#is it really a slow burn if it doesn't hurt a little bit?

[ghouljams]

There is No Pavement, My Love

Professor Love makes an observation, Professor Riley misinterprets it.

"I'd like to add your book to my syllabus." Love says leaning against Ghost's desk. He glances up from his grading, his eyes darting between the way she pushes her tits out and the way she smiles, before returning his attention to his work.

He'd worried about this after the conference. He already had enough requests rotting in his inbox for reprintings of his book. The whole thing was more trouble than it was worth, raised more heartache than he ever wanted it to. It was better left buried with the rest of his past.

"No."

"Why not?" He can hear her pouting, he stuffs down the smile it threatens to raise in him. How is it one woman can be such a balm for his melancholy?

"Never find enough copies," he circles a glaring comma splice and underlines a misquote, "it's out of print."

"Well then it's a good thing someone uploaded all of it to the internet in pdf form." Love wiggles in her seat, attempting to draw his attention again. Ghost gives a quick glance, his eyes fixing on the strained buttons on her shirt. Weak. He is a weak, weak, man. Always has been, that's exactly why he's in this mess in the first place.

"Cheeky little thing aren't you." He looks away, but his voice is thick and labidinous. The soft noise Love lets out make him think it's not an unwelcome tone. Cheeky indeed. She leans a little more heavily against his desk.

"What about just the forward?"

Ghost sets down his pen, taking off his spectacles and laying them neatly beside it. He knits his fingers together and rests his hands heavily on the papers he'd been grading.

"Why do you want to teach my book?" He asks, leaning to match her pose.

"Mostly just the forward," Love amends. Ghost shakes his head with a smile, drags his teeth over the scar splitting his lip before he can look at her again.

"Why do you want to teach my forward?" He asks again.

"Its a love letter."

Ghost freezes, his brain running through every word of his book looking for anything that could be interpreted as something so... romantic.

"Explain," he grunts, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back in his chair. Love blinks, her expression softening in a way that makes Ghost feel like he's dying. His heart clenches in his chest. He squeezes his bicep, his fingers tight to keep himself from pulling her over the desk. If he could kiss that sad softness out of her smile he would. She laces her fingers together.

"My mum lived through Hell every day of her marriage to my father, I wish I could rest comfortably knowing she's somewhere better, but then I wouldn't be here, and neither would you." Love recites, and some long dormant crack in Ghost's chest aches. Her voice is softer, when she speaks again, and that hurts all the worse, "You spend 250 pages talking about grief and our comfort in the afterlife; talking about your time in the service, and losing people. Just because you wanted to make sense of your mum's death. How is that not a love letter?"

Ghost swallows the lump that threatens to choke him. He fixes his eyes on hers, hard and unyielding even when he can see sincerity shining through her expression. He can't stand it. Tenderness is a privilege, she should never assume such a softness about him.

"It's a book," He tells her firmly, "one that's better off buried."

"It's part of you," She tries, "an important one."

"If you're done teasin' me,"

"I'm not-

"You can get out," Ghost powers through her objection, nods towards the door. Love opens her mouth and her raises a brow, "Go on, be cute for someone else."

There's a hurt in her eyes when she closes her mouth, her lips drawing together tight. It hurts as much as Ghost thought it would, but he can't have her poking around at scars like this. There's too much about her he should have nipped in the bud, too much he's let her get away with, too much he's deluded himself into hoping for, she can't have this too. She can't think he's more than he is.

She stands, and shuts the door tight behind her.

And it's worse somehow.

#simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x oc #ghost x oc #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost mwii #professor!Ghost #professor au #is it really a slow burn if it doesn't hurt a little bit? #oc: love #I'll fix it in the next one #Ghost is tender about his trauma but who isn't?

[victoria-grimesss]

Ghost Headcanons ~SFW & NSFW~

masterlist

->Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

->Warning: MDNI pretty please!! smutttt, some fluff, romance, etc.

->A/N: giggling and kicking my feet

SFW:

He's a quiet, stoic, and serious man but somehow you worm your way into his heart and although he may have been annoyed at first, he had a feeling you were going to be an issue when you first met.

It was an intensely slow burn built up to your relationship filled with passed glances, touches that you wish were longer, and the sound of his commands lingering in your mind for longer than normal.

Eventually he asked you out, unconventionally. He marched right up to you after training, still drenched in sweat and asked you flat out. You accepted and from there grew something as incredible as it is intense.

100% scary guard dog privileges.

Walking at night is never scary when he’s next to you. His stare is enough to deter any wrongdoers, he walks on outside of the sidewalk.

He's quiet but don't mistake that for aloof. He's observant as all hell. Always watching out for you when you're out together. An absentminded action he says.

Not a big fan of PDA but he always has a hand on you at all times. Ushering you through a crowd he's got his hand on the small of your back guiding you.

He enjoys being seen with you, having you next to him and just being in your presence is all he needs.

He denies he gets jealous but when a guy who shows a little too much interest in you enters into conversation with you he'll come over just to puff up his chest and throw a heavily tatted arm around your waist. "A bit jealous Simon?" "Don't know what you're talking about love."

He has an insane amount of those mask that are strewn about everywhere, and they are all in a disarray of washed and unwashed.

He thinks it's cute when you put them on and mimic him, especially if you're not British and you mimic a butchered Manchester accent. It gets a laugh out of him.

Others adore the two of you, especially the rest of the 141. He has literal heart eyes for you, through his rough exterior he really does love you.

His love language is words of affirmation and actions. You'll wake up to some flowers and painkillers on the side-table after a particularly shitty day.

Even if he's in a hurry to get out of the door he will never miss the chance to give you a hearty kiss and tell you to have a good day.

He listens to classic rock, there's usually some form of it playing in the house, he doesn't like the silence due to the tinnitus from the field. The vibes are great in the house.

You can’t tell his mood over text AT ALL. He texts in short brief choppy sentences. He prefers phone calls.

Ex:

You: “don’t forget to take the meat out of the fridge when you get home, maybe swap the clothes from the wash to the dryer if you have time. I’ll be home around 6pm traffic shouldn’t be too bad. Insert story about your day.”

Him: 👍

Aggressively British, sometimes you don't even know what he said. You just stare at him. "Did you hear me love?" "I was questioning if those were actual words that just came out of your mouth."

Sometimes you wake up at 3am for water to see him eating a big portion of fries in just his boxers with just the dim light of a football match as a light source. You usually make eye contact once but say nothing then retreat back to the room. The first time you saw that you were convinced it was a fever dream.

Sometimes his jokes are worse than Price's. You laugh out of sympathy nonetheless. You're his #1 fan.

Speaking of Price, if you're on the team he won't let your relationship get in the way of his career or mission. You are on the team because you're capable and can handle the job at hand but he does keep close eyes on you just in case on risky missions. If you get hurt he blames himself. You reassure him it's just part of the job.

There was a visible tension between the two of you that was visible to the rest of the team before you got together. I mean Ghost stared at you a majority of the time when you weren't actively working. So when they saw the two of you coming out of the same room one morning it was a definite relief. "Oh for fucks sake it's about time!" "Shut it Johnny."

He either sleeps completely silently and still to the point you think he might be dead, to which to check on him and he just opens his eyes right away. You almost shit your pants. OR he snores like a train, this option is usually when he's safe at home with you and can relax.

He loves it more than anything when he can fall asleep on your chest with you combing your fingers through his hair. He swears he's never been more relaxed.

You never discussed children but you get small glimpses into dad actions when Soap is over to help Simon fix something that takes two. "Johnny are you daft? Hold the bloody flashlight straight I can't see fuck all with you shining it in my eyes." Soap is hysterical seeing him upset over a sink leak. "Yea yea sure LT." You just watch from afar, giggling.

NSFW:

He's intense, alluring, and dominant. He can last many rounds; he enjoys taking you every which way he can.

His voice.

He loves the effect it has on you, how he can pin you against a wall and simply stare down at you, drawing it out by raking his gaze from your lips and around your face not saying a work and just toying with you until he would utter a few simple words and have you weak in the knees. His ego is huge because he knows you find him irresistible.

Will come up behind you when you're in the kitchen, voice low and creeping right to your ear, low enough to hear the gravel. His hand would snake around you securing around your waist. All of your clothes end up on the kitchen floor, they look better down there anyway he said. "I'm a bit famished love, care if I take a bite?"

Confident in the bedroom, especially if you're vocal. He likes to hear how he makes you feel. In return he'll tell you exatly how you make him feel. "Gods love, you..fuck-fucking hell you're doing such a good job."

Sessions in bed are messy, hot, and sweaty. He plays dirty but matches what you give him. He won't degrade you, he respects you. But he is a tease.

Will tease the tip of it until you're begging and withering. "You want it say badly yea? Go ahead, tell me how badly you need it pretty girl."

His favorite positions would be doggy, missionary with your legs up around his neck or your ankles in his hands. He loves to see your reactions.

He finds himself sometimes lost in the moment, silent as he works on you. Eyelids heavy as he tries to commit this moment to memory, hands gripping you with fervor. His breath hot on your skin when he lowers his lips to your neck to leave his mark. "You're my good girl, such a good girl for me. Say it."

He may be dominant in bed but he lets you call the shots. If you need him and you're out at the pub just grab his arm and take him to the bathroom. Out on a late night date? His car is in the back of the parking lot, he's grabbing the keys and reclining the front seat. You've had sex in a supply closet once out of sheer desperation once.

Hates hates military galas, will really only interact with the 141 and some others if he has to but loves to see you all dolled up. His favorite part is smearing your makeup on the pillowcases afterwards though.

Shower sex is also an option, seeing you all soapy and wet really gets him going. Makes for easy cleanup afterwards too.

If you like his uniform he's more than happy to just bend you over and unzip the front of his pants. You’ve don’t it with the mask on more than once.

Gets off on going down on you. Could die doing it and die a happy man. He'll definitely get himself off while getting you off.

Enjoys a good blowjob every now and again, let’s you take the lead not a big head pusher unless you ask. He’ll do whatever you want.

Eye contact is a must. Missionary with your legs around his neck, and a hand around your neck making sure you know who's making you feel like this. "You love this don't you? Dirty girl."

If you're being a brat and he's had enough he'll just have you ride him, he'll put his hands behind his head and have you do all of the work until you get too tired to continue. You'll have to admit defeat. To where he'll take the reins by grabbing your hips.

If you have long hair he enjoys hitting it from the back and wrapping a majority of your hair around his fist and pulling just enough for you to make noise for him.

Definitely a mirror in your shared bedroom where he can sit you on his lap and you can both watch as you work yourself on him.

His eyes roll back in his head when he cums, his grip leaves marks. He enjoys finishing inside you, the closeness and intimacy makes his stomach burn in a good way but he’s all for pairing your ass or tits too. He’s not a picky man.

Aftercare king, although he likes to bask in the afterglow for a bit with you. You lay on his chest trying to catch your breath, the room is stuffy and warm and your heart is racing but you've never felt better. But after he cleans you up he'll come back with a good cup of tea to end the night.

tag: @chiharuthecatmom

#cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost smut #simon ghost x you #simon #cod simon riley #cod fic #call of duty #mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #mw2 smut #call of duty smut #smut #cod headcanons #ghost x reader

[bratphilia]

teacher (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Can you plz plz write a smut where Mike takes readers virginity and they are kind of innocent"

note: sorry if this was a lil shorter than you were hoping. i left some breathing room at the end for a potential second part

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: fingering, missionary, virgin!reader, soft dom!mike

"this is your clit," mike says, pressing on the sensitive area.

your hips jolt. "o-okay," you whine, struggling in his grasp.

abby is at vanessa's house to be babysat so you and mike are left alone at his place. mike has you resting half way on top of him with one hand on your leg to remind you to keep them spread for him. you decided that today's the day you want to go all the way with him, much to his concern to your change of heart. however, you managed to convince him that you were ready. 

the truth is, mike's been wanting this for awhile. he just finds your innocence so cute! the way you're a bit of a prude, blushing and shying away from anything related to sex. he finds it adorable. he finds youadorable.

he slowly moves the finger resting on your clit down south until it prods at your hole. he kisses your forehead and then your cheek as if to prepare you for what comes next. 

"ooh," you exhale shakily. it's an admittedly discomforting stretch, but thankfully he eases you into it gently. he's such a caring boyfriend. 

once the finger is inside, he curls it, earning a sharp "ah!" from you. 

"...and this is your g-spot."

"th-that feels nice, mikey," you say, reaching a hand to grasp his t-shirt while he curls and uncurls his finger. 

"yeah?" he mumbles, slightly mocking your voice. 

mike pumps his finger a little faster and reaches another hand to rub slow circles around your clit. you grasp onto his arm and whimper. 

"m-mike — mike! — i feel weird..." you cry.

instead of slowing down, he actually goes a little faster. your slick provides for a perfect lube to do so. "shh, it's okay. just let it go, okay?"

he presses the hand rubbing on your clit on your tummy, gently pressing down. the heat in your stomach grows until you feel some sort of release and a pulsing in your pussy. you moan loudly when he kisses you. 

you feel yourself dripping onto his finger and your face burns. "'m sorry." 

he gives you a lopsided grin. "what are you sorry for?"

you shake your head and he begins to unbuckle his belt and discard his pants and boxers. you tug on his shirt for him to take it off and he does so, pecking your lips before and after. 

"still good to continue?" he checks. god, he's so good to you. 

you nod and he slides on top of you. his dick prods at your entrance. "i'm going to go slow, okay? it's gonna hurt at first but that's just you adjusting."

