bit of angst if u squint, implied smut, Ellie and Joel are on good terms (cus I said so okay? okay d:), established relationship, age gap (unmentioned), pet names, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: you and joel enjoy a peaceful autumn morning together.

just felt sappy and soft bc autumn is finally here (still waiting for the weather to cool down in socal though lol) but here's a little one shot full of comfort and fluff

When you were little, you never understood why your grandparents enjoyed sitting out on their front porch for hours on end.

Now that you’re older, wiser, and the apocalyptic world seemed to have consumed your soul, you got it.

There was something in the simplicity of just sitting and enjoying nature as it was. You hadn’t been granted that luxury of simplicity in twenty years.

Now, you sit on the front porch of your shared home in your lover’s flannel and a pair of sweats adorning your body, blanket wrapped over your shoulders, and a hot cup of coffee simmering in your hand.

It was peaceful. Autumn was here, and she greeted Jackson wholly with hues of oranges, reds and browns, golden sunlight rising just above the horizon at six forty-five in the morning.

You knew the sun’d wake Joel soon enough. You left him his favorite mug on the counter and the rest of the coffee in the old coffee pot Maria and Tommy graciously gifted you two when you moved into your new home.

You, Ellie and Joel were still adjusting to Jackson. Adjusting to the community, adjusting to not having to scavenge for food, adjusting to the thought of not having to watch your back every five seconds, and adjusting to the fact that you were safe. Joel was here, you were here, you had a home, a comfy and warm bed, and you had safety.

Something you never in your life thought you’d take for granted, until the first day of the outbreak. Safety wasn’t something you had in twenty years.

Of course, you felt safe with Joel. You knew he’d do anything in his power to make sure you and Ellie were alright.

You also knew adjusting to this new life in Jackson was hitting him the hardest. Ellie’d made a few friends by now, slowly getting into the groove of things around here. You’d spent a lot of time with Maria and the newest Miller baby, helping around the community in any way that you could. Joel went on patrol with Tommy and a few others frequently just to keep the community safe.

But, in the early morning hours, Joel’d be drenched in sweat and writhe unknowingly in his sleep until you woke him up from whatever terrible nightmare he’d been having, soothing him back to sleep as you brushed your fingers through his damp curls and he clung onto you for dear life.

The first couple of months were the roughest for him. If he wasn’t having those nightmares, he’d be tossing and turning, wide awake until the sun came up. He was bone-tired and grumpy all of the time.

Luckily, things seemed to get a bit better over time. You both didn’t jolt awake and the slightest little sound anymore. You both got to sleep in. No one had to stay on watch while the other slept. You could both also enjoy intimate moments in peace now, too.

There was no rushing. No need for a quickie (unless Joel was feeling friskier than usual around you when he’d downed a few glasses of whiskey and consensually had to have his way with you in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison). You both could enjoy each other in all glory. It was all slow kisses and the taste of pine scented skin and the slow drag of fingertips over each other’s bodies and fulfilling each other’s despair for one another.

Slowing down and enjoying your newfound life in Jackson with Joel and Ellie had been everything you’ve wished for since you three left the Boston QZ. You’d all been through hell and back, and you finally had paradise to live in.

You looked out ahead of you, seeing the red and orange leaves swirl around in the light breeze. It was a colder morning, with fresh dewdrops on the grass and the smell of earth wafting around you.

You heard the front door of the house open, seeing Joel appear with slightly messy hair, body adorned in plaid pajama pants and a black sweater. He looked so handsome even in the dawn of the day. He held his favorite coffee mug in hand, padding over to where you sat. You scooted over for him, the soreness between the apex of your thighs making you wince a bit.

Joel’d made the sweetest love to you the previous night and into the early hours of the morning, whispering to you how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to have you.

Joel was never a man of many words and surely had a hard time saying his emotions, but for you, he had no problem showing you how much he really loved you.

“Mornin’, honey.” Joel murmured as he sat down next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders as he pulled you into his body. Joel’s body radiated so much warmth that the slight chill you felt was instantly gone as you snuggled into him. You hummed as you took a sip of your coffee, resting your head on his shoulder afterward. He turned his head down to you to kiss your temple, letting his lips linger for a few seconds.

“Good morning, my love.” You say, planting your free hand on his knee.

You and Joel loved to spend your days off close to each other, enjoying each other’s presence—even if it was doused in pure silence. Just being by his side or in his arms was the quiet reassurance that kept you going.

Joel’s grip tightened around your shoulder as his thumb brushed your flannel-clad arm in a soothing, back and forth motion.

“‘S a beautiful mornin’ out.” Joel’s voice is soft and steady; a voice he only reserved for you and Ellie. He was brooding and constantly sported a harsh brow while towering over most residents in Jackson, but with you, the only lines on his face that appeared were his crow’s feet when you made him smile or laugh.

“It is. ‘M so happy we can finally just do this.” You sigh, sipping your coffee once more.

“Do what, darlin’?” He asks, using a free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He kissed your forehead tenderly this time, then your nose. He smiled softly down at you as he awaited your explanation.

“Just… sit. In peace. Enjoy each other’s company. It’s all almost so… normal, being here with you. ‘S finally starting to feel like home. Our home, Joel.”

He squeezed your arm the tiniest bit before finally bringing his lips down to yours. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste.

“You are my home, baby. Wherever you go, I’m there with you. I love you.” Joel’s voice is just above a whisper, as if he said his words any louder it would ruin the sacredness of them.

“I love you too.”

He brings you in for another tender kiss before pulling apart from you. The sunlight caressed Joel’s tan skin with an ethereal glow, allowing you to bask in how handsome he was. It was rare when he wouldn’t shy away from your adoring stare. He’d always grumble that he wasn’t much to look at or to ‘quit starin’, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

Now that the days were shorter and nights were longer, you took advantage of just simply admiring him while the daylight encapsulated his beautiful features. Full, brownish-gray hair, beautiful brown eyes that looked like honey in the sunlight, tan skin that was peppered with freckles and tiny scars, a strong nose that fit his face perfectly, a (now) neatly groomed mustache with a sparse beard to tie it together.

“Quit starin’ at me like that, darlin’.” Joel chuckled, shaking his head.

“What, I can’t admire my man?” Joel’s heart always skipped a beat when you threw any endearment his way, but you calling him your man was the icing on the cake.

A tinge of a blush dusted his cheekbones, and you grinned as you brought a hand up to his soft hair.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Miller.” Your teased, and he rolled his eyes while shaking his head.

“Shut up.” He mumbled playfully against your lips, pressing his lips to yours once more.

“Yeah? Why don’t you make me, cowboy?” You quirked a brow as you moved your body back, actively avoiding Joel’s kisses of affection. He grinned at you and set his now-empty coffee mug on the wooden planks of the porch beneath you both, wrapping an arm around your waist as he buried his face into your neck. He began to pepper kisses along your pulse point, making you laugh. He nipped at your skin in a couple of spots, shuffling your bodies so his hips were slotted between your legs.