"and we can stop at anytime, right?" you ask.

"of course."

he pushes in slow as he promised. you let out a flurry of 'ah's as the burning sensation of your walls stretching hits you overwhelmingly. fuck, you're so tight. he was expecting you to be — you were tight when he put his finger in — but he doesn't feel confident he can really move inside of you that much. 

he's buried about halfway inside and waits for your call to move. "you're — ugh — so fucking tight," he can't help but comment.

"is — is that a good thing?" you wonder out loud.

"very," he says with a pained chuckle. 

you take a deep breath after a few moments. "'m ready." 

mike begins to thrust slowly and cautiously. his cock drags against your walls pleasurably enough for the both of you. the noises your making, squeals, whines, and cries, makes him want to go faster and illicit more, but being careful with you is far more important than his primal needs.

he recalls your reactions to the way he talked to you, so he leans down to whisper in your ear. "you like that, baby? like feeling me inside you?"

"yes," you moan. 

his shallow thrusts are still enough to make the cheap bed creak and rock. "fuckin' god, babe, you feel so good wrapped around me."

"baby," you cry. "can you go a little faster? i can — ah! — take it." 

"yeah? does my baby want it faster?" he mocks you as he picks up the pace ever so slightly.

"mikey!" you cry from the stimulation.

"gettin' close, baby?" he asks.

"mmm! i think so..."

like before when you were close — and he can tell you are by the way you're spasming around him — he brings his hand to your clit and rubs from side to side. you grip desperately onto him as you feel the same way you did before: the tension in your stomach growing like a dam about to break loose. 

"ah! ah!" you moan and spill over the edge. 

mike holds off from coming himself, for now and pulls out. this was about you, not him. besides, he'll teach you how to use his mouth on him some other time anyway.

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

[scarlethexelove]

Hii, can you write Jock! Intersex!Carol x virgin (and innocent about sex) reader where they are dating but reader is stressed to do it with Carol because of Carol's past reputation on campus, so the reader thinks that she will be directly rought but when Carol starts touching reader to initiate sex, reader told Carol that she's virgin, and Carol becomes soft and take her time with the reader to not hurt her too much, even if the reader will feel pain during the first penetration (including Carol who doesn't want to wear condoms so reader asks her why and Carol says that she hates it and that condoms kill the feeling of the walls, unprotected sex, breeding, Carol calls reader babygirl/princess )

I'm Ready

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 2752

Warnings: Intersex!Carol, Smut, P in V, Virgin!Reader, Fingering, Oral, Breeding, Soft!Carol, Little bit of degradation, Little bit of a Daddy kink (Said once)

A/n: I'm so sorry I didn't add much of the Jock part but it is mentioned a little. My brain is mush and I'm having a hard time thinking of what warnings there are. Please if I forgot something really important let me know. Hope you like it and sorry it has taken me a bit to get to this. I have been so busy and then got sick.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You turn to walk backwards behind in front of your best friend Wanda. “I think I’m ready.” You tell Wanda her face is puzzled at your words. “Ready for what?” She asks you. You slightly blush at the thought. “I want to have sex with Carol.” You say just above a whisper. “You want to have sex!” Wanda says loudly. “Wanda.” You whine with how loud she was. You look around to see people looking at you making you look down in shame. “I’m sorry Y/n/n. I was just shocked. Are you sure?” She says softly and you nod. Both of you stop walking to talk. “I’m ready. I want it to be with Carol… I think I love her.” You say shyly. 

Wanda can’t help but slap your shoulder excited. “You love her? Oh my god. I’m so excited for you.” Her words make you smile. “Thanks Wanda.” You hug her before pulling back, keeping your arms around her. “You know I will admit that I was hesitant on you dating Carol because of her reputation but I have seen the change in her and in you.” Wanda smiles, hugging you again. 

“You can invite Natty over tonight. I’ll be at Carol’s tonight.” You wink at Wanda. She shoves you as she starts to walk away. “Just don’t have sex in my bed.” You laughed and Wanda winked which caused both of you to burst out laughing. 

You find yourself sitting on Carol’s couch cuddled into her side as you two watch a movie. You keep sneaking glances at Carol which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She can’t help but smirk. The next time your head turns to look at her she is already looking right at you. Taking your breath away as the light from the tv illuminates her face. “Do I have something on my face baby girl?” She smirks knowingly at you. “N-no.” You mumbler looking down. Your nerves are eating away at you. A finger slips under your chin, bringing you to look back up into her brown eyes. She leans in kissing you soft and slow. 

It takes no time as the kiss deepens and you both become more desperate for each other. You shift your body over into Carol’s lap as her hands grip your hips and your arms wrap around her neck. Her tongue exploring your mouth and a small moan being swallowed by Carol. You can feel her length hardening under you pressing up against your core. When your lungs start to burn you both pull away. Carol starts to kiss down your neck. You’re panting above her as her fingers dig into your hips, grinding up into you. “C-Carol.” You try to get her attention. She keeps kissing and leaving dark reddish purple marks on your neck. “Carol, w-wait.” You mumble out again, but all she does is hum against your neck. “Stop.” You finally manage to say. Carol immediately pulls back looking at you concerned.

“Is everything ok princess?” Carol asks you concerned, her hands cupping your cheeks as she looks at you. “I-I’ve never.” You mumble. “You’ve never what?” Carol questions not quite following along. “I’m a virgin.” You whisper looking down ashamed. It’s silent for a moment. “Y/n/n.” Carol says softly, but you don’t respond. “Princess please look at me.” Your eyes finally drifting back up to your girlfriend's face. Her smile is soft as she looks at you. “Do you want to stop?” She asks you which has you shaking your head. “I want to do this.” She smiles at you. “Are you sure?” Carol questions again not wanting to push you. “Yes.” You nod your head. 

Carol picks you up which causes you to squeak, wrapping your legs around her waist and your arms tightly around her neck. She carries you to her bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed. For someone so experienced and larger than you you expect her to be a bit more rough and uncaring. But she is a total contrast to every word you have ever heard about Carol from other girls' mouths. Always the big jock on campus who could pull any girl she wanted. She is a badass on and off the court. But you have seen a different side than the rumors. Carol is sweet and caring, she has never pressured you for anything. You’ve been together for 3 months now and she hasn’t once asked for sex when you know with others that is all she wanted. 

Carol leans back on her calves as she looks down at you sprawled out on her bed. She pulls her shirt over her head leaving her just her sports bra on. She reveals her beautiful sculpted abs and toned arms. You’re pretty sure you're drooling just looking at her.  She gives you a wink which makes you blush before she is shuffling her basketball shorts off. Her toned thighs are only covered now by the boxers she is wearing, her large bulge confined by the fabric. 

Carol leans down kissing you softly just hovering over you. “If at any time you want to stop, just tell me okay?” You nod your head in understanding. “Baby girl, I need your words.” Carol smiles reassuringly at you. “Yes I understand.” She smiles, pecking your lips. Carol’s hands move to the hem of your shirt and stop looking at you for permission. You nod with a small yes. You sit up helping her with taking your shirt off. Soon your bra follows being thrown somewhere in the room to be found later. You help Carol to finish stripping your clothes leaving you completely naked. You try to cover your body but Carol pulls your hands away. “You’re so beautiful princess, don't hide from me.”

You pull Carol down kissing her which she gladly accepts. She pulls away starting to kiss down your neck nipping and sucking as she travels down. Your breathing picks up the further she kisses down your body. Soft kisses trailing down your stomach down to your thighs. Settling herself there as she looks up at you with a lustful look in her eyes. Your breath hitching as you look at her nestled between your thighs. 

A breath of hot air hits your wet folds as Carol releases a breath sending a shiver up your spine. Your naked body in front of her for the taking. The desire to take and claim you running through her mind. But she holds back only caring for your comfort. Your first time should be special and she wanted to make it the best. She knows she loves you but it does scare her because she has never felt like this for anyone. She only sleeps around and not falls in love but you caught her heart and she wanted nothing but the best for you. 

Carol licks a strip through your folds moaning at your taste. You gasp at the new feeling, so different but so good. She circles her tongue around your clit before wrapping her lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. She sucks harshly which causes you to moan, your hand flying to her hair and lacing your fingers through her hair. You can feel her smirk against you as she continues to work over your clit. 

Breathy moans escaping your lips as Carol continues to lick and suck. One of her hands trailing up your body as she cups your breast and tweaks your nipple. Her other hand moving between your legs. Your wetness coating her finger as she teases your entrance. She slowly probes her finger at your entrance before slowly pushing one in. Your gasping as your grip on her hair tightens. She slowly pumps it in and out. Working on stretching you out to take her cock, not wanting to hurt you. She slowly adds a second finger, the stretch foreign with very little sting. “Mmm.” A tight grip on her hair as she lets you get used to the feeling. 

You have never felt like this before the pleasure building in your lower stomach as Carol brings you closer to the edge. Her tongue working your bundle of nerves and her fingers thrusting in and out of you, her fingers curling up and pressing into the sensitive spot inside of you. Your moans filling the room as Carol laps at your cunt. “Please.” You whimper as you feel so close to the edge. “I-I think I need to. Mmm fuck.” Your walls clamp down on Carol's fingers as she lightly scissors them inside of you. “A-Ahhh.” The extra stretch is slightly painful but still building you towards your high. “Cum baby girl.” Carol moans against your core, sending you over the edge. Your back arching as your thighs clamp around her head and your fingers tighten their grip. The sting in her scalp caused her to moan. Your cum coating her lower face as she laps at your folds. 

Carol works you through your high her tongue lapping at all the cum you could give her. As she slows down you come back to your senses, your chest heaving. “You did so good princess.” Carol smiles as she pulls back. Your juices coating the lower half of her face which has you blushing. You cover your face with your hands. You feel the bed shift before your hands are pulled from your face. She smiles, leaning down and kissing you roughly. You moan into her mouth when you taste yourself on her lips. This kiss is much more desperate, almost needy. You can feel her hardened length still in their confines pressing against your core. 

A whine escapes your lips the longer you feel Carol’s length pressed against you. “Please.” You mumble against her lips. She pulls back looking you in the eye as she hovers over your body. She smiles at you leaning back as she pulls her sports bra and boxers off her cock springing free as she kicks them off her feet. You lick your lips when you see her cock springs free. She leans back over you and kisses you gently leaning her head against yours. “Baby girl it’s going to hurt at first but it will feel good eventually. If it becomes too much, tell me and we will stop.” She tells you gently her length rubbing through your drenched folds. “I’m ready.” You nod.

Carol lines her length up with your entrance, the head catching lightly as she coats it in your juices. “Carol, what about a condom?” You question as she slowly pushes the head in. You grunt and hold onto her shoulders the sting and fullness just from that little bit already overwhelming. She shakes her head. “It takes away from the feeling. I hate them.” She pushes in more. “F-fuck you feel so good.” You dig your nails into the skin of her shoulders the more she pushes in. “I’ll pull out, I promise princess.” Carol says which has you nodding a tear slipping down your cheek from the painful stretch. 

You can feel the head of Carol’s cock on every ridge of your walls. Her cock slowly fills you full until she has sheathed herself inside of you. As a few tears fall she wipes them gently from your cheeks and kisses you softly, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to move. Your stretched walls feeling every vein and ridge of her cock. The pain slowly dissipates to something more manageable. You wrap your legs around Carol’s hips and grind lightly gasping at the feeling. Carol smirks slowly pulling back before lightly thrusting back in. She keeps a slow pace, her walls still stretching around her cock. 

Small moans fall from your lips as your walls get used to the feeling of being stretched. Carol snaps her hips a little too hard when she thrust which has you whimpering. “Sorry baby girl, so sorry.” She moans. “You just feel so good. So fucking tight.” All you can manage is a nod, words hard to form. Carol slowly builds her thrust up to a nice steady pace. The pain melts into pleasure. 

“Fuck so good for me. This pussy was made for me princess. Wraps around me so perfectly.” Carol grunts the gentle slapping of her hips against yours. Your hips bucking on their own accord the new found pleasure intoxicating to you. “S-so good.” Carol’s head pressed against yours as she continued thrusting. Her eyes fixed on yours watching your face morphing into one of pleasure. Your hands slipping to her back and digging your nails in. She moans at the sting as her hips speed up more. There is still pain mixed with pleasure as she pounds into you. A new feeling you never want to stop. 

Both of your orgasms are building. Carol angles her hips to where the head of her cock brushes against that spot deep inside of you, having you moaning loudly, closing your eyes and dragging your nails down her back. “O-ohhhh.” Your back arching closer as you feel Carol’s chest against yours. Your hurtling towards your second orgasm as your walls flutter around Carol’s length. “Fuck princess your squeezing me so good.” Carol pants above you, her cock twitching as she gets close.

“I’m going to fill this pussy so good. Fucking fill you so full of my seed. Maybe just get your pregnant so you're mine forever.” Carol grunts with every thrust. Your mind turns to mush as you nod along to the words falling from her lips. “Please Daddy.” Your nails are digging deeper into her back, drawing some blood. Not even noticing the words that slip from your mouth. Carol smirks her hips rutting into yours. 

Carol’s hand slips between your bodies reaching your clit and pressing her finger into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. With the added pressure on your clit you're so close. “Please s-so close.” You whine desperate to cum again. Carol is right there with you. “Cum with me princess.” Carol moans as she thrust a few more times before her hips stutter. Your walls squeezing her length so tight as you cum. Your nails scratching more at her back, your back arching impossibly closer to her. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body trembles below her. Carol feeling you cum follows not that far behind you filling you full as her hips twitch. 

You're both panting as you both come down from your high. Your eyes open to see Carol’s wide slightly panicked eyes. Your eyes widening when you realize why her eyes are so wide as you feel her cum dribbling out around her cock. “I-I’m so sorry Y/n. I got carried away a-and you felt so good.” Deep down she actually hoped that maybe you would get pregnant from this but knows that you might not be ready for that. You're quiet for a moment processing what just happened. “I-it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” You try to reassure her still being panicked since you aren’t on any birth control. 

Carol pulls out of you slowly as you wince feeling a bit sore. “Sorry princess.” Carol says seeing you wince in pain. She gets up quickly going to the bathroom and getting a washcloth to clean you both off. She comes back before gently cleaning you up before she wipes herself off. She throws the washcloth on the floor to clean up later before crawling into bed. You instantly move to curl up into her side, laying your head on her chest. She wraps her arms around you tightly. 

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Carol breaks the silence. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. You look up at her with your chin on her chest and a small smile on your face. “It’s okay. It felt really good actually.” You blush, hiding your face in her chest which makes her laugh. “I love you.” Carol chuckles until she realizes what she said. You lift your head to look up at her with a smile on your face. “I love you too Carol.” You lean up to kiss her, both of you smiling into the kiss. You pull back, settling back into her arms as you draw patterns on her chest. Both of you are happy to be in each other's arms and in love.

#carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #carol danvers smut #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader smut #carol danvers x fem!reader #carol danvers x female reader #new fic #fic request

[mammonsrockstargf]

Hey perse! I just discovered your blog and I really like your works! The sleepy MC was super relatable, and I was wondering if you could write some HCs about insomniac MC? It’s rough out here 🥱 looking forward to what you write next :D

AAAA THANK YOU I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY STUFF!! <333 Sorry to hear you’re struggling, insomnia literally sucks so hard. D:<

Hope I did your request justice, here you go~

Insomnia sucks, but do not dread! Demons do not need as much sleep as humans, which means they can devote plenty of time to helping you fall asleep instead!

The first thing Lucifer notices is the delayed reflexes and clumsiness. He originally thinks it’s just because you’re a human. Then he notices that you're quite frustrated with it which confuses him, because if that's the standard for humans then surely you'd be used to it, right? Still, he decides to observe you for a little while, before he confronts you.

It all collides one morning, when you drop your cup of coffee and burn your wrist, causing you to wince. Lucifer is immediately there, tending to you. "Are you hurt? Do you need ice on it?" You pull your hand to yourself and bite your lip, frustrated with it all. "I'm fine," you say, but now that he's close to you he finally notices the bags around your eyes. "Why do you look so tired?" he asks. You blink at him, baffled by his bluntness. "Just haven't been sleeping right," you eventually answer.

He immediately brainstorms how he can fix it. Do you need a new bed? Another pillow? Is the temperature in your room alright? He's very attentive after that and always assures you that the door to his office is open whenever you can't sleep.

Mammon notices that you have a hard time paying attention or focusing. You seem to doze off and stare into space often. He'll wave his hands in front of you. "Hey, human, you payin' attention?" he'll say and pout at you. He's such a whiner when your full attention isn't on him. "Sorry, Mams, I'm just tired," you say. "Yeah? Feel free to come to my room if you can't sleep," he'll offer an wink, despite his cheeks heating up.

He honestly doesn't expect you to take him up on his offer until he hears your soft knocking on his door. He immediately stumbles out of bed and throws his door open, grinning widely. When he catches your dissatisfied sleepy face, he tries to hold back a bit on his delight, obviously your discomfort is not a good thing, but he can't help being ecstatic that you're actually in his bed.

Leviathan notices because you always stay up really late with him to play video games. Don’t get him wrong, he likes playing with you, like a lot, but whenever he suggests going to bed, you always refuse. “One more game, please, Levi?” Come on, how can he say no to you? It’s just that one game always turns into three and the next thing he knows you’ve played for another hour.

One day he gathers up enough courage to ask you why and when you tell him you can’t fall asleep he immediately softens up. “Well, I, uh, so do you want to, maybe, I don’t know, sleep here?” His face is flushed but he insists that maybe it’ll be easier for you to sleep in the tub instead of your bed. You do sleep better that night, but it's not because of the tub, it's more because of Levi's calming breath and the slow heaving of his chest when he sleeps. After that, you often stay the night when you've played video games together and on the nights you have a particularly hard time falling asleep, you just lay there and listen to him sleep.

Satan reads for you until you fall asleep. He doesn't care how long it takes, he'll let you lay on his chest, while he reads for literal hours and he doesn't stop until he's absolutely sure that you're sleeping.

Like with sleepy MC, he'll begin to research why you can't sleep. He'll ask you if you're feeling stressed, offer to do your homework or if he needs to tell Lucifer to give you fewer chores. If he catches you drinking coffee or energy drinks, he'll tell you that those can actually worsen your sleep quality.

It gets to a point were you have to tell him that he's being kinda annoying about it. He'll frown and apologize. "I was just trying to help but I see that I might have overstepped." He's being dramatic here. Give him a couple of kisses and he's back at it again.

Whenever you wake too early in the morning and simply cannot lay in bed any longer Asmodeus is the one you go to. He's always up early, doing his skincare routine. He lets you sit in his bed, wrapped up in blankets, all bleary-eyed and with messy hair, while he’ll sit by his vanity. He thinks you look absolutely lovely, so sleepy and he'll look at you through the mirror, fighting the urge to smile and accidentally ruin his make-up.

Once he's done, he'll bring you to his chair and offer to do your skincare or makeup if you wear that. He'll take extra care, messaging your skin and shoulders. The sensation sometimes almost lulls you back to sleep.

Beelzebub absolutely hates it when you're cranky or depressed. "What's wrong?" he'll ask and when you tell him it's just because you didn't get any sleep, he gets quite confused. Humans get cranky if they don't get enough sleep? That seems awfully inconvenient...

I like to think that Beel is one of the best cuddlers of the brothers. He just has that build you know? He'll spoon you, wrap his arm around your waist and press kisses to your hair. If you ask, he'll tell you stories about his brothers, slowly lowering his voice to a point where it's just a low whisper. He waits till your breathing slows and he knows you're asleep. Then he'll kiss your head good night and go to sleep himself.

When you tell Belphegor that you have trouble sleeping, he doesn’t really understand you. What do you mean you can’t sleep? But you’re tired? Just go to bed?

Honestly, he’s kind of annoying about it but when he realizes that you genuinely just cannot sleep he apologizes. I don’t remember if this is ever addressed in the game, but I like to think that being around Belphegor actually makes humans kind of sleepy and because of that, naps are really nice with him because you actually manage to get some proper sleep.

Sometimes, Belphie and Beel team up and you all sleep together in the attic. You'll have Belphie facing you, face hidden in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you tightly. Then you'll have Beel behind you, an arm thrown over the both of you. It's the perfect combo, that helps you actually sleep through the night.

thank you for reading! <3 find my other stuff here.

#perse fics #perse fluff #perse headcanons #perse requests #perse inbox #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me fluff #obey me x you #obey me headcanon #obey me brothers #obey me fic #obey me x mc #om! shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #lucifer #mammon #leviathan

[geebeeskoos]

I can certainly see why people are obsessed about the slow burn reading of narumitsu, the one where they wait for 7, 9 or even more years before they ever do anything romantic together, but. Their relationship in the trilogy era could be so, so interesting and complicated and yet so. Warm and full of comfort.

Just... Two traumatized and mentally ill men trying their best to figure out this relationship thing. Phoenix remembering what it's like to have a romantic partner again, after being betrayed, after being left behind, and now confronting his abandonment issues. Edgeworth learning how to love somebody, and now trying to express it, perhaps searching for his own ways of doing so.

Yes, they encounter a number of problems. Edgeworth gets this nagging feeling at times that he's too broken for a romantic relationship, that he's a parasite leaching on another person's care and affection, thus at times he acts aloof and withdrawn. Phoenix gets paranoid that he'll end up completely alone again very soon, whenever he notices Edgeworth getting so cold all of a sudden. Edgeworth genuinely thinks at the worst moments that the right thing to do is to just break up right now so he doesn't waste any more of Phoenix' time. Phoenix is anxious that one day Edgeworth can just disappear on him again without saying a word. Edgeworth feels forever indebted for everything Phoenix did to help him, and now when he notices his partner struggling he wants to do the same for him, but he doesn't even know why Phoenix is troubled, and even less about how to help him. Phoenix is less than honest sometimes on how he feels because he really thinks that his problems are nothing compared to Edgeworth's, but he can't help but feel bitter nevertheless that his partner isn't that helping. And then feels like a petty person for that bitterness and knows that he can't be actually cross at Edgeworth for not being a mind-reader. If truth be told, they both think that the other "has it worse", so they both make the same mistake of not opening up fully until something not very good occurs.

"But why didn't you tell me anything??" They both ask each other. Often. But the important thing is, is that they get to ask that eventually. Say sorry to each other. And then move on knowing each other a little bit better, and maybe not repeating the same mistake in the future. At least, the chances are lower now.

Would it be unhealthy for them to be together in that era? Well, depends on your definition of the word 'unhealthy', but I'm a firm believer that it's better to figure out things together, with your loved one, and that's what they are doing. Healing goes much smoother when you have mutual support. And sometimes hurt people can understand and help other hurt people better than any 'healthy' person can. You are in pain, and I'm also in pain, so I understand how you feel and want to help you get through this. It's all about trust and empathy. And isn't it the core of narumitsu and their relationship?

So basically, while it takes a lot of work for them to be together at this point, it is worthwhile. And that is why I prefer the interpretation that they have something going on already in the trilogy. I really want them to struggle, but make it work. I want their relationship to begin not in the best possible moment, perhaps, but to grow more comfortable and mature with years regardless. It is not ideal and far from the perfection, and that is exactly why it's so real and beautiful.

#or you could say I'm just not a fan of slow burn when it gets too ridiculous #also I've always read them as aware of everything. including each others' feelings #maybe it's just one of my pet peeves showing but i don't vibe with nrmt being “oh no... but what if it's.... unrequited........” #anyway I know a couple or two with a similar history *cough* so my headcanons actually have a solid foundation #aa #ace attorney #narumitsu #wrightworth #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth

[vashs-turtleneck]

Desperate.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ only)

Summary: What happens after Vash almost loses you. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Word Count: .8k CW: smut, pwp, slightly rough sex, penetrative sex, angst, crying AN: wrote most of this while I was at work ehehe so it's not really proofread

Desperate!Vash, whose heart sinks deep into the pit of his stomach whenever you get hurt or put yourself in the line of danger. A bullet flying past your head, barely missing your temple. He sees it coming, his sharp eyes watching its trajectory, yet he's not fast enough, he's not strong enough, and the only reason you're still alive is by sheer dumb luck. A little to the left, a little higher, and it would have been over, the flame of you permanently extinguished, his heart hammering away in his chest at the realization that he almost just watched you die. His hold on you is always a bit tighter after these moments, clinging to you and keeping you in his line of sight at all times. You won't get hurt. Not again. Whatever it takes, he'll keep you safe. 

Desperate!Vash, who pushes you against the nearest surface as soon as the door to your shared room is closed, pulling you closer and away from prying eyes, taking your mouth in a feverish kiss that threatens to crash your teeth together every time your lips meet. His strong body presses your back into the wooden door, caging you against him. You're exactly where he wants you, exactly where he can see you. Wrapped up in his arms, encased between the door and his broken body, you're safe. 

Desperate!Vash, who lifts you by your hips, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his tapered waist. He presses your back against the closest wall, his hands pulling at you– at your clothes, at your hair, at your hips– needing you closer. However close, it's not close enough. He can't be asked to take it slow, not right now, as he hurriedly unbuttons your pants and pulls them down to your knees. He tears your underwear off, leaving it to dangle loosely between the two of you before he's already shoving two long and dexterous fingers inside you. It's quick, sloppy, his fingers pumping harshly into that sweet spot inside you that has your body quaking until his hand is dripping in your arousal.

Desperate!Vash, who fumbles with his own pants, shaky hands making him struggle with his belt and zipper. He can't get them off fast enough. Just like your own pants, he doesn't bother himself with taking them off completely. He pushes them down just far enough to free himself, his cock springing from the confines of his boxers, groaning as he feels himself throbbing in the cold air.

His hands grip you, calloused palms spreading your delicate flesh as he presses the tip of himself to your entrance, a brief warning before pushing forward and completely sheathing himself in you with one sharp roll of his hips, pulling the breath from your lungs. He hisses through gritted teeth, your body barely prepped enough to accommodate the sheer girth of him. He stifles your cries of pain and pleasure with his lips, swallowing your sounds before pulling back and leaning against the side of your head. He brokenly whispers his sweet apologies, heartbreakingly chanting “I’m sorry” over and over again like a hopeless prayer as he begins swaying his hips and slamming you down onto his cock with a frenzied, almost angry rhythm that has your nails digging into the fabric of his crimson jacket.