It wasn’t like him to show this much PDA on the front porch of your home where a bystander could easily see you both, but you loved that he didn’t seem to have a care in the world at the moment.

His face hovered over yours once more, knuckles brushing against your collarbone and down your sternum. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your hands cup his face gently, thumbs swiping over his cheekbones as you stared at him lovingly. You turn your head to the side in the slightest to admire the sun now adorning the red and orange leaves on the ground with rays of gold, giving the atmosphere around you an orange glow.

Autumn had always been your favorite season. It reminded you of a simpler time when you were younger. Your grandmother would bake ghost sugar cookies with you and watch Halloweentown every time it came on TV, and your parents would take you trick-or-treating until you finally decided that you were “too old” at the age of thirteen. Oh, how you wished you weren’t in a hurry to grow up.

It reminded you that there’s beauty even in an untimely ending. That’s what most things in this apocalyptic life were: untimely endings.

But you were here, in Jackson, safe with the love of your life right above you. You turned your head back to him, kissing him once more as the rigid air chilled you once again.

“Take me to bed, Joel. Please.” You whisper, and he gets up from above you slowly, holding out his hand to you as you made your way into your home, needy fingers gripping at warm skin and teeth colliding as you both desperately kissed one another trying to make it upstairs to your bedroom.

When you finally did, you both relished in the peacefulness this life in Jackson had to offer, the early October sun shining through your window as you both found home within each other once again.

tag list: @pamasaur ; @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin ; @cool-iguana ; @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @amanitacowboy ; @worhols ; @planet-marz1

#joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #post outbreak!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller blurb #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller story #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot

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mncxbe · 7 months

Text

Sweather weather♡

𝑪𝒉ū𝒚𝒂, 𝑷𝒐𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ implied smut♡

A little drabble that's been on my mind for a few days. Hope you like it♡♡ ++ send some requests cuz I'm so out of ideas rn

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒃𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆/ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒕~ 𝑷𝒐𝒆

Cool raindrops streamed down the bedroom windows as you gazed in the distance, watching the mist slowly raise above the tall trees. Although it was only the beginning of September the leaves started to wither, changing from fresh green to deep yellows and orange.

From the other side of the mattress Poe groaned softly. "Good morning love" he said in a mellowy voice. "How'd you sleep?"

"Really well actually" you replied.

The only sounds piercing through the silence of the room were the occasional chirps of birds and the ruffling sound of bedsheets as Poe shifted closer to you. One of his arms wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

"I'm glad to hear that. I slept well too. Had a great dream"

No matter how many times you woke up next to him, his deep morning voice always worked wonders on you.

"Really?" you asked playfully, rolling your hips against his own "Tell me about it"

Poe's grip on your hip tightened, nails slightly digging into your flesh "Well" he began "It started exactly like this: us in bed on a cool autumn morning..."

His words drifted off as he placed a kiss on your neck.

"And how did it continue" you added, tone laced with impatience.

Your boyfriend was painfully aware of the way your breath hitched and the goosebumps tingling the skin of your arms and neck. He lot out a low chuckle, not ceasing his saccharine affections.

"How about I show you hm?"

His hand slipped under the hem of your tank top, tracing a line up to your collarbones and you shivered in response; a warm, familiar feeling bubbling up inside you.

"I'd very much like that" you said, lips stretcing in that beautiful smile Poe adored as you indulged in his gentle touch.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆/ 𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒛 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆~ 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂

You'd arrived home the previous night when your boyfriend was fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber by a few glasses of his favourite wine.

But now it was morning and you were carefully tip-toeing around your apartment, careful not to wake Chuya up. A gentle simmer, the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air, soft autumn light filtering through the high windows of the condo in shades of cool. Home.

You were pouring coffee is a chunky cup when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in a tight embrace.

"Welcome home sweetheart" said your boyfriend in a sleepy voice, hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

A playful giggle rolled past your lips and you smiled. "It's good to see you Chu. Hope I didn't wake you up."

"Nah, don't worry. I don't mind it"

His arms tightened around your waist, causing you to spill a few drops of the hot liquid on the marble counter.

"Aish be careful. I almost burnt myself"

You reached for the kitchen towel but before you got the chance to grab it, Chuya spun you around and grabbed your hips, hoisting you up on the counter. His hands came to rest atop your thighs, a sluggish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Don't care baby. I missed ya."

Heartfelt giggles, warm smiles and chit-chat; Chuya's lips brushing against your jawline, peppering feathery kisses along the expanse of your neck. It felt good, so good to be with him again.

"Say darling, wanna go back to bed? It's still quite early." he spoke, his voice a tender whisper.

"Sure babe. Lemme just grab my coffee ok? I want some sugar in it."

As you got off the counter your boyfriend licked his fingers- sinking them in the small sugar container behind you- then brought them to your lips. You instinctively opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his digits inside; the saccharine crystals melting like snowflakes on your tongue.

Chuya hummed in satisfaction, removing his slender fingers from your mouth "Sweet enough for you?" he teased before leaning in to press a kiss to your sugary lips.

You only nod in response, cold fingers entangling in your boyfriend's scarlet locks as you deepened the kiss. Soon enough you both returned to the bedroom; the steaming cup of coffee left to cool down on the counter; completely forgotten.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #bsd smut #chuya x reader #bsd chuya #bsd poe #poe x reader #poe bsd #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #poe bungou stray dogs

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 7 months

Text

Just a lil update for Complicated ;)

Part 1.5 ❤️

Warnings; Angst, little sprinkling of fluff. Eddie is kind of a dick, confusing feelings.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

Vote on part one for who you want this story to be about. Eddie or Steve? 👀

❤️

Things were a little awkward after Eddie walked in on you and Steve. He was quieter than normal, lost in thought.

"I just never thought you would be Steve's type you know, like at all" Eddie shrugs as he smokes a blunt, the two of you are hanging out before you go to Family Video to pick a movie for the week.

You freeze. The comment feels like a slap across the face, not Steve's type... Did he think you were ugly or something? Was that what he was implying?

"What do you mean? You think I'm not pretty enough for Steve Harrington?" Eddie's eyes widen and he nearly drops the blunt, swearing when it burns his fingers.

"What? No! I mean... Shit, I just mean that he's still into Nancy and she's all uh preppy, kinda popular and shit...I'm not explaining myself well huh?"

"You think?" you mutter, still hurt and try to focus on the movie but you can feel the tears building up in your eyes.

"You're pretty, of course you're pretty sweetheart, of course Steve would like you but come on! I like the guy a lot but could you be anymore generic with picking the popular, pretty boy?"

Okay, now you're pissed.