Desperate!Vash, who knows he's not giving you the tenderness you deserve, and the guilt is enough to eat him whole, yet he can't stop. His body feels like it's burning, crumbling under the weight of knowing that he almost lost you, overwhelming his better judgment. He needs to remind himself– you're with him, you're here, you're safe, you're alive. His actions are primal, his body moving on pure instinct, the pain and guilt he keeps buried deep bubbling up. He shoves the bottom of his shirt into his mouth, teeth clenching into the fabric, holding it up to make sure nothing gets in the way of the frenetic rhythm of his cock sinking into you, and giving you a tantalizing view of the quick undulations of his lower half.

Desperate!Vash, who lets his head fall to your shoulder when he cums, sobbing into the divot of your collarbone, whimpering his apologies and praises, how much he loves you, how much he needs you. He can't live without you, and yet he'll be the reason he loses you. The crushing weight of reality floods him to the core, crippling his body with fear and grief. His arms tighten their hold on you, wishing that he didn't ever have to let you go, that another day didn't have to come so that he could never have to risk losing you.

Desperate!Vash, who only knows what his life was before you, what it is with you, and he prays to a God he doesn't believe in every time he's faced with the reality that one day, should he be cursed to live so long, there will be a time after you.

divider.

#vash the stampede #trigun #vash the stampede x you #vash x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #vash smut #vash x reader smut #vash the stampede x reader smut #vash x you smut #vash the stampede x you smut #trigun smut

[animexts]

Paring: OPLA!Koby X Pirate!Reader

Warnings: This has a little bit of Smut, a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff lol

Koby doesn't know exactly how he ended up in this situation, he just knows he can't leave. He doesn't even know where his shirt is, she took it off him body a long time ago, the only thing he knows is that he loves having Y/n straddling his waist like that.

"This is wrong." He says pulling away from the kiss.

"And what would you do if it wasn't wrong?" Y/n says, bending down and placing a kiss on his neck.

"If it wasn't wrong... I would touch you like that." He says, putting his hands inside her blouse looking into Y/n's eyes before putting his hands inside her bra, making her moan with her eyes closed and him sigh when he feels her nipples

You can, baby you can." Y/n says holding Koby's hands on her breasts making him squeeze lightly.

"But-" Before he can respond, Y/n kisses him again, a slow and sensual kiss, she pecks his lower lip with her teeth, making him moan softly.

They separate a little and his hands return to her thighs.

"You know I can't stay, I-" He stops talking when she starts to take off her shirt, so she's left in just her bra, still straddling his waist.

"What were you saying, love?" She asks with a mischievous smile, and he swallows hard.

"I- He stops again watching her take off her bra slowly, and while looking into his eyes.

"You don't need to hold back my love." She says throwing the bra aside.

Koby looks at her breasts and feels her breathing quicken

When noticing this, Y/n takes both of Koby's hands, and places them on her breasts, making him squirm beneath her.

"You're really stressed lately, let me make you relax." Y/n says kissing his bare chest until she reaches his mouth again, kissing his mouth intensely.

Wait Y/n-" He says in the middle of the kiss making her pull away a little.

"You don't want this?" Y/n says tilting her head.

"No, I just... you're a pirate and-" And once again, Koby stops talking when he sees Y/n getting off of him and going to get his shirt.

"Wait Y/n please listen to me." He says sitting down, seeing her sitting on the bed next to him and adjusting the shirt on her body.

"I already understand Koby, you're disgusted by me, aren't you? Because I'm a pirate you think I'm dirty or something? Look, I'm not going to steal from you or anything, I just really liked you-" This time she is interrupted with Koby's lips on hers

He lays her on the bed during the kiss, this time being on top.

They pull away after a while and Koby gives her a little kiss on the cheek.

"Don't be silly, I would never think something like that about you." He says with a fond smile, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"You have no idea how much my heart beats for you." He says caressing her belly under her shirt.

"But we can't be together, can we?" He stops and looks into her eyes, wondering if it was hurting her as much as it was hurting him.

"No, my love."

She closes her eyes and lets the tears fall.

"Please don't cry." He says feeling his eyes burn.

He lays his face on her chest, and they both just cry for a while.

Then... Koby takes her hand, and intertwines her fingers.

In a silent promise that they would fight for this relationship.

────────────────────

Maybe I'll make a sequel or something 👀

I would like to give a special thanks to @fanaticsnail It was this wonderful person who encouraged me to post this, thank you!! 😭😭💞

Please read her work, I promise you won't regret it.

#koby one piece #koby x reader #koby #one piece x reader #one piece zoro #one piece luffy #one piece #oneshots #one peice #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #one piece smut

[fadedin2u]

pick up and roll the dice (ch. 1)

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Ellie since she moved into your neighborhood in elementary school, and now, you’re sharing a dorm room together at college. What could go wrong when you both start reading between the lines? Based on the song Hold On by The Internet.

word count: 2.5k

content: childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, college!au, modern!au, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a little bit of a player, ellie is a simp (not surprising), art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

warnings: sexual harassment (mentioned), drug usage (weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

notes: this is my first fic i’ve written for tlou, and it’s about damn time bc i’ve been lurking in the ellie williams x reader tags for months lmao, hope you enjoy! next chapter should be out by the end of the weekend! reblogs/likes are much appreciated :) let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

You’re welcomed into your dorm room by the smell of pot smoke. You walk in, already in a foul mood, shaking with adrenaline and anxiety. You drop your bag on the floor and kick off your shoes.

Ellie, your roommate and close friend since childhood, is sitting on her twin bed, leaning out the window as she smokes a joint. She’s dressed casually in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, her auburn hair haphazardly thrown up into a half-bun, most strands too short to all be gathered into a single bun. When she catches sight of you, she immediately can tell something is up.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, tapping the ash from her joint out the window.

You walk over to Ellie’s bed and melodramatically collapse face-first with a “Hmmph.”

“I’m dropping out.” You deadpan, your voice muffled by Ellie’s duvet.

Ellie takes a long drag from her joint and exhales a puff of smoke before turning to you, her eyebrows raised. “Huh? What?”

She sits up, holding the joint between her fingers before she gestures for you to clarify.

“You can’t drop out. What’re you gonna do all day? Sit around and eat Oreos?”

You stay face-planted onto Ellie’s bed.

“Yup. And I’ll be lazy and happy.” You say.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint inside of Ellie to not shove you off of her bed right this second. Instead, she leans forward and nudges your shoulder with her knee.

"Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Angel-Face. Get up. You sound like a dumbass right now.”

You roll over, and Ellie notices that your eyes are red and puffy, clearly having cried before coming back to the dorm.

“Hey! I’m having a crisis!” You exclaim, folding your arms over your chest.

Ellie’s face softens and her eyebrows furrow, concerned. “Hey… What’s going on? Want some of this?” She offers the joint to you.

You take it gratefully, taking a long drag. You shake her head, looking down at your miniskirt. “I really need to stop wearing this skirt in public… When I was walking back here, two dudes started following me and saying weird, gross shit. I tried telling them off, but I must have looked so pathetic that they just laughed… They followed me almost the whole way here.”

You pass the joint back to Ellie, saying sarcastically, “So, yes. In conclusion, I’m dropping out.”

Ellie is stunned silent. Her high buzz instantly fades and she reaches out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Ellie doesn't say anything at first, but she looks down at you with a worried expression on her face.

She puts out her half-finished joint, and scoots forward on the bed towards you. Her expression is stern and angry, and she seems utterly furious on your behalf.

“Did those fucking pieces of shit touch you? Did you call the cops?”

As she’s speaking, Ellie’s entire demeanor changes, and it’s obvious how upset these men made her. Ellie always seems to have a lot of rage built-up inside of her, but it’s amplified now.

You bite your lip, looking down.

“They didn’t touch me… I didn’t call the cops. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I should have called someone, but I was so freaked out, and… I’m sorry, Els.” You say quietly.

Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you towards her.

"It's okay, babe. It's not your fault."

Ellie leans forward to hug you tightly, rubbing your back.

"Those dickwipes should have never said anything to you. Let alone touched you. If they ever do that again, you tell me, and I'll take care of it."

Ellie takes a deep breath and sighs. She leans back against the wall and pulls you with her, keeping you close. You allow yourself to be pulled into Ellie’s hold, grateful, and you feel tears press at the back of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to cry again.” You say, hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie wraps her arms around you tighter, comforting you.

"Hey. It's alright to cry. Let it all out." She murmurs soothingly. "Don't be ashamed. You were just fucking harassed."

She holds you, continuing to rub your back and kissing the top of your head. Ellie feels sick at the thought of you hurting or struggling alone.

You sniffle as a few tears run down your cheeks, still hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

“I just don’t understand what I can possibly do in those situations. And I feel like they happen all the fucking time.”

You wipe your face, “Like fucking yesterday! When I got catcalled at 8AM by the construction workers working on the new science building, and I was just trying to get to class!”

You shake your head, “I just feel so helpless in those situations, because they don’t even see me as a real person.”

"Well, you gotta make them see you as a force to be reckoned with." Ellie says, her voice stern.

She pauses, and lets out an exhale.

"These guys obviously aren't going to stop catcalling and harassing women, so either we ignore the comments, or we learn how to respond. It's a fucking shame that it has to be this way but..."

Ellie sighs and leans back. She rubs your shoulder with one hand, and her other hand gently rests on your thigh.

You feel your cheeks go hot, hyper-focused on Ellie’s hand on your leg.

“But, Els… I can’t fight for shit. There’s no way those guys could ever be intimidated by me the way you can intimidate them.”

You wipe your face, embarrassed by your tears. “Like, how could they possibly see me as anything other than a ‘slut who’s asking for it’, if I recall what they wouldn’t stop saying to me correctly.” You say, quoting the men who followed you home.

Ellie leans in a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.

"I think that my girl can kick ass and dish it out as good as she takes it." Ellie's expression looks serious, and she gently squeezes your thigh as she speaks.

"Like, have you ever seen those videos on Instagram where girls absolutely own some big dudes? That'll be you, dude. Trust me, I know exactly what you're capable of. You just gotta learn how to take up space."

You laugh a little, wiping your face again.

“Is this you telling me that I need to take a boxing class?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ellie chuckles, and smiles as she squeezes your leg again.

"Hell yeah. Take a boxing class. I wanna see you punch a fuckin' guy's lights out the next time he wants to harass you."

Ellie pauses and takes a deep breath.

"If you're worried about money for lessons or fuck-all, you know I got your back, right?" Ellie says earnestly. "And if there's any guy who's giving you problems, just say the fucking word and I'll kick their ass for you."

You laugh again, sniffling as you hug Ellie.

“My knight in shining armor.” You joke.

You pull back, taking a breath. “Thank you though, seriously. Today was just an overall shitty day, and I’m just glad that I get to come back to our dorm and be with my best friend.”

"Anytime." Ellie's expression is soft as she smiles at you.

Ellie glances at the joint on her bedside table, and glances back at you.

"Wanna hit that? Or are you tapped-out?"

You go to pick up the joint, and use Ellie’s lighter to re-light it.

“Me? Tapping out? Please-“ You say as you smile at Ellie, taking a drag.

Ellie chuckles, watching you with a fond smile.

You pass the joint to Ellie. “Besides, I’m chilling the fuck out tonight. Today was garbage, and I don’t want to keep thinking about anything.”

Ellie chuckles and shakes her head as she takes the joint.

"I feel so bad that you had such a fucking awful day. I know you've been going through some stuff recently, so today was the absolute last thing you needed."

Ellie inhales a long drag, and looks down at you.

"Can I ask you something, though?"

You nod, “Yeah, what’s up?”

You take the joint, hit it, and pass it back to Ellie.

Ellie takes another inhale and holds the smoke in for a moment.

"Do you ever just... like... hate men?" she looks at you. "I mean, you know... with everything you experience, and the guys you described today. Like, you ever just look at a guy, and immediately start hating him?"

Ellie pauses, taking another hit, "I mean, it's all I can think about, half the time, and I just... I can't fucking stand them most of the time."

You sigh, taking a hit from the joint and nodding.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. I wish that most men didn’t act the way they do, but they do. It’s kinda hard not to hate people who objectify and demean you every day of your life just for existing.”

Ellie pauses before speaking, "Do you think that Joel might ever be like that? I mean, I don't think so. He's a good guy and all. Just... you never know."

Ellie pauses and sighs. She's obviously been worrying about this for a while.

"Am I being dumb? Am I being stupid for thinking like that? I don't know. I just… I'm worried that, one day, people I love like Jesse and my dad are going to turn out to be a couple of fucking perverts."

You pause, having known Joel for years, taking a hit from the joint.

“I- I don’t know. I think they’re good people, especially Joel, but you never really know, until they slip up,” You say.

You squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, “I do really think that Joel is one of my favorite people I’ve gotten the chance to know, and I have crazy high standards for men. Your dad would never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t think he’d do anything to any one else either.”

You pass the joint to Ellie.

Ellie takes the joint and inhales, then passes it back to you.

"Yeah, you're right. You're totally right, and I know that. It's just hard, because I have such a negative image of guys right now, but you're right."

Ellie leans back and relaxes, "I just feel like I've been having some trust issues lately, and it sucks, and I've been… paranoid about people."

She pauses, and her voice starts to falter. "I just don't want to be let down like I have, you know?”

You nudge Ellie’s leg with your knee, “Hey. I won’t let you down. Or, at least, I’ll always try to not let you down, no matter what.”

You smile at Ellie, “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”

Ellie's eyes light up, “That's right. We will always have each other's backs. We’re always going to be there for each other."

Ellie takes a hit from the joint, and leans back. "I love you, you know that? Even though I've been a total bitch, these last few weeks… I need you more than you could possibly know."

Ellie pauses and looks down at you. "You are, without a doubt, the best friend I've ever had in my whole life."

You take the joint from Ellie, hitting it with a smile on your face as you internally curse yourself for getting flustered. Your head feels fuzzy from the weed.

“The feeling is mutual.” You say, passing Ellie the joint.

“I never got to ask, by the way, but how was your date with that girl… Kaylee? Karlie?” You ask to change the subject, trying to remember the name of Ellie’s latest of many campus flings.

Ellie laughs, "It's Kylie." she corrects, smirking and nudging your thigh.

"The date was a fun distraction, even though Kylie is a complete airhead. And, uh..." Ellie pauses, her face warming with embarrassment.

"...she tried to kiss me, and I completely froze.”

Ellie takes a hit and shakes her head, "I can't believe that I turned her down! She's cute and a fuckin’ cheerleader. I should have gone for it, I probably ruined my chances with her."

You laugh a little, pushing down the spikes of jealousy piercing your chest.

“Ellie Williams froze when a girl tried to kiss her?” You tease, knowing that Ellie is normally fairly bold.

“What happened? Were you too nervous or something?” You ask, taking a hit from the joint and passing it back to Ellie.

Ellie's face is a mix of embarrassment and frustration as you tease her. Ellie pauses, thinking.

"...Well, I froze because... I… I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl, but she's so... shallow."

Ellie sighs, taking a hit from the joint, and leans back.

"I'm a horrible dater, I know. I just have such a hard time connecting with people, I don't know."

You frown, “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. She just doesn’t sound like the right girl, and that’s totally fine. You don’t need to get mad at yourself for not having an instant connection with a girl just because she’s hot.”

You pass the joint to Ellie, “Okay, you have the rest.”

Ellie smiles at you as she takes a hit and holds it in.

Ellie lets it out and shakes her head. "...Yeah, you're right. I just think I'm just trying so hard to find a connection with someone, y'know?"

"It's just hard to really trust someone new… I've been hurt by a lot of people in my life, and the last thing I want is to get hurt again." Ellie explains, her freckled cheeks rosy.

You sigh, “It is really scary to be vulnerable like that with people, I… I really fucking get that.”

You play with the hem of your skirt as you talk, “But there are people who are good, and trustworthy, and won’t leave you in the dust. I mean, you’re proof of that for me.”

Ellie's expression softens as she looks over at you

"I guess we are really similar in that way. We're both traumatized, we're both paranoid, and we're both distrustful. Fuck, who could blame us?" Ellie says with a shrug.

Ellie pauses, "I'm just glad I have you. You're the only people who I think I can really be myself around. Everyone else can fuck off. But not you."

Your stoned, hazy mind is thankfully quiet as you lean against Ellie, the two of you sat side-by-side on her bed.

Ellie’s cheeks get more pink as you do, her eyes half-lidded and red as she pulls you into her.

“Just… Relax. You really fucking deserve it.” Ellie says softly, her voice low and raspy from the smoke.

You nuzzle your face into her shirt, closing your eyes as you melt into her, and everything is good.

Ellie looks down at you, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She looks back up at the ceiling, clenching her eyes shut as she thinks, I’m fucked.

chapter 2

texts with ellie and reader

#Spotify #ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou #rose writes #pick up and roll the dice

[holybibly]

let me just say sadistic dom Yeosang is driving me fucking crazy. like just imagine he’s this soft spoken, polite gentleman in public but the second you guys are alone be ready to be fucking wrecked.

god he will drive you fucking crazy with the number of times he’ll edge you.

“come on baby you can take another one.”

he lives off of just hearing your whiny moans and your little mewls every time he hits that’s one place that makes you see fucking stars.

you can tell this man has taken up my entire brain at this point.

And here is another of my brave bunnies. Hey baby, how are you?

Mmm, sadistic Yeosang with that angelic face, yes, yes, yes and a thousand times more yes.

As Yeosang's thin, long fingers squeezed your throat, you whimpered loudly and shook your head weakly from side to side. Vague dark spots appear and disappear throughout the night as he tightens and loosens his grip on your throat, enjoying the way he can control the way you breathe.

He especially enjoys watching your sweet face contort with painful pleasure, and it really gets him excited. He couldn't wait for you to come back from the award so that he could finally ruin you for good. All that sweet smiling and behaving so perfectly—he didn't care; all Yeosang could think about was you lying naked on his bed.

You gasp when he lets go of you, gasping for breath. All your nerves are tensed and tingling, as if electrified. The expression on his gorgeous face sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. He's just so fucking amazing.

Soft and needy, sultry and dark, cold and burning—Yeosang could choose any role he wanted, and you loved every single one of them to the point of madness.

But this new expression on his handsome face is one that has never been seen before. It is an intense, all-consuming, hot look that sends a shiver down the length of your spine.

As you feel your velvet walls flutter around Yeosang's cock, alerting you to the building sensation of an orgasm, your train of thought is interrupted. And it was no good.

"S-Sangie please."

"Yeah, Petal, I hear ya."

"C-Can you stop, please? I'm so sensitive; this is too much for me. I'm not going to be able to handle it if I cum again." You can barely manage to whisper it out; your throat is still a bit sore from his tight grip on you.

You see something dangerous sparkle in his normally gentle, sparkling eyes. He stops in the middle of his movements. There is a sigh of relief as you think he will stop now and release the tension from your muscles. You let out a hoarse cry as he throws your leg over his shoulder and bites the inside of your calf with a light nip. At this point, Yeosang could hardly be described as a cute puppy.

"Yeosang?" A gleam of hope in your eyes. You really can't stand it any longer. What was this orgasm—the third or fourth?

"Of course we'll pause, sweetheart. But first, you give me one more."

You whine as he rolls his hips around and watches with a smug smile as your eyes roll back into your head.

Yeosang lifts up your other leg so that it rests on his other shoulder. Your hands clench into the sheets, trying to find something to hold on to. But it doesn't help much. The muscles in your legs are twitching and spasming as you come again and lose count of how many.

Yeosang slows his rough pace, watching his cock disappear in and out of you. He hums softly with satisfaction as he sees how much of your cum coats his cock as he pulls it out of your used, sensitive cunt. And he thought of that all evening, while he had to be polite and courteous to everyone around him.

"Oh God, Yeosang, please, it hurts. I can't stand it any longer."

"It's too much for you, my darling? I think you can do this for me a lot more times than that."

He smirks, then leans in closer, nipping at your lower lip and folding you in half. You gasp as his hand tightens around your throat again. God, all those muscles aren't fucking kidding.

"Or do you just want to make me even more angry?"

Your eyes widen as he fucks you harder, faster, and deeper. Drowning in an endless ocean of pleasurable pain that borders on pleasure, you scream from your hypersensitivity.

"Yeosang! I can't take it!"

"Is it too much for your overstimulated cunt?"

"Y-yes, please."

"It's good, though, is it not?" he asks. Don't you love the way I screw you, my love?"

You sob openly as he fucks you harder, the muscles in your legs burning from straining and stretching.

"No, I-I love it. I love it when you use me, Sangie."

"There's my good girl. Cum for me one more time, darling."

"I can't!" You're literally on the verge of hysteria, but something in you still doesn't want to let him down. God, you've completely fooled him.

"Yes, you can. And you will."

Your hips lift slightly off the bed to meet his thrusts, and you feel your walls tighten around Yeosang's cock. With your vision fading and your whole body shaking, you moan long and hard as you come again. Yeosang moans so softly that it turns into a growl, causing your eyes to fly open as you see the desperate look on his face. He stops in his tracks, bites his lower lip hard, and fills you with his cum.

You whimper as he lowers your legs down until they are on either side of his hips, his hands releasing your neck. His hands are released from around your neck, and you take a full, deep breath.

"I told you that you could do it, my darling."

Yeosang kisses you too tenderly and pulls out, watching with a sense of self-satisfaction as his cum oozes out of your pussy.

"Are you going to tell me what it was that made you so angry that you decided to literally fuck the life out of me?"

"Nothing really; it's just you, darling."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #yeosang smut #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang smut

[pantherxrogers]

Are You In? - Luca x Reader x Carmy (eventually) 18+ ONLY Pt. 1

Content warnings: explicit language, smut (18+ only), male masturbation, a hint of voyeurism (reader watches Carmy), eventual threesome

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Luca and deeply in love with him. But, Carmy comes to Copenhagen and crashes at their shared flat. When she catches him in the act, why can't she get the image out of her mind?

A/N: SURPRISEEEE! :P Part 1 of the (eventual) Reader/Luca/Carmy threesome! Honestly, I might have to make this more than three parts. We'll see how I feel. The full threesome doesn't happen in this chapter (probably not in the next either). We've got a bit of a slow-burn on our hands, which I usually don't write. Let's see how it plays out, lmao!

The sound of breaking glass jolts you awake. Your heart's racing before you take in the familiar surroundings. Stretched out on the couch, Real Housewives reruns play on the large TV in the center of the family room. One of the women just threw a drink across the table, starting a cat fight. You chuckle to yourself, watching as the rest of the scene plays out.

The show actually wakes you up a little bit. As they plan a dinner party, you ponder what you all will eat tonight. Glancing down at your frayed tank top and sweats, you're definitely not getting out to grab groceries. Takeout it is.

Sending off a quick text to Luca, you ask him about Italian food for dinner. He agrees quickly. You figure you'll go ask Carmy if he'll be eating with you guys tonight.

He's visiting you and Luca at your flat in Copenhagen, having flown out to get some inspiration for his own restaurant. As far as houseguests go, he's nearly perfect. He cleans up after himself and always offers to help you guys out around the house.

Slinking off the couch, you head down the hallway towards Carmy's room. When you arrive at his door, it's slightly cracked. There's a possibility that he left to try some restaurants while you were napping, but it can't hurt to peek in really quick. Boy, were you wrong.

It's an erotic sight, and you can't tear your eyes away. Airpods rest in his ears, lewd moans leaking from them.

Carmy's soft groans fill the air. He stands over the bed. One knee propped up on the mattress, while he pumps his aching cock. He's only wearing a pair of black boxers, pulled down just enough for him to stroke himself.

His head is thrown back, showing the veins running along the column of his neck. A thin gold necklace rests there, and a brief image of it dangling in your face passes through your mind.

His tattooed bicep flexes with every pump of his shaft. He strokes himself from base to tip, precum oozing out. When he reaches the tip, he squeezes the sensitive skin, bucking into his own hand.

"Shit," he moans out, clearly in his own world. He uses his other hand to cup his sack, pushing himself closer to the edge.

"Fuuuuuuck," he groans, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Teasing himself, he runs a hand down his abs and back up to tug on his nipple. A light layer of sweat covers his skin. It resembles oil, highlighting the definition of each muscle. The sight goes straight to your clit, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Carmy pauses, bending down to push his boxers towards his ankles. He kneels on the the mattress, haphazardly reaching for a pillow. You watch in shock as he bucks into the pillow, working his cock into the cool fabric, desperate for a release.

He's biting his bottom lip, humping the pillow like a starved man. Finding a steady rhythm, his toned thighs tense with every stroke. You can't help but imagine if this is what he would look like while he pounds into you. His strokes are deep and drawn out, making you even wetter.

He pauses his hips, resting back on his heels. Bringing a hand up to his mouth, he spits into his rough palm. You audibly gasp, prompting Carmy's to blue eyes cut into your own.

"Fuck!" he shouts, scrambling to cover himself with the pillow. He quickly stands, reaching down to pull up the plain boxers, unsuccessfully concealing his hard-on.

"I'm so sorry!" You blurt out, too shocked to do anything else. You're looking anywhere but at him, blood rushing in your ears. The only sound is the rustle of fabric as Carmy digs around for something to cover his body.

"I-, I swear I didn't know. I came to ask you if you wanted Italian for dinner tonight," you ramble, ringing your hands as you try to think of a plausible excuse for your behavior.

Rapidly nodding his head, Carmy pulls a t-shirt over his body, radiating just as much nervous energy as you.

"Yeah, yeah, Italian is fine," he stammers out. His cheeks are bright red and it carries down to his neck, made even more obvious by the black t-shirt he's pulled on.

"Shit, Carm, I'm so sorry. I totally shouldn't have barged in like that" you cry out, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

"No, it's fine, I swear. I should've locked the door," he replies, cheeks still flaming. He's across the room now, digging through the drawers for some pants to throw on.

"No, this is totally on me. I'm sorry, again," you tell him before turning away to hide in your bedroom.

What the fuck just happened?

Is all you can think to yourself as you sit on the large bed in the center of the room you share with Luca. The reminder causes more guilt to well up in your stomach. You love Luca with all your heart and can't imagine a life without him.

Then, why did the image of Carmy jerking off cause you to change your panties?

"Ugh, fuck," you grumble, plopping down onto the soft duvet. Staring up at the ceiling, you know there's only one thing that might make you feel better. You're reaching for your phone before you can think better off it. Of course, he picks up on the first ring.

"Hey Luca," you sigh out, toying with one of your dark curls.

"Hey love, what's up?" You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, likely heading towards the walk-in freezer for privacy.

"I'm so embarrased right now." Your voice breaks, an embarrassed tear running down your cheek. The reality of the moment is sinking in, and the sound of Luca's voice is only making you feel more guilty.

"Woah, woah, what's happened?" His voice is steady and calm, trying to keep the panic out of his tone. He's worried, but he doesn't want to overwhelm you when your emotions are running so high.

"I-, I walked in on Carmy," you whisper, the blood rushing back up to your cheeks. Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you feel like you've just announced it to the world.