"Excuse me! You're dating Chrissy, yes she's sweet and all but she was the queen of Hawkins High and you call me generic. Really Eddie?" he blushes and begins to munch some popcorn.

"Look, I'm just saying. I just thought you'd go for like Gareth or somebody like that" you shake your head and grab your coat.

No, I have to be in love with you which fucking sucks because I'm never ever going to be noticed by you.

"We better pick a movie before the store closes, come on" You need some air before you really lose it at Eddie.

💕

Eddie is mumbling apologies as he follows you into the store but you are to be busy feeling nervous at seeing Steve.

You haven't seen him since the morning you two woke up together and you're anxious to get this meeting over with.

Robin looks between you and Steve and grins.

"Steve! look who's here?" Steve meets your gaze and you give him a little wave and Eddie goes to pick the movie.

"Hi" you say and try to sound as casual as possible. Memories from the night flit through your mind and it's hard not to show how flustered you feel.

"Hey honey, sorry I haven't seen you in a little while. Works been crazy and just a lot of shit going on" He's blushing and it's adorable.

"Steve, we're adults, we had a really hot night together and we shouldn't be embarrassed by it. Like I said, I really enjoyed myself"

He relaxes.

"Me too. You okay? it's just you looked pretty tense when you came in" shrugging you attempt to downplay it, even though you're still hurting.

"Eddie said he didn't think I'd be your type. It kinda stung a little bit" he frowns and gently touches your arm.

The minute he makes contact with your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin, it feels like you're on fire, tingles erupt all over your body.

"That's a lot of shit. You're beautiful honey"

Fuck. Steve's gaze meets yours and there's such an intensity to it. Every part of you aches to close the distance between you both.

Suddenly, there's a slam on the table as Eddie places down the vhs tapes. His eyes are stormy, a scowl on his face.

"Are you two going to sit looking gaga over each other all night or can we get these to go?" Steve blinks stunned and his soft expression hardens.

"What the fuck is your problem Munson?" he asks Eddie, tone simmering with annoyance.

"Nothing, don't have a problem Harrington" he snaps and Robin takes over the exchange her eyes wide as she looks at Eddie to Steve.

"Enough! I'm fed up of your shit tonight Eddie. Go have a movie night alone until you stop being a dick" You tell him and he scoffs.

"Fine, I'll just ask Chrissy - you know, my girlfriend over instead" the ice in his tone confuses you and you feel the tears come again but will them away.

He's not going to see you cry. The jackass.

"Don't talk to her like that" Steve growls but Eddie leaves without replying, slamming the door on his way out.

💕💕

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x y/n

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wyattjohnston · 9 months

Text

make it weird - jack hughes

summary: kat's vacation gets gatecrashed by the one guy she cannot stand.

word count: 2,140

note: this is for @torontoflames as part of the summer fic exchange 2k23. i've tried my hand at enemies-to-lovers and i hope you enjoy! @laurenairay and @matthewtkachuk are gems and helped me with this a lot <3

There were few sounds in the world Kat found more infuriating than Jack’s laugh. Intellectually she knew that it was a perfectly fine laugh, nothing unusual or grating about it; that didn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her skull when it filled the room.

Had he ever done anything specific to warrant such a visceral reaction? Kat honestly couldn’t remember. She was sure there was something at some point that had laid the groundwork for her ever-simmering hatred even if she could no longer recall.

More pressing than his laugh at that exact moment, though, was his presence on the once-in-a-lifetime Greek Island Vacation that Kat had been dreaming about since she was fifteen. It had all been going to plan with no setbacks and no surprises until two weeks out when she heard Jack had purchased flights on a whim.

Still, Kat tried to smile across at Sarah, who was furiously trying to butter her toast before it got too cold and was completely unaware that Kat’s grip on her spoon was leaving indentations in her hand.

“About time you two woke up,” Sarah joked, tilting her head up to meet Nico’s lips before he sat down, leaving Jack to take the empty seat beside Kat.

Sarah knew all about Kat’s dislike of Jack—in fact, she’d forced Nico to be the one to break the news—and it was an open secret at the table, so Kat continued to glare holes in Sarah’s head, getting more intense every time Jack opened his mouth.

When the vacation was organised, Kat hadn’t been bothered by Nico coming along. She liked Nico, she liked that Sarah was dating him, she liked that he’d suggested a very nice resort over their original plans and offered to pay the difference, and even though she knew it would mean she would be spending quite a lot of time on her own it was okay. Going on a day tour organised by the resort was perfect, swimming in the cove by the resort was fantastic and, truthfully, even when Jack was the only one around to play tennis against it was fine.

Because he was on the other side of the court and she could unleash any hatred she had in the form of an overhand shot that landed rapidly and directly at his feet or on the other side of the court and make him dive. Jack took it all in stride, as he so often did, and rolled through each dive like the pro-athlete he was.

His diving got more theatrical when a few young women appeared on the next court.

“Are you for fucking real?” Kat grumbled under her breath as Jack missed the easiest shot she’d sent him all afternoon because he was distracted by one of the women waving at him.

Kat couldn’t shake the annoyance she felt with the flirting because there was no way she and Jack didn’t look like a couple and it was just plain rude for them to be flirting so blatantly.

“Do you want to keep going or are we done?”

“Serve it up, let’s go,” Jack responded, unfazed and seemingly unaware that Kat was being more curt with him than normal.

Kat served it directly at his feet and delighted in the panicked jump he took to get out of the way; she was less delighted by the giggles from his new posse . Really, as much as she didn’t want Jack to be ruining her holiday, the least he could do is pay attention if he was spending time with her.

He held it together long enough to serve it back to Kat in the exact right spot for Kat to lob it back to him rather viciously. The humph that left him as it connected with his stomach was music to her ears and exactly what she needed to be able to leave feeling satisfied.

If Jack noticed that she was leaving the court, he didn’t say a thing.

Kat spent the next day wandering the resort and the island by herself—well, on a resort organised tour. She left before anyone else was awake and arrived back home in time for dinner as a group where nobody questioned her decision to be alone.

It was better than being stuck watching Jack flirt with the gaggle of young women who seemingly followed him everywhere. Including to dinner. He was aware enough, thankfully, to read the looks on her, Sarah and Nico’s faces and understand that his new friend was not welcome.

“If you go on another day trip, can I come?” Jack asked.

“I guess,” Kat said, less reluctant than at the start of dinner. As annoying as she found him and his laugh, he did have a way of wearing her down over every meal; it just never lasted long enough to dissipate completely. “Probably not tomorrow. I’m getting drunk by the pool tonight.”

Jack’s smile was so wide it must have hurt his cheeks when he said, “I could get drunk by the pool.”