The line is quiet for a while, before you're met with a low chuckle.

"Are you laughing right now?" The way your voice has risen three octaves, only makes Luca laugh harder.

"Shit, I'm sorry love," he chokes out, in between bouts of laughter. His reaction actually makes you feel a little better. You nibble on your lip to stop small smile that's forming.

"How are you so amused right now?!"

"How are you not?!" He's nearly hysterical at this point, causing a giggle to slip through your lips.

"Luca, c'mon, be serious," you whine out, fighting back your own laughter. You hear him taking deep breaths, trying to reign himself back in.

"Sorry, love, I hear you. Go ahead," he answers, but you can still hear the smile in his voice. You groan playfully, but continue.

"I swear it was a total accident. I was going to ask him about dinner, but the door was kinda cracked, so I thought it'd be okay for me to come in," you explain, giving him the full run down.

By the time you're recounted the events, he's fully calmed down, knowing you need some reassurance right now.

"Babe, it was an honest mistake. I'm sure Carmy isn't going to hold it against you," he soothes. His deep voice washes over you, slowing down the rapid beating of your heart.

"I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. He's our guest. I totally violated his privacy."

"I know, love, I know. If it makes you feel better, we can all sit down tonight and talk about it, hmm?" Luca suggests, knowing that you'll all feel better if you can address the elephant in the room.

You're nodding your head before you remember that he can't hear you.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you agree, happy to have reached a solution. You feel relaxed now, grateful to have a boyfriend who understands you so well.

"Good, how are you feeling now?"

"Hmm, I'm better now," you answer honestly, relaxing further into the duvet.

"I'm glad. You sound better," he replies. He feels your own relief in his chest, glad to have been able to talk you off the edge. You two exchange a little bit of small talk, before you wrap up the call.

"I love you. I'll let you get back to work now."

"I love you too, babe. See you in a couple hours," he hums, blowing a kiss into the speaker. Your heart skips at the gesture, blowing a kiss back to him, before you end the call.

You're staring up at the ceiling, with a dopey smile on your face. Luca always knows the perfect thing to say, and you can't wait to see him when he gets home. A quick thought cuts into your head, disturbing your short-lived peace.

Why do I feel excited about facing Carmy again?

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

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@nolita-fairytale @wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @douceurrrr @mercang @eddiemunsonreader @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic @notmocca @live-love-be-unique

#chef luca #pastry chef luca #luca x reader #luca the bear #the bear fx #the bear fanfic #the bear fanfiction #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear smut #carmy smut #will poulter #will poulter fanfic #will poulter fanfiction #will poulter x reader #will poulter imagine #jeremy allen white #𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics

[jar-of-something-else]

LET THESE FREAKS FUCK NASTY!!

i'm sick and flipping tired of nobody letting heavy, pyro, or scout be insane and it's my american right to make it happen (this is for the anon that wanted mean pyro and for another anon that wanted heavy) (scout is for me)

under the cut obvs!!

WARNINGS: AFAB reader, crazy nsfw, CRINGE ASS DIALOGUE BITS!!!!! i wanted to try something new tell me if it's too gross and i'll stop and delete my whole account, mercs being MEAN!!!! also there's some russian (google translate russian) promise i'll provide translations <3

under 16 DNI !!!!!!!! please and thanks :)

Pyro:

-pyro has a neat little storage ottoman at the foot of his bed and guess what!! it's filled with sex toys!!!! who could have guessed!!!!!

-he's got a very wide variety of items 'cause he likes to keep it crazy; these items are included but not limited to: icy-hot (for temp play), handcuffs of many varieties, non-abrasive rope (for comfort), insane amounts of phallic rubber items (and glass he doesn't care) and just so so many more

-obvi the rope is used to tie you up but it's less shibari and more just restricting your movements by tying you to the bed/tying your arms and legs together

-obviously not the biggest talker (at least not anything you can understand), so whenever he wants to humiliate or degrade you, he'll grab your jaw and make you look into the goggles on his mask (it's a little scary) while he does whatever the hell to you

-not above teasing you in public and on the battlefield, he gets a laugh out of it

-touching a little more on the waxplay thing, pyro has a variety of candlesticks as well as regular candles in the jar containers. usually, he lets the ones in the jar burn for a bit until there's a pool of wax that he uses to cover larger areas on you, and the candlesticks are burnt while he drips the wax across your body

-into the idea of exhibitionism, hence the willingness to get you going in public areas, but he wouldn't actually want another person there during actual sex

-voyeurism on the other hand he is 100% down for

-wouldn't want to permanently damage you or anything, but pyro does like to use matches or a lighter to burn you just a teeny tiny little bit

Heavy:

-oh lord

-in my personal opinion, i think heavy is around 7 feet tall and 360-400 pounds so he's a BIG FUCKING GUY and obviously that's gonna translate to his dick

-more girth compared to length but sweet baby jesus it doesn't really matter at this point dude is SCARY big

-if you don't stop him (or if your begging doesn't get to him), he could prep you for hours on end. he wants to make sure he doesn't hurt you but another part of him very much enjoys overstimulating and making you beg for him to do something else

"Ты думаешь, что готов, маленький зайчик? Я не согласен. Мой член слишком велик для тебя." (you think you are ready little bunny? i disagree. my cock is just too big for you.)

-when heavy does finally decide to fuck you for real he goes wayyy too slow; he tells you it's for you to adjust but he just keeps dragging it out to tease you even more

-due to the whole "lets drag this thing out as long as possible" experience, it could lead to a lot of overstimulation. naturally, heavy's response to this is to just edge you until you're so desperate that you can't see straight

-like i mentioned in my first nsfw post, heavy has a BIG ASS breeding kink. he won't tell you (unless you know russian) but he does refer to himself as daddy when/if you let him cum inside you; he just thinks it's embarrassing after the fact and he doesn't wanna tell you

"Ты был так хорош для папы, ты заслуживаешь награды." (you've been so good for daddy, you deserve a reward)

Scout:

-my favorite part of the whole post !!!

-very very fast paced (obviously) and does enjoy slightly disorienting you with the speed he does things. whether he's fingering you, eating you out, or actually fucking you he makes sure to speed up as a little surprise

-sometimes he'll go hard enough to make his (or your) bed frame rock against the wall and he will rub it in the other mercs faces if someone knocks on the door to get you guys to shut up

"Oh wassat? You jealous I'm gettin' laid and you're not? Take that shiny bald head of yours and shove it up your ass, pal, I'm a little busy in here!" (could be talking to heavy or engineer you choose)

-i mentioned scout calling himself daddy in my last post (which IS canon i double checked) and it just got me thinkin so hard....he doesn't let you call him by his real name while he's fucking you, otherwise he'll stop what he's doing completely until you say it

"I don't know much about dis Jeremy guy you keep talkin' about, but it's startin' ta piss me off how often you're sayin' his name. Why don't you tell me who's really fuckin' ya this well, huh doll? Go ahead n' say it fa daddy." (i tried to write out his accent i love it so much but i'm so sorry to boston)

-whenever spy is out on a mission and you and scout are back at base he will sneak into spy's smoking room with you and fuck there. scout doesn't appreciate the subtle flirts he sees spy send your way, so he likes to give him a little reminder of who you chose to be with (even if it's in the form of cum stains on spy's velvet couch)

#i'm releasing propaganda #i love you heavy i love you pyro i love you scout #heavy x reader #pyro x reader #scout x reader #heavy tf2 #pyro tf2 #scout tf2 #tf2 smut #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #heavy tf2 x reader #pyro tf2 x reader #scout tf2 x reader #team fortress 2

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.2k

chapter summary: Summer break is finally here, meaning it's time to pick the annual vacation spot for the Miller's, only this time you also have a say in where to go. Later that night Joel makes you a promise.

warnings: none, just some fluff and family dynamics, mention of parent abandonment (sarah's mom leaving), mention of an unplanned pregnancy (again, sarah's mom)

a/n: yes there is a modern family reference in this. a heavy one at that because that show has been engraved in my brain from rewatching it over and over this year

special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on and to all the lovely readers who continue on joining in for the ride. ily all xx

Chapter Twelve || Chapter Fourteen

“I don’t understand. Sarah never in her life hurt anythin’. She hates it when I watch action movies and always calls me a caveman for it. How the hell is she gettin’ into a fight with some girl?”

He’s spiraling. That’s the easiest way to put it. His body is humming with worry, the light in the school hall burning his eyes. Sarah, his perfect little girl getting into trouble— 

Surely it was self-defense. 

He paces back and forth, then angrily looks at the door. Why is this taking so long? Why isn’t he already in there, learning what the hell happened? 

“Take a breath, Joel.” 

His head snaps towards the source of the voice, his heart easing a bit but not entirely calmed down yet. You offer him a kind smile, patting the seat next to you for him to join you. Joel shakes his head almost violently. “I can’t,” he sighs. “I need to know what the hell happened. I need to know if she’s alright.” 

“She’s in class, she’s alright,” you swiftly get up from your sweet and cradle his cheeks. He wants to look away. He’s still not used to being this vulnerable, this open. “I need you to calm down before we go in, okay? Don’t go on wreaking havoc without us learning what happened.”

Joel grimaces, his brows furrowing, he holds your wrists and tugs your hands down. He sees a moment of hurt reflected in your eyes but is quick to appease those worries by pressing his lips against your cheek. He’s glad you’re here. Truly. But he’s also worried about Sarah. She might be in class, however, that doesn’t mean that she was hurt in some other way. He lets out another breath and looks at the door. If looks could kill the wooden furniture would be dead by now.

He’s in the middle of leaning in for a proper kiss when the door finally opens. Both of them jolt, turning towards the interruption. Joel recognizes the woman on the other side. She has straight black hair that’s in a neat ponytail and thick glasses perched above her nose. Joel remembers her vaguely from Sarah talking about school... Ms. Pritchett, if he's not mistaken. He doesn't remember her first name. She’s young, maybe closer to your age rather than his. He gives the teacher a pointed look, to which she answers with a kind smile. 

“Mr Miller, welcome,” her gaze shifts to you “And…” 

You quickly offer her your name, flustered, as much as Joel can tell. He's a bit ashamed to admit it but at that point, he doesn't really care to figure out why you're suddenly tripping over your words. Joel turns to the teacher, his shoulders squared and tense. “You called about Sarah gettin' in a fight?” 

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.” 

He feels the brush of your fingers against the small of his back, a soothing touch and a quick one at that. He wishes your touch would linger, that your body would drape over his like a soothing velvety blanket. Sadly, he can't have that. At least, not now. You sit across from him and Ms Pritchett takes her seat behind the large wooden desk. Joel appreciates the craftsmanship of it. The way the wood feels smooth and new under his touch, polished to perfection, reminding him of something Tommy would make in his spare time. His eyes then linger on the nameplate right in front of him, Lily Pritchett. Now he knows the name of Sarah's teacher. 

Miss Pritchett laces her fingers on top of the desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Joel’s. He suddenly feels very exposed. Like this woman can see every mistake he’s made since the day he was born. Her smile isn’t soothing. Nor is the slight tilt of her head to make her seem whatever she’s about to say isn’t a big deal. But it is. He knows it is. He’s a single dad, no mom in the picture to help him out, and day by day those shortcomings are becoming more prominent in their lives. 

“Has Sarah told you about why she’s been having trouble at school?” 

The question is like a knife to the gut. It’s being twisted and pressed in deeper. He can feel your gaze on him but he refuses to look back. His heart skips a beat, then another. Why the fuck is he having trouble breathing?

“Her grades are high,” he manages to choke out between gritted teeth. “I ain’t aware of any trouble she’s been havin’.”

“I’m not talking about grades Mr. Miller. In that aspect, she’s excelling. But she seems to be having trouble fitting in—” 

“She has friends.” 

Miss Pritchett smiles again, albeit it looks more forced this time. As if Joel is working her last nerve, “She does. But those girls are in a grade higher.” she sighs and twirls her thumbs over one another. “I had a similar problem when I was her age. The thing is yesterday the girls were getting ready for gym class and started teasing each other by snapping each other’s bra straps.”  Joel’s mouth goes dry. He’s definitely out of his element. He holds his breath and waits for the teacher to continue, he feels your hand on the slope of his knee. “But Sarah didn’t have one and the other girls started teasing her.” 

“Why the hell are you talkin’ to us then?” Joel glowers and Miss Pritchett's mouth snaps shut. “Seems to me that my girl is the victim. Where are the parents of the others?” 

“Mr. Miller. . .” 

“No. I ain’t lettin’ her take the blame that was clearly some other kid’s fault!” his voice raises, his blood pumping faster, warmer. “You here blamin’ Sarah when she was clearly gettin’ bullied under your watch—” 

“Sarah tackled one of the girls.” 

Now it’s Joel’s turn to snap his mouth shut. Miss Pritchett's gaze turns sympathetic and you stiffen next to him, your fingers tightening around his knee. He shuffles in his seat and raises a brow, “Pardon?” 

“Some words were exchanged about Sarah’s mother abandoning her and Sarah tackled the other student to the ground. Things didn’t escalate—When Miss Crest came in Sarah was just holding her down.” 

“What did they say?” he growls, anger simmering right under the skin. 

He hates feeling like this. So out of control. Hates that her daughter is being targeted for something that was out of his and her’s control. 

“Her mother left us when she was young. A goddamn baby. Are you meanin’ to tell me that these kids are so undisciplined that they’ve been bullyin’ my girl for somethin’ that ain’t her fault?” 

“The girl who said it, Kimberly,” Miss Pritchett sighs softly when Joel fixes her another glare. A warning that she’s seen too many times from overprotective parents. “She apologized later on and the two have been talking a bit in class.” 

“I don’t care if she apologized—”

“Joel. . .” He finally turns to look at you. You say his name not as a warning, but more as an anchor grounding him to the moment. He’s breathing heavily. His body wrung out and ready to collapse. He takes a deep breath. In and out. He allows you to say what you want to say, what he’s too stuck in his own head to ask. Your gaze shifts from him to Miss Pritchett. “What should we do?” 

“Try to talk to her. If her mother left when she was young, like you said,” she gestures towards Joel. “She might’ve not fully registered what happened. Or what it means to not have a mother and only now she might be realizing it. As for the other situation, it might be good to get her a training bra for now.” 

A training bra, what does that even mean? It’s like he’s drowning, everyone saying things he just can’t understand. 

“The girls reconciled but I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you, Mr. Miller, before summer break starts.” 

God, they still have to pick out the annual vacation spot, “I appreciate it,” he mutters, not really looking at anyone in particular. He gets up from his seat and so do you and Miss Pritchett. She extends a hand and he takes it. 

“Feel free to call if you have any other questions,” she says. “Sarah is a good girl and has a bright future. This is just a little bump in the road.” 

And for the first time since he entered the office, Joel smiles. She does have a bright future. She’s the most amazing girl she knows. 

“Thank you.” 

The sky is crystal clear not a cloud in the sky. Joel hates it. And not just because he’s in a sour mood but because there’s nothing he can stare at in the sky. Nothing to distract him. They’re waiting for the final bell to ring so they can get Sarah and go home together. Tommy is supposed to pick them up. 

“You have to calm down,” you say, walking up to him enough to leave a friendly distance in between. Joel is tired of keeping you a secret. He wants to feel the softness of your body against his own, want to feel your breath on his skin as you speak. “I can go with her and get her a training bra. But you need to be the one to talk to her.” 

He cocks an eyebrow, “You think I don’t know that?” 

“I. . .I know you do. But let’s be honest you’re not exactly the most talkative. We’ve been together for a while and been living side by side for even longer—I still have no clue about Sarah’s mother or what her name is.” 

“Her name is Jessica,” he deadpans. Then with a sigh, he drags his palm down his face. “It’s hard for me. I don’t really have answers, sweetheart. She just up and left one day. She must’ve planned it because it was right after when we switched to formula.” 

“Did Sarah ever ask about her before?” 

“Once. When she was little.” 

“And?” 

His cheeks burn with frustration and he stammers of his words, “I don’t know. I don’t remember, she was really young so I think I made up somethin’ about her having a job far away or somethin’.” 

Joel groans and looks up to the sky. He watches the blank blue sky. How fucking boring. 

Your touch on his cheek brings him back down, your smile a balm to his soul, “Just talk to her. Ask her if she has any questions and be honest. She’s a smart girl. I’m certain she’ll understand that you’ve been hurting too.” 

Joel leans into the curve of your palm. A grateful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re too good for him. That much he knows. You’re everything. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” his heart melts between the bones of his ribcage. “I lo—” 

The sudden sound of the bell makes you both jerk away from one another. Joel’s eyes land on your face, you look horrified and panting with parted lips. He can’t help the burst of laughter that drops from his mouth as he places a hand on the top of your head. 

“So jumpy,” he mutters, and as he does his eyes catch sight of a bubbly girl with beautiful brown curls. “And there’s Sarah.” 

He might be imagining it but Joel swears you frown when he removes his hand from your head. Before Sarah comes over, he gives you a quick pinch on your waist and your smile is back. 

“Hey there baby girl,” he says. “How was school?” 

Sarah’s eyes flit between you and himself, “It was fine. . . Am I in trouble?” 

“Not at all.” Sarah looks skeptical but accepts his father’s words for now. Just as she opens her mouth, a loud familiar honk interrupts. The three of them turn towards the song along with a couple of children and families. 

“Whoops.” Joel can vaguely hear Tommy say as he jumps out of the truck. He makes his way towards them with quick steps, only slowing when his gaze lands on you. Joel hates the way his chest puffs up like a rooster at that. He doesn’t like the sudden kicked-puppy look Tommy is giving you. As if you’ve betrayed him in any way. . . He runs a hurried hand over his jaw. If anything all of this is Joel’s fault and not yours. He refuses to let anyone think otherwise. 

“I thought the teacher called you?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his head to Joel. His gaze swiftly moves back to you. “What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?” 

The endearment rolls off his tongue a bit too rough, which rubs Joel the wrong way. Joel watches you shift from one foot to the other, looking like a deer in headlights. “I asked her to come,” he steps up. “I was worried.” 

Tommy’s eyes soften and Joel’s heart threatens to shatter. He knows his brother cares about him. It hurts especially when he shows his emotions so easily, the complete opposite of Joel, he’s like an open book. 

The younger Miller holds Sarah’s shoulder and pulls her close, “You a’right? Anyone givin’ you trouble?” 

“No, Uncle Tommy. It was more like I was the one causing trouble.” 

All of them start towards the truck and as they do Joel doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes light up at what she said. 

“The perfect student finally getting her hands dirty? Now I’d pay good money to see that—” 

“Tommy.” 

“But I wouldn’t obviously,” Tommy clarifies, ignoring Joel’s warning. He leans into Sarah’s ear. “Did you get them good, baby?” 

Sarah smiles and Joel realizes he would let her get away with murder if he must. 

“I did.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

You and Sarah sit in the back while Joel sits in the passenger seat and Tommy gets behind the wheel. An uncomfortable silence surrounds them. The car starts moving and Joel turns a bit, looking between both you and Sarah. You’re looking out the window, your forehead smushed against the glass and Sarah is pretty much doing the same thing excluding the smushed forehead part. He sighs and turns back. Tommy is also tense which Joel can tell by the way he holds the wheel. He can’t really blame him. If you coming along with Joel wasn’t a tell of some sort he doesn’t know what is. 

“So,” Joel says loudly, cutting the silence in two. “We might as well plan the family trip while we’re drivin’ back home.” 

“Italy.” Sarah piques. 

“Every god damn year—no Sarah we’re not goin’ to Italy. But we will one day. Promise.” 

“Then I’m out of suggestions.” 

“What about you?” Joel asks, addressing you. For a second you look unsure, and he notices your eyes finding Tommy’s through the rear window mirror. “With how often we see each other you might as well come with us on vacation. It’s only for a week.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Your voice comes out tiny, insecure. He hates it. 

“‘Course I am.” 

Tommy jumps in before you can respond, "How about Lake Buchanan? You know, where we used to take Sarah when she was little. There's a resort there now, called Canyon of the Eagles or something."

Joel raises an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "Not a bad idea, Tommy. What do you think?" he asks, stealing a glance at you through the mirror.

A small, genuine smile forms on your face. "Sounds perfect. I'm in."

"Great," Joel grins. "Lake Buchanan it is."

Sarah, who had been lost in thought, perks up at the mention of the destination. "Lake Buchanan?"

"Yep, that's the place.” a fond smile playis on his lips. “Remember the stargazing?"

"Not really,” Sarah scrunches her face in concentration. “But it might be fun."

"It's gonna be a blast."

Joel shares a glance with you, both of you secretly reveling in the joy that Sarah's excitement brings. 

He has no idea how long he’s been staring, but he knows it’s been for a while now. 

Sarah walked up to her room pretty quickly when they arrived home, Joel wasn’t happy about the way she practically ran away from having a discussion, however he also figured he learned from the best—which was himself.

He takes a deep inhale, feels the way his chest expands, and exhales all of it from his lungs. He can do this. He can talk. 

Joel knocks three times with his heart in his throat. He never felt more relieved in his life when he heard the faint permission to enter the room. 

“Hey there, kiddo,” he says, leaving the door open. “I think we might have some things we need to discuss.” 

“Is this about Kimberly?” Sarah sighs and closes the book she was reading. She sits up on her bed, pulling her skinny knees up to her chest, she stares at her dad. “I’ve already delt with that. We’re fine. And I’ll never do it ever again,” she raises her hand as if she was pledging herself to the American flag. “Promise.” 

“You know that’s not why I’m here. There’s more we need to talk about and you know it.” 

“I know you don’t like talking about her, dad,” she sighs. “I’m sorry I tackled Kimberly. She just got on my nerves. I don’t even know where it came from.” 

Joel decides not to tell her that she did good tackling her classmate and that he’s proud. No one gets to bully his daughter, and he’s glad she knows how to defend herself. But it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t encourage it. 

“I don’t mind talkin’ about it,” he says instead. “What do you wanna know?” 

Sarah blinks, “Why’d she leave?” 

The second time today Joel is indescribably gutted. It was a question he didn’t know the answer quite himself. He hated calling Sarah an accident—but if he had to keep it blunt that was what it was. They were young when they got married, and eager to be with one another. Joel still remembers the night. The creaking of his old truck as rain fell upon them. At the time he would’ve called it romantic. Jessica had just left work, Joel was waiting for her right in the parking lot. He didn’t want her to get soaked under the rain. She was upset at something that happened at work and searched for relief in his mouth. He remembers the way her curls tickled his face, how eager she was to mark his neck—

That was the first time he came inside her. She said she would take a pill the next day. Three weeks later they were pregnant. Joel, despite their crippling finances, was excited. A baby—what else could he have wanted? Sure he had to make some adjustments to his career but that didn’t matter to him. 

Jessica left as soon as Sarah didn’t need to breastfeed anymore. She didn’t even leave a note. Her family was out of state and technology wasn’t as savvy as it was now. He couldn’t track her down. He’s also ashamed to admit he didn’t really try. He was hurt. Heartbroken. He thought they had something special, that having Sarah was both of their dreams. 

But apparently, it was only his. 

All he can feel is pain as he takes a seat next to Sarah on the bed. He wants to console her, tell her some solid truth that would ease her pain. But he can think of none. 

“I don’t know, baby,” he says barely above a whisper. “She didn’t leave a note when she left and I could never track her down.” Sarah’s eyes shine with coming tears. He can’t handle it anymore, he pulls her to his chest, hugs her tight. “I’m sorry baby girl. None of this is your fault. I—I wish I could be better. I know I have shortcomings but I’m gettin’ there promise. And. . . And if you want we can. . .” A knot forms in his throat. He can barely speak. “We can track her down. Ask her for the truth. Because I swear sweetheart I don’t know. Maybe I did something to run her off,” Sarah stiffens under his hold but he continues. A faint sniffling reaches his ears. “I was workin’ day and night at the time. Tryin’ to get the business goin’. It’s possible I wasn’t attentive as much as I wanted to be—I might’ve—” 

“Dad.” Sarah’s voice comes out harsh as she peels herself away from Joel’s embrace. He sees the fire in her eyes but also the pain, her sweet cheeks wet. Her brows are furrowed much like his and he can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing. “Her leaving isn’t your fault,” she then says, taking him by surprise. “I don’t know what you did—or if you did anything— but she lost all credibility when she just got up and left. Both. . . both of you were dealing with something huge. That burden can’t just be yours.” 

Joel blinks rapidly. His eyes sting when he does, he takes a sharp inhale and refuses to wipe his eyes. He’s not crying. He’s not emotional. It’s just the remains of the damn perfume Sarah likes to spray so much of. 

“And sure, we might have some problems, but that happens in every family. I love what we have. You’re the best dad a girl can ask for.” 

“You think so?” Joel chokes out. Sarah quickly nods, her own eyes suddenly wetter than before. With a smile, he shakes his head and pulls her in for another embrace. “For what it’s worth you’re the best daughter a dad could ask for,” he murmurs. “And I ain’t mad at you for tacklin’ that Kimberly girl. She deserved it.” 

Sarah’s laugh comes out muffled, “Dad. . . you’re not supposed to say that.” 

“I don’t care.” 

They hold on to each other with no urgency of breaking apart. He doesn’t care about the others. About the other families and their children. All he cares about is his daughter’s wellbeing. His own family that he built from jack squat. 

The rest of the world can eat shit for all he cares. As long as his little girl is safe, his brother doing alright and you in his life, he doesn’t care about the Kimberlys of the world. 

“So everything went alright with Sarah?” 

Settling beside Joel, a bowl of popcorn rests comfortably on your lap. The DVD menu is on, faint music of the movie he popped in echoing from the speakers. You were a bit hesitant to come over after today. And you were surprised to hear that Sarah went out to stay with her friends. You’d expected the two to have a long talk, maybe even share a pint of ice cream. But Sarah was Joel’s daughter after all, just like his father she probably cut it short, told her how she felt and they both moved on. 

You can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. However, as long as they’re both happy you don’t care all that much about how they get there. 

“It went fine,” Joel responds, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Just like you said, I was honest and she understood. I’m tryin’ to figure out where to go from here. I think there are a bunch of old pictures in the garage, including Jessica and Sarah as a baby. I don’t know if she would wanna see those though.”

“Yeah. . .” Your eyes shift to the screen, sadly, you don’t really have an answer to that. It’s not like Sarah thinks of her mother fondly and would want to see pictures. Your brain and heart are both worn out from everything that happened today. Both organs scrambled and twisted. You let out a soft sigh—a sigh so soft that it barely parts your lips, but he hears you. 

“I haven’t asked how you were feelin’ about all this,” he squeezes your shoulder. “How have ya been? This wasn’t all too much for you was it?” 