They were able to cajole Sarah and Nico into joining them and Kat was grateful for the evening with her best friend and for the distraction from Jack. There wasn’t much swimming done, just some wading into the shallow end between drinks because the staff on duty were sticklers for the no glass in the pool rule.

Sarah talked about the day trips out of the resort, and they agreed that they’d check out the scooter tour through Rhodes both as something different from what they’d both been up to and because they knew that Nico and Jack would undoubtedly do something together that was worth laughing at.

“I’m yours for the rest of the vacation,” Sarah promised. “I know I’ve been the worst friend ever leaving you with Jack.”

“I knew what I was getting into.” Kat was sure that her words were just a little hollow and her smile not entirely convincing because Sarah frowned and then said she was disappearing back to her room for a few minutes but would be right back with a present.

Kat was left with nothing to do but kick her feet under the barstool.

Across the bar she noticed a man sitting by himself and she made a decision—she wasn’t going to be the only person on the trip not getting laid, so she stood up, tried to subtly make her bikini top do something for her tits and walked towards the man with her shoulders back.

She tapped on his shoulder when she reached him, put on her most flirty smile when he turned around, and said, “Hi, I’m Kat. What are you drinking?”

The man’s face went through multiple different facial expressions, none particularly clear but none at all good, and Kat’s confidence shattered into pieces when he laughed so abruptly and so harshly that he immediately started choking.

“Nothing you can afford to buy me, sweetheart, and nothing I’d buy for a girl who got into her mommy’s make up.”

Kat wasn’t entirely sure how she got away, she had no memory of leaving because all she could see in front of her was his face, yet she ended up at the open door of a cubby and hid away in it without hesitation and kicked the door shut behind her.

If she wasn’t willing away the tears in her eyes, she may have been able to appreciate it for the secluded, cozy space that it was and not the stark reminder that she was going to be the only person on her vacation who didn’t have any fun.

The scraping of the door had Kat glaring at the ceiling; none of the details of that were clear either through the tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“With you?” she asked, nothing but bite in her voice. “No.”

Footsteps drew closer to her and it was the final straw for a tear to escape—she tried to swiftly wipe it off her cheek before Jack saw. The movement was more than enough to give her away.

“I can go find Sarah but I don’t know if you want to explain and relive that.”

“Explain that I tried to put myself out there and he literally laughed in my face? Probably not.” She inhaled sharply. “Wow, I’m reliving it anyway.”

“I know you don’t like me very much—and don’t lie about it,” he interjected when she opened her mouth to deny. “It’s fine. You don’t have to like me. I just don’t think you should let one guy ruin your trip.”

Kat laughed, so hard that she snorted, at the irony of the one guy who had ruined her trip saying that. Jack preened, thinking he had accomplished something by making her laugh.

“I can handle being rejected,” she said firmly before admitting meekly, “He hit every insecurity I have in like two sentences.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Look, you aren’t exactly my favourite person in the world either but you’re hot and he’s an idiot, so.”

Kat’s mouth opened, and then shut when she couldn’t get any words out. She didn’t even know what words she wanted to say. All she could do was stare up at Jack and try to make sense of what he’d said.

“Don’t make it weird,” he joked as he nudged her thigh with his knee.

Knowing that if she kept looking at him she was certainly going to make it weird, Kat looked out one of the cubby’s windows and briefly caught sight of Sarah returning to poolside with Nico.

“Why did you crash my vacation?” she asked, finally getting to the question she’d been wanting to ask since she heard he’d bought flights.

“Your vacation?” Jack asked incredulously as if it was the first he was hearing about him inviting himself along at all.

“This is a vacation Sarah and I have been thinking about since freshman year,” Kat explained, exasperation growing inside her again as it so often did when Jack was involved. “I barely got over Nico being invited.”

Jack was sure and certain, far less incredulous, and told her, as if he’d had his explanation planned for quite some time, “I crashed your vacation because I knew someone was going to end up being the third wheel. I really kinda thought it’d be Neeks but I was prepared to make you like me if I had to.”

Unable to keep looking away, Kat was taken aback by the soft smile on Jack’s face. She’d never seen him look less than smug and was utterly disarmed by the change. And by the way it made her feel.

“Thank you. For being here. On my vacation and right now.”

“Don’t make it weird,” he said with the same nudge of her thigh as earlier.

He extended his hand to her, saying that they should rejoin Nico and Sarah before they started to worry or ask questions. Kat pretended she didn’t feel the fluttering in her stomach when their hands touched. She also ignored the disappointment she felt when he let go when she was standing.

Instead of walking with her to Sarah and Nico, Jack turned in the direction of the bar. If he were anybody else, Kat might be worried that he was going to find the guy who had rejected her. As little as she actually knew him, it didn’t take much leap in logic to realise he was just going to get them drinks.

Sarah and Nico were sitting at a table closer to the pool than Sarah and Kat had been, a little brown bag on the table in front of them.

“This my present?” Kat asked, reaching out to open the bag slightly. “Oh, yum, baklava.”

She took one of the empty seats and wasted no time tearing open the bag and indulging. Sarah and Nico watched her for a moment, before their eyes shifted back towards the bar, and Kat knew that they’d seen her and Jack leave the cozy cubby together.

“Something you want to share?” Sarah asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Nope,” came Jack’s voice from above Kat’s head, shortly followed by his arm and the drink he was placing in front of Kat.

As the moon rose and the sun disappeared completely from the sky, Kat reluctantly admitted to herself that Jack wasn’t all that bad—even his laugh was contagious more than grating in the aftermath of his comforting moment.

Kat took the opportunity when Sarah and Nico went to get another round of drinks to ask Jack, “Did you mean it? That you think I’m hot?”

A familiar smirk formed on Jack’s face, his hand moving to her bare thigh.

“Don’t make it weird, Kat.”

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

#jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #the summer fic exchange 2k23 #fic: devils

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crypticandmachiavellianaugustine · 2 months

Text

Sweet Nothings (Part Two)

Part One

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: part two they live happily ever after, a little bit of angst.

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, tw Beron mentioned, mentions of past torture and abuse, mentions of body image insecurities, smut

English is not my first language, I am burnt out and spent Valentine's Day finishing this instead of studying so probably lots of mistakes ( also watch me fail my exams because I dedicated Valentine's Day to Eris)

___

Dawn had not broken into the sky yet when Y/N woke up, feeling disoriented at first, almost thinking that she had started seeing double and more when she noticed six Willows sleeping on the thick carpet in front of her bed, and the feeling of an unfamiliar warm weight draped over her waist had her questioning her sanity for a moment. She was in her room at the Forest House, that was something she had gotten used to. The smoke hounds were peacefully snoring on her carpets and sofas, and some to her surprise had even become living pillows for the cats. And lastly, the weight on her waist was an arm and the owner of it was still in deep sleep, breathing calmly with his face pressed against her neck.

She wanted to frustratingly growl into her pillow when she remembered exactly how the night before, her bold and tipsy self had begged Eris to sleep in her bed instead of ending the evening with the usual long kiss in front of her door and going their separate ways for the night like they had done in the last few weeks. She was not ready to face him awake so she kept quiet, simmering in her embarrassment.

After their first kiss, in a hidden corner of the palace's gardens, surrounded by roses and falling rust coloured leaves, the awkwardness of two almost strangers who happened to be mates had been quickly replaced by a natural familiarity. They both craved to feel a touch that was only meant to love and comfort and they craved each other. Half sentences and prolonged silences had made them realise that explanations about the past that were beyond strictly necessary could wait. She had her loneliness and he had his scars and they knew how to ease the torment of both.

Y/N noticed that he had slightly opened the windows, just the way she liked it. She hated sleeping in a completely closed room, as strange as it was, she only felt calm with at least one window open. But he had also bundled her up in her covers and his body was warmer than usual, of course he would never waste an occasion to showcase how he could use his powers for her comfort. She expected to be annoyed by how he was protecting her from the cold she felt comfortable in, but she didn't even try to lie to herself and pretend that she didn't find his care for her quite moving.

Luna jumped on the bed with her usual rudeness of small cat and after glaring at Y/N, her beloved cat and first friend at the Forest House curled up on the other side of her mate. She heard Eris chuckle quietly, the cat had woken him up. Y/N felt him kiss the back of her neck.

She turned around and darted him a falsely annoyed look when she noticed that he was immensely amused by Luna's preference for him that morning.

"I guess that now I have two little cats in need of cuddles," whispered Eris in her ear teasingly, alluding to her behaviour since they had gotten closer and earning a light slap on his arm.

After their first kiss she had started to enjoy being close to him way more than she had expected. It had become an anything but rare occurence to get caught while kissing by advisers, servants and courtiers walking in the throne room only to leave hastily immediately after, finding the High Lord on his throne with his mate on his lap.

Unsurprisingly, Eris was the only one immune to the awkwardness of those incidents, usually being very entertained by the escape of the unfortunate souls who walked themselves into mortification by going in his throne room, and by the flushed of embarrassment cheeks of his mate.

He kissed her forehead gently, drawing her close to his chest again. She had contrasting feelings about his hands stroking her back in that moment. It undoubtedly felt good, it was even one of the specific kinds of touch that she had always yearned for. But she could not suppress the uncertainty and shyness about the knowledge of what he could feel through the light fabric of the nightgown she was wearing. Y/N loved everything about her body, a love that she had nurtured and built for a long time. She was not a stranger to the cruel words of those who felt like they had the right to judge her, to tell her shamelessly that her looks and her existence were something that was wrong in their eyes.

She was aware that her insecurities were irrational. In the last few weeks, Eris had not shied away from making her understand how utterly attracted he was to her. But there was a difference in her mind between being close to him while wearing a proper dress and knowing that in that very moment his hands were feeling love handles through the nightgown while moving around her back. Even worse, she had felt him caress her arms, his intention was to give her more warmth and affection but Y/N blushed vividly, realising that the softness of her arms was not at all hidden by fabric in that moment.

Eris continued touching her tenderly, kissing her flushed cheeks.

"My sweet shy love" he murmured before settling his lips on her forehead again, while his hands continued their gentle ministrations.

Y/N decided not to voice her insecurities just yet, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her head, she would not allow her thoughts to ruin her day before sunrise.

Y/N was flipping through a book of traditional autumn court recepies. She knew that she wanted to accept the bond between her and Eris, even if she had not told him yet. Deciding what to prepare was a complicated dilemma. She wanted to cook something amazing, putting her talents to good use, she had been a patissier in the kitchens of the Forest House a few months prior after all, and quite a lot of times her mate had praised her creations after realising that she was the hand responsible for some of the fine patisserie that had been served to his table for some time before their first tumultuous encounter in the gardens.

The book was as exquisite as the foods it detailed, with its beautiful illustrations of the dishes and a motive of golden trees decorating every single page.

Y/N placed the book on one of the finely inlaid desks and left the library.

The next day she was bound to leave with Eris to stay for a few days on the coastal side of Autumn. He had duties in that part of the Court and he wanted to make use of his time there to show her a new part of his home. Y/N was excited to be away from the palace and all of its formalities, and for the first time she had somewhere to go with someone, it would not be solitary wandering but a stay by the sea with her mate. Almost a vacation.

In her life of outcast she had never wandered far from the sea. In her loneliest times, being tossed by the waves had almost felt like a hug. And whenever she had been suffocating under the torment that her own mind sometimes submitted her to, the cold and dark embrace of a marine abyss had never failed to ground her in the present, freeing her from her invisible chains.

In her chamber Y/N had started packing the last things that she needed, the dresses that she had wished to take with her on that short trip had already been prepared.

She packed two of the books she was reading, Eris had assured her that there was a library where they were heading when he had noticed the pile she had prepared for the trip.

Luna was sharpening her claws on the wooden trunk that contained her clothes, visibly upset. The cats and the hounds would stay at the Forest House, and both groups of animals were showing their disappointment. Willow was whining on her favourite sofa, so docile and pleading that it was easy to forget that she was one of the renowned smoke hounds of Autumn.

Y/N packed some of her favourites oils and salves and one of her most beloved scents; the mixture of bergamot, jasmine and roses calming her nerves.

The last few days had not been easy for her. Since the mating bond had snapped, Eris had made sure to get rid of every noble who dared to question her presence at Court, those whose tongues had been raised against her had been stripped of their richness and exiled in a blink of an eye; some, Y/N had discovered, had even lost their lives for the slandering they had spat out about the mate of their new High Lord. The last three of a group of nobles who had particularly hateful things to say about her, had disappeared from the palace the day before, but knowing that they had payed was not making their disgusting words sting less.

She layed down, hoping to distract herself with some reading and some goodbyes cuddles for Luna and Willow, falling asleep shortly after, even with the cat sleeping on her pillow and the hound snoring next to her.

Calmness permeated on the coast side of Autumn, an ethereal and not ignorable presence, just like the morning mist that was attenuating the reality around them. The lazy sound of soft waves in the distance was the only disruption of that quiet place.

The hushed and dreamlike scenery of that seaside early morning did very little to cover the Villa that was standing out against a curtain of pale fog.

Wrapped up in her cloak and with the face of someone who could have used a few more hours of sleep, Y/N glared sceptically at her mate. With Eris' description of the place she had expected to see a cozy little cabin, the opulent elegance of the mansion in front of them had come as a surprise.

Normally she would have teased him about his minimization of the place, but she decided to keep her thoughts for a future time, preferably a time with his flames roaring in a fireplace and a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

Eris was keeping an arm around her waist as they walked to the front door of the Villa, pressing her closely to his body and using his power to warm up her cloak. Normally she did not mind the cold, but she had took a liking in allowing him to ease that discomfort, the annoyed and shy glares she had displayed when he had warmed her up the first few times were a distant memory, replaced by an almost pouting expression she had on her face every time she needed his warmth but was too prideful to ask.

Inside, after he removed her cloak and with a flick of his fingers made every single fireplace and candle in the house spark to life, he still refused to free her from the hold of his arm around her waist. Instead, he picked her up and carried her to one of the chambers. Y/N wanted to protest, not knowing what she could say without making her insecurities about her body known, she blushed nervously and gripped his shoulders as if she was scared to fall.

"Sssshhh," she heard Eris whisper in her hear, before feeling him press a kiss on the side of her head.

"Put me down. I am too heavy, you are going to make me fall!" Y/N murmured, she felt almost mortified.

"And I am strong. Relax, my love, you are not about to fall," the High Lord of Autumn reassured his drowsy mate, laying her gently on a bed. He took off her boots and covered her with a blanket, meeting her sleepy and amused stare.

"I have hands, you know?" said Y/N suppressing a yawn and curling up in a more comfortable position.

"I am aware. Delightfully soft and gentle ones, while we're at it" he replied, his amber eyes looking at her with tenderness and his lips curved into a smirk. "Just grant me the pleasure of doing things for you, my little fox."

She did not hear him leave the room, falling asleep quickly despite her plans of staying awake.

The sea of Autumn was the opposite of what she had expected. Not a chilling silent expanse like the frozen waters of the Winter Court, and neither blue and lively like the crystal clear sea of the Summer Court. It was just calm.

Y/N was laying on the sand, observing the sky as the sunset was making the lilac clouds gleam of marigold orange light. In a past too far away from her to reach ever again, she had used to love painting the color of every sunset she used to admire, and every sunrise as well; she had painted until she had become incapable of finding the beauty in those afar horizons, so her paints and brushes had been abandoned on a forgotten path, never to be recovered again by the hands that had used them for so long, abandoned by the girl who had frantically attempted to remember the skies she would never see again once every night would fall.

Now on that silent beach of the Autumn Court, a place where she had ended up unexpectedly, her hands where unconsciously twitching, eager to hold a brush again.

There had been many things she had started doing again in the most recent times. Writing just for the taste of it and not only to confide in the silence of paper the small memorable moments of her days. Laughing sincerely. Finding peace in the security and quietness of hours spent in the arms of someone who truly cared about her.

The orange glow of the sky was starting to disappear, making way for cooler shades and silver stars when Y/N heard someone approaching. She smiled when Eris sat down next to where she was laying, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. She could tell that leaving the Forest House for a day was already benefiting him, even if he had spent the day buried in whatever duty he had there, by the sea. The dark shadows that she had got used to see under his eyes in the last few days were still there, but he seemed happier, as if he was breathing more freely. She rarely asked him about his duties as the High Lord of Autumn, only a few times after the mating bond had snapped between them she had shyly offered advice, during the long hours she had spended curled up on one of the sofas in his office, pretending to focus on a book but actually studying him, trying to figure him out. He had always immediately followed her advice, praising her for her ideas and encouraging her to always share her thoughts, advice that she sometimes followed reluctantly, she was still too used to her centuries of silence.

Y/N sat up just to be immediately pulled back down by her mate who had squeezed her in his arms and layed on the sand with a contented groan, her basically resting on his chest.

"Rude," she grumbled, failing to put on an annoyed expression when she felt his fingers brush through her hair. She looked up, Eris seemed almost carefree laying there with his eyes closed and her in his arms. The light of the sun, that was almost completely set on the horizon at that point, made his auburn hair resemble the fire he could create apparently as easily as breathing. Y/N lightly trailed her fingertips on his face, admiring his sharp features and freckles. A smirk curving her lips when an idea made its way into her head. Before Eris could comprehend what was going on she was already up, running to the sea and unceremoniously throwing her dress on the sand, wearing only a garnet red chemise when she abandoned hersel into the calm waters, gasping at the sudden coldness and starting to laugh at her mate who had winnowed to the shore and had tried to grab her before she collided with the placid waves and started to swim away. She did notice him enter the water until a pair of arms surrounded her waist. Eris didn't waste any time before starting to leave a trail of kisses along her shoulders, her shivers not caused by the icy feeling of the water anymore. Y/N could not resist turning around and crashing her lips against his. When Eris kissed her, it was always with his whole self, with his whole soul. And then in one moment it ended. He had winnowed them back to their chamber at the Villa.

"Now, why did you feel the need to do that? We were enjoying ourselves," Y/N grumbled rolling her eyes just to be met with an intense wave of heat, he was drying her off with a dramatically patient and exasperated expression on his face.

"We can enjoy ourselves without risking you getting sick," Eris replied, grabbing a blanket, warming it and wrapping her in, using his powers to make the flames in the fireplace roar to life.

"You are aware that I can take some cold, are you?" Y/N huffed, just to be pulled in for a kiss, hearing him saying something about that morning under his breath. She blushed, she had never really seen Eris shirtless and now the extent of the scars he usually hid by dressing immaculately was completely exposed to her eyes. She had only caught peeks of the scarring, when after his training or their time spent together the collar of his shirt often became undone.

He sensed her stare and for the first time since they had met each other she could tell that Eris was in difficulty, his characteristic boldness melted under her eyes. He looked down, picking up a shirt and putting it on, she had never seen him embarrassed before.

She wanted to ask, to know. But questions were superfluous. She had always known the Autumn Court as brutal and since she had ended up living there, the things she had heard about Beron Vanserra were enough of an answer for her unexpressed question.

Y/N had never learned how to react to someone else's pain, no one had even been so close to her heart to have those kind of moments in her presence. But Eris was her mate, the other half of her soul, the male who had been nothing but patient, protective and caring since the night they had met. So she walked up to him, clumsily trying to think about what to say and what to do to comfort him. She caressed the sides of his neck, with all the gentleness she was capable of, trying to send waves of affection through the bond.

"Please don't pity me" she heard him whispering, almost pleading with a vulnerability she had never witnessed in him.

Y/N didn't know how to respond. Instinctively her fingers started to gently slide the shirt he had put on, off of him. Eris didn't say anything, his eyes fluttering close as if he wanted to hide something. She set the shirt down on an armchair before looking at him. Her hands were at the sides of his neck again. This time she trailed her fingertips on his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing at the contact, Y/N could have sworn that she had felt him shiver. The scars that she was touching almost with reverence were just a small section, she could tell that they continued on his back even if she could not see them from where she was.

Eris tensed up when she hugged him, her face pressed against his chest. The scars there had been clearly made with a dagger, some were deep looking, she asked herself how he was still alive. Her fingers running gently over his back were reading a different story. The scars there were numerous, inflicted with blind violence, the lashings of a whip.

"I am not pitying you," as she said that he relaxed slightly, his lips pressing lightly on the crown of her head.

Eris sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her close to him. At the sight of his intense amber eyes looking at her with amazement and longing she could not resist kissing him softly, trying to express all of the words she found herself incapable of saying. As the kiss grew desperate she felt his arms holding her tightly, his face pressed into the curve of her neck.

They stayed like that for a long time before Eris started to kiss her again. Warm lips on hers, on her neck and then kissing along one of her arms until he reached her hand, and there he pressed a tender kiss on her knuckles.

Y/N became increasingly red the more he continued.

"When you blush your cheeks remind me of rose petals. Your lips feel like roses too". Eris' hoarse voice so close to her ears sent small shivers down her spine. The amber of his eyes seemed liquid, alive, as if a flame was burning inside of them. His usual sharp and attentive gaze was completely lost in his observation of her. His eyes followed the lines his fingers were tracing on her lips, her shoulders, the exposed skin of her chest, before stopping were her underdress started, as if he was admiring how the crimson of the fabric layed softly on her pale brests.

He looked up, silently asking for permission. Y/N felt as if she was falling down into an abyss, her knees weak as she nodded. She would not shy away. Eris sensed her uneasiness and laid a kiss on her forehead. Y/N closed her eyes, that simple contact was melting something inside of her. It felt like a promise, it was as if he was vowing to keep her safe, to hold her as she shed her last standing walls, completely surrendering to a real love for the first time. She slid the chemise off, the red fabric pooling at her feet.

Eris' eyes were as scorching as flames, his expression as he took her in was charged of the fire she had often wondered about. She was certain that he would consume her and bring her back to life at the same time. Despite everything, when he scooped her up in his arms and layed her on the soft pillows, his touch was gentle, as if she was the most precious and delicate thing he had ever encountered.

"Beautiful" he almost growled, his tone still hoarse, as he trailed his lips in between her breasts.

Y/N had always imagined that feeling his powerful body pressed against the softness of hers would have caused some embarrassment- but in that moment she didn't feel anything other than warm, safe, eager.

Eris' hands, his cleaver and capable hands, were everywhere. Fondling her breasts slowly, before torturing them with his lips. Sliding and squeezing the curve of her waist, caressing the softness of her belly. When he reached her thighs he made a sound that could only be described as animalistic. He looked at her for a moment, his smile feral as he lowered his face to her large thighs, his hands grasping and stroking the soft flesh as he sinked his teeth into one, starting to bite, kiss and tease her inner thighs. She felt reduced to a mess and they had barely even started.

She guided his head up again, her fingers sliding into his fiery hair and slightly tugging, he chuckle before capturing her lips again. She almost begged him to stop his exasperating teasing and in an uncharacteristic moment of mercy, he did- making her gasp of delight as she felt him inside of her, thrusting deeply as his hands kneaded her behind before pinning her wrists over her head and kissing her again. She was whimpering against his lips as his movements became harsher and his mouth attacked her neck. With each thrust she felt herself closer to coming undone and the sounds coming out of his mouth were speeding the process. She took pleasure in seeing him so taken by her, a few auburn strands falling on his temples, his eyes shining like citrines. As they both felt the release of falling over the edge of the pleasure that has been built up with each one of their movements, they both relaxed into the bed- holding each other as if they were both secretly trying to reassure themselves that the other was going to stay, forever.

Hours later when they finally had enough of exploring each other, they were both enjoying the cold silence of the dawn. The water they were relaxing in was not giving signs of cooling down, Y/N couldn't wait to discover all of the small ways Eris could use his powers. His hands, warmer than usual on her shoulders, felt comforting. His fingers gently massaging her, after washing her hair, were lulling her to sleep.

During her centuries of wandering around Prythian, Y/N had never indulged in celebrating the Day of Love. And when she had confessed her reluctance in recognising the importance of the holiday, she must have known by the look on his face that Eris had big plans. For him, her grumpy behaviour she displayed when talking about the day had been like throwing wood into a fire, he would give her the most romantic Day of Love she could imagine and he would enjoy watching her pretend that she was absolutely not blushing and melting inside because of his attention. So when he saw her green eyes light up at the sight of their chamber filled with bouquets of all her favourite flowers, he decided not to tease her too much and reduce her to a blushing, smiling mess yet. White clouds of jasmine and elaborated multicoloured orchids imported from the Continent, pastel violet tulips, peonies and roses, that were currently being destroyed by her cats, the one she had called Luna snacking on the red ones. His hounds were politely laying in front of the fireplace, observing the uncivilised small felines cause mischief around the compositions of flowers.

There were few things he enjoyed as much as witnessing the way she glowed in excitement everytime she received gifts. So after breakfast and after unwrapping a set of gold and emerald jewelry, a matching small dagger, the hilt decorated with an intricate pattern of golden leaves and an adequate amount of new books, they got ready for a day in the main city of the Autumn Court, were he literally bought anything she showed even the slightest interest in. They had lunch on a terrace overlooking the forest and spent the afternoon winnowing to some of her favourites places.

Later that night, after almost visiting half of Pyrithian and having dinner on the beach in Summer, Y/N admitted that after all she did have a surprise for him that day. An elaborate honey cake covered in fresh wild berries, with numerous layers and soft cream was waiting for them in their chamber. She had prepared it secretly the day before, almost embarrassed by herself for being too romantic and picking that specific day to accept Eris as her mate. She cut a slice and fed him a piece, his hand catching hers as tears of happiness started falling down his face, his lips kissing her fingertips as the golden thread that bonded their hearts became stronger, eternal. They both knew that they were about to spend a scandalous amount of time in that room.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x plus size reader #high lord eris

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altheasmeadow · 1 year

Text

Introduce Yourself First

Word Count: 582

Warnings: None at all

pairing: San X fem reader

Summary: In which he doesn’t even wait to introduce himself before he attaches himself to his soulmate

His eyes were just black yesterday! And now he’s waking up to pink? How is that possible? He didn’t even have a color resembling blonde for if they bleached their hair, just black when he went to sleep and pink when he woke up.

“Woah ho nice eyes.” Wooyoung grinned as San made his way to the meeting point so they could head to the company together, “They actually look good on you.”

“They seriously wasted no time changing their hair color, huh?” Mingi chuckled, shouldering his bag higher as they all climbed into the van.

“So we have to find someone with pink hair, tht makes it a lot easier than the black hair.” Jongho grinned, pulling his phone out to scroll.

“And they’ll have black eyes!” Seonghwa noted, happy that their search is finally getting somewhere.

They got to the company and looked around, seeing as they really couldn’t think of any other reason she’d have to change her hair overnight they thought maybe she’d be an idol. But they never saw anyone with pink hair before practice, leaving them all feeling a bit dejected.

“Ah give it time.” Wooyoung cooed, making San sigh as they headed into the practice room.

–

“AH!” They heard as they were on their way to lunch making their heads snap up, not really hearing too many screams around the company too often, when they looked up they saw a smug looking woman with pink hair as what seemed to be her manager or group leader dragged her down the hall.

“I can’t believe you did this behind our backs!” The dragger hissed, making the pink haired woman’s grin grow.

“Oh come on, have you met my brother? He cut his own hair with kitchen scissors. There is no way you expected anything less of me than to do my hair myself.”

“How’d you even bleach and dye your hair in the same night and it not look damaged?”

Before she could answer; however, a body was thrown into her own, heat simmering where their skin met, illiciting gasps from both parties. San didn’t even attempt to stop himself from tackling the woman, clinging to her koala style on the floor like his life depended on it, meanwhile all of ateez except Yunho and Wooyoung cringed at the motion. The other two were howling like hyena’s with how loud their laughter was.

Watching San nuzzle into the stranger like a cat is what sent Seonghwa in a frenzy rushing forward to pull him off, despite his whines of protest in response. “You could’ve at least introduced yourself first.” He chuckled, watching San glare at Yeosang who moved to help the poor girl stand, his hands immediately going up in surrender when she was on her feet. Everyone knew not to mess with a newly bonded pair, the possessiveness was through the roof.

“Just what I needed today.” The manager groaned, throwing their hand over their face in frustration.

“Hi, I’m Choi San.” He shyly introduced, leaning to bow even though his hands itched to grab ahold of her.

After introductions were out of the way, San instantaneously latched back on to the poor girl who was surprisingly more than okay with the contact, almost preening as San laced his fingers through her pink strands in awe.

“Oh god it’s worse than him with Wooyoung.” Jongho groaned, turning to walk away, wanting to bleach his eyes before they had those images engraved in them.

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writing-for-life · 4 days

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WHAT DO YOU MEAN DREAM'S HAIR USED TO BE WHITE!! oh my god. i just saw your post about killala and i have now perished. thanks for breaking my heart.

but also hi!! i'm relatively new to the fandom and it's a great place to be. i haven't finished reading all the comics yet but i'm curious to know:

what do you think are the main differences between TV!Dream and Comics!Dream? i've heard so many people claiming that he is incapable of changing, for instance, and though the show does convey his overall rigidity pretty well, i'm not getting the vibe that he's immutable.

also!! it's clear that he feels a lot. which is always funny to me when the corinthian is like yo, try this and maybe you'll feel something for a change but like. he does!!! or i get the impression that he does. he probably feels too much if anything?? all of it simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. how would you personally analyze his relationship with his own emotions?

i hope all of this is coherent enough for you to answer lmao, i saw your post about enjoying being asked sandman questions two seconds after i woke up and barged into your inbox. hope you have a lovely day!

Thanks so much for the ask, and welcome if you’re new(ish) to the fandom! 🤗

I’m sorry I broke your heart—much more heartbreak to come I fear if you haven’t read the comics yet, so I’ll try to keep this as spoiler-free as possible.

I am one of those people who believes the differences between comics!Dream and show!Dream are actually not as big as they are made out to be where it matters, and you will definitely find people who disagree. At the end of the day, we all read it through our own lens and will never be fully objective about it.

The main difference I see is that they filed off the rough edges of the comics a bit to make a new audience sympathise more. It’s very hard to do that with a character who is basically in full arsehole mode for most of the first 40 issues or so, and even then only slowly begins to come out of it (although we can obviously see glimmers of what lies below the surface at the beginning of the comics, too, but it’s far more subtle than in the show). I’ve worked in musical theatre for a over decade of my life and understand a bit about bringing the written word to stage/screen, and some things simply don’t translate well from book to stage/screen, and you have to change it. So my personal opinion is we get a more sympathetic Morpheus and certain changes so the audience can do exactly that—sympathise off the bat. You will lose an audience pretty quickly if they don’t care about the protagonist and the universe he moves in, and you can’t be as nuanced about it as you can be in a written work. We’re talking about streaming services thinking about profits here, even if people don’t want to hear it.

Also: The more you sympathise with a character, the deeper the emotional investment and the more you feel, even if it hurts.

Having said this, I don’t think Morpheus is incapable of change, and I never got where that idea comes from. His biggest flaw is that he believes he cannot change (and even he has moments when he admits he might have). In the introduction to Endless Nights, Neil Gaiman says that he was once asked to describe The Sandman in twenty-five words or less, and famously, it was this (you might have heard it):

“The Lord of Dreams learns that one must change or die, and makes his decision.”

And I think some people might have wrongly taken that for an either/or thing. I don’t want to say too much at this point because I don’t know how much you know (if you’d like spoilers or already know how it ends, let me know, I’ll happily expand on it). Only so much:

He is capable of change, also in the comics. Very obviously so. But just like he denies he has his own story (which also isn’t true), he denies he can change. Or at least he thinks he perhaps cannot change enough (it’s actually hard to write about this without giving everything away, help! 🙈).

As for his feelings: He does feel, but again, it is something he pushes down and will deny himself. Until it bursts to the surface and breaks through, and when that happens, it’s usually with, well, let’s say varying results, and that’s putting it mildly. Personally, I’d say he has problems relating to his feelings, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel. Quite the opposite in my view. He holds the collective unconscious—all unprocessed feelings and whatever else floats around in that collective mess, and it’s exactly what he says to the Corinthian in that famous scene: he needs to keep a lid on it and keep that lid firmly closed so all of it doesn’t consume him. But that also means denying himself the feelings that are linked to his own personhood (if you want to call it that). There’s Dream of the Endless, and then there’s Morpheus. And while they’re one and the same and inseparable, Morpheus is also the “point of view”. The character, the person, if you will. And deep down, he craves that personhood so badly. Out of all the Endless, he is the only one who basically collects names because they mean having something beyond his function, which is also mirrored in what he tells Death in “The Sound of her Wings”: he wants something more. He is the only one whose realm is populated with sentient beings (yes, I know Despair has rats, but I think you get my drift). He is desperately lonely and struggles with it. He seeks connection yet denies it to himself. That’s not someone who doesn’t feel.

I don’t know if this answers your questions at all—I was doing the wild “spoiler-free” dance 🤣 But please let me know if you want me to go a bit deeper, I love talking about this stuff.

You can also have a look at my metas if you haven’t already. The headers pretty much explain what they’re about and what spoiler-level to expect, but none of them are truly spoiler-free I guess:

Again, thanks so much for encroaching on my inbox, and feel free to follow up if anything was left unanswered.

@dreamaturgy ask answered

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman meta #ask answered #send asks #sandman analysis #sandman character analysis #sandman comics #the sandman netflix

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