You smile. After all this time you’re still not used to being looked out after. 

“I’m okay. I just. . .” You think of Tommy and the look he gave you right before giving all his attention to Sarah. The hurt look in his eyes. The suspicion. “I need you to promise me something—I need you to swear on it.” 

His brows furrow, the deep crease between them making your heart clench. You chew on the inside of your cheek, your stomach suddenly full of knots. “I need you to swear you’ll tell Tommy soon. We—We can do it together if you want but I can’t handle seeing him almost every day and just lying—”

“You’re—We’re not lyin’—” 

“Swear.”

He turns to you now. The soft light of the TV illuminating his face, making it appear softer. More innocent and full of hurt. His eyes grow kind, understanding. Your eyes widen slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart plummets. You don’t think there’s a man out there capable of better understanding you than Joel Miller. He’s everything. And he makes you feel like everything. 

“On my life.”

we're entering the vacation arc babes 🚗🌲🏞️

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #stay in bed

[golbrocklovely]

dating colby headcannon

requested by anonymous: Could you possible write a dating Colby headcannon with the reader? Thank uuu

A/N: even tho i'm not taking requests, i figured i can do this real quick since it's a headcannon and i'm in the middle of finishing up the next chapter of the chosen daughter. so hopefully this holds yall over a bit longer while i finish that up :) and this is all gender neutral so anyone can read it ! lmk what you think and hope you enjoy.

let's start with how you two met: i think you being a friend of a friend would be how it all starts.

maybe this friend in common gets invited to a party that snc are at, and you tag along. you get introduced to colby, and yall hit it off.

colby is very much into vibes and how well he meshes with another person. so for him to be interested, he has to like being around you. that man does not waste his time around people he doesn't care about.

and i think with colby, things would start off PAINSTAKINGLY SLOW. if you're into a slow burn… that's what your life will be like lol

colby hasn't dated in a long time, it's been almost exclusively hook ups and situationships. so i think the beginning stages will be a bit rough (in more ways than one *wink wink nudge nudge*). i think it would take a long time before anything major happened, just because he's not used to being vulnerable with someone.

that being said, i can see him hooking up with you once or twice before anything serious even remotely starts, since that's his usual go-to method. that doesn't have to be all the way - it could be like making out in the club or in a house party bathroom. a little hidden, a bit secretive, but that makes it all the more fun. it's exciting because he makes you feel like you are the sun in his galaxy, even if it's just for a few minutes. that's how intense he can be.

and maybe you realize, "oh shit i got feelings for him…. will this ever turn into something more?" and that's when you start hanging out with him more, or at least making plans to.

and i think as time goes on, he grows attached to you (because he is a clingy person, respectfully). and he enjoys the parts of his day when he gets to see you. and that's when he starts to feel the sparks. but knowing him, he probably won't act on them for a while.

but slowly, you two get really close, and eventually try to start something. once he can feel his walls crumble, and yours are also down, that's when yall truly start to have a wonderful relationship.

so as for dating him, what do i think that would be like?

colby is very busy guy, no surprising to anyone. so it's hard for yall to hang out as often as you want to (which would be like everyday if you could, and same goes for him).

but colby finds ways of seeing you or talking to you at least once a day.

even if it's just to check in on you, or ask you about your day. colby also likes to tell you about the stuff he was up to, give you little heads up on new projects before anyone else. but only when he knows they're happening bc he doesn't like talking about things that might not happen. very earth sign of him lol

i don't see him sending 'good morning' messages, but i could see him sending 'goodnight' ones. definitely with a black heart emoji somewhere thrown in there.

oooh, pet names. i'm seeing him using baby, babe, darling, sweetheart, love, and possibly honey. especially when he's drunk, he's extra affectionate.

when he goes on investigations, he comes back and HAS to tell you everything. he also loves being around you after because you make him feel so comfortable and at home. and he needs that after being paranormally hungover.

if you go with him on trips… omg, he will be protective. for sure. checking in on how you're feeling every couple minutes.

and if you get really scared, he's ready to send you home. he doesn't want to see you hurt or terrified at all. so sometimes he isn't the most favorable towards you going with him (unless you insist).

yall's biggest past time together: cuddling.

that man needs cuddles, AT LEAST, once a day. otherwise, he will be whiny lol (he might not show it at first, but once he's comfortable, he's gonna be a baby about cuddles, guarantee).

he needs to be touching you at all times, whether out in public or not. he doesn't seem like a crazy PDA type, so nothing too ~sexual~, but he will be holding your hand every chance he gets.

unless, of course, he's feeling a bit frisky… then you run the chance of having to go home early or finding a private area to have your fun sksks

i see him being the type to wrap his arms around you from behind, pulling you tight against him. especially if you're waiting in like a long line or something. he just wants you in his arms whenever he can.

like i mentioned before, he is a very busy man. so i see him doing a lot of at home dates. making pizzas together (or just dinners in general), setting up little pillow forts for movie nights, cute vibes all around. omg and of course - LOTS of camping outside and staring at the stars and talking for hours. that's 1000% for sure.

and maybe if you're the type that likes hiking, maybe you guys would go hiking together.

but i do see him also taking you out to exclusive clubs, bars, and restaurants since he has the hookup and the following to get into places that are new.

emotionally, i think you two would be so deeply into each other. i think being understanding and just getting one another is something major he wants in a relationship. so i think always being open and honest would be the main center point of your relationship.

he wants no drama, and wants love to come easy. and most likely you feel the same way, which is why you guys mesh well together.

physically… i mean, cmon. look at the material lol

he's definitely wants to make sure your needs are met. he's a people pleaser after all. and if you're his person, he's making sure you're pleased.

he's a very giving lover, is all i'm gonna say ;)

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock headcannon #colby brock fic #colby brock fluff #what you seek

[qvrcll]

I ALWAYS GIGGLE WHENEVER I READ PREGGY READER X LEON AND YOUR WRITING IS JUST *CHEFS KISS* . AND I JUST HAVE ONE IN MINDFFDDD

So it goes by Leon(i suggest the re4r, cuz he such a pookie😍) and the reader being in a long term relationship, however due to some reasons they broke up. A month later, they were partnered for a mission, and while they were on a mission, they were like so awkward. Not until the reader was slowing down and can't run that much which made leon a bit worried. And the thing is the reader doesn't even know that she's pregnant (OMGGG, IMAGINE THAT THEY ALREADY RESCUED ASHLEY, AND ASHLEY WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD HER THAT SHE MIGHT BE PREGNANT.)

(i need to reconnect with nature im going feral with leon)

wish i was good, wish that i could

summary: following leon’s absence, you fall into a damning pattern. a cycle of something worth nothing. and as you’re paired with him on a mission, everything professional is boiled into that broken, hurting night.

warnings: nsfw mentioned, mentions of vomit / throwing up, pregnancy, major angst / comfort, re4r!leon in mind

warnings: i really don’t know if i hate this or like it, because i was sort of burnt out but this turned out a whole lot angstier than i expected. but i hope u enjoy my dear!! :-]

It’s December when Leon leaves you for good, shatters what imminent ‘thing’ you had calibrated within each other’s sheets, messy and marked with pleasure against the weekend, with your bodies having memorised each scar, each virgule and stir that made your belly itch with that wonted release.

And yet, he tears the warmth of that — those late night, unlabelled presses in the name of a swift, empty sort of business that flushed into a thick-skinned, scary love — in the middle of the night. His boots are lined with some dirt, his jacket sheening with a stain he can’t bother to name, but his fingers are numb and burry with an odd feeling, something that comes and drifts within the crack of his touch, when his hand grips your front door.

And he’s so close.

So close to finding reprieve of this suffocating feeling scratching the vermillion, milky flesh that nested deep against his bones when you called in the night, when you played with the mess of blonde hairs on his head, when your touches meant more than just baseless acquittal.

So close to abandoning this itching feeling that he’s not the right body for you to hold — that he’s rotten and crushed to the bone. Ugly and ill-fit for you to love, not explore with slender fingers. And when your fingers prod against the flesh of his heart, he flinches. Realises, curses and escapes like he’s known best.

And yet, he pauses, clenches his jaw as the rub of your feet squeak against the wood of your apartment floor.

“Leon…?” your voice calls, nimble and picked apart by sleep. Something heavy, he presumes, because he’s counted your breaths, donned them in corollaries in the dead of night and attempted to forget them, mark them as dead on his skin in the same night — but he curses, laughs dryly against his own skin as his heart spikes in the vibrance of your laugh, knowing he’s cursed himself.

“It’s nothing… go back to bed,” he says, says your name later. The chill of him is fresh and unfamiliar, contrasting the heavy night you’d shared with fluctuating breaths and the collision of skin, hot and messy and unapologetic. And yet, he’s collected himself up on staggering bones, marked like chalk and a brittle little thing, as he turns to face you with something grim in his voice, “I need some time alone.”

“What?” there’s ten steps separating the two of you, and you hark any attempt to near him. He feels like he stings. Burns, with that gush of coldness about him.

Still, you need to ask.

“What is it?”

And your breath is bordering on frantic, as you squint, try to find him in the darkness. Try to draw him against your fingers, feel him against your skin and against the cartilage in your chest, deep-seated like a muscle you cannot renounce. But he’s slipping, cleaving against the meat of your chest as something evil, something entirely him in nature.

And it scares you.

“Leon—“

“Just—go to sleep,” he repeats, his tone firm. Some part of him regrets ever coming. Ever answering the frequent ring of your calls in the dead of night. Regrets, in his own mind, the swelter of your fingers against every bare inch of him there is to name. And yet, his body warms at the thought. Tenses, shrivels to nothing at all as he turns to the door.

“Leon, whatever you’re doing, stop,” your voice cracks, somewhere in the middle, parting against the choke that fights up your throat, “Please—just come back to bed.”

The tremble of your voice.

The blink in your step.

The shake in your all.

He notes it all. Commits it to memory. Shames himself for the beginning of it. Prevails it till the end.

His eyes are back on you — two searing beads of cobalt fleshing against you like something sour. Something bloody and bruised. Something spelling ‘penance’ in all the wrong letters.

“Good-night,” he says. Your name, he calls out. And he’s out of the door before you can fight against him to stop.

It’s several weeks after that you muster the courage to ring his line again — some part of you melts against the wooden counter, grips the pliable telephone like a vice in your clammy hands, your heart in your throat as you wait for his voice to smudge against the crackling rings.

And yet, he doesn’t pick up.

You’re hard on yourself for some time later — hard on the fact that you’d assuaged such a war on yourself to not notice his fleeting habituation, his warmth against the click of your knuckles on darkening days slipping into a filthy line of disillusionment as you return to your home. Empty, crawling with the smell of his noisome departure.

And on the other side of something familiar, Leon suffers all the same. That crawling, desperate feeling you’d implemented in him has scratched a dam him, bled him raw and filthy on the tile of his bathroom floor as he gathers the mess of himself with shaky hands. He glances at himself in the mirror, tries to determine just where the man he knew himself to he had lammed.

His ears ring.

His fingers flinch with the bite of his basin.

His eyes sink with a brutal feeling.

He misses you.

Weeks pass and you’re starting to forget the feel of him — the smell of his hair leaves you, the stretch of his smile now strange and off-putting. You mark it down to repulsion, to seething hatred, but you determine the lie in it.

You miss Leon like you miss anything, with the sheer strength of your dying love.

And it’s strange, you think, as you find yourself hunched against the toilet, releasing this morning’s breakfast with little restraint. The choke of it in your throat disgusts you, as the thought of Leon’s touch lingering in this bathroom does too, in frequencies of its own.

And you haven’t gotten half the heart to press the issue.

It’s a month without any form of contact and you’ve lost the smell of him, the touch of him. The thought of him comes as a bore, you fool yourself. The severity of his vision deep like an ocean you’d nearly killed yourself with remembering — and yet, on strange nights, you think of him. Think of the spit of his bones and muscles, of his kindness. Of his habit to mull things over till they were rotten and ugly beyond any chance of reprieve.

It’s a month without any strength in his bones, with which Leon carves a hole into the bed with his weight — he feels aimless, carding through the days with ill health. The alcohol cuts just enough for him, and the food he eats is takeaway. Foreign places, none of those familiar cuisines you would order late into the night.

The thought of it makes him sick.

Makes him choke with guilt and the thought of ‘what if?’

He goes to sleep a ghost against the sheets.

It’s some months when you ditch the self-sorry act in which you brand yourself over the days with — Hunnigan’s line rings once, twice and she picks up with a familiarity in her voice.

Ain’t that easy, you think bitterly.

It’s regular business — she greets you, debriefs you, informs you of the nights callings and of the days prior. Your leave from the enforcement has cost you a flitting pile of work and yet, Hunnigan finds it in herself to press the issue of your health first. She doesn’t know what’s happened between you and Leon, but she knows you. And she knows you in a sense that made the hurt burn like fresh skin, like a wound too bloody to heal.

“And… how are you?” she asks. You answer, something mandated. Something unconsciously revised by your system and yet, she rejects the bait, “How are you, really?

And you cry into the line. Fuel the crackle with the guise of your tears as you dry-heave. The spill of him seeps through your bones, drags memories apart that have longed their stay, that have bided to burn you for good.

And she listens.

She soothes.

She curses him out in the name of everything good, and a dry chuckle leaves you as the poke of everything familiar marks the undercurrents of everything new.

Leon is informed of the mission like it’s something to commit to the bit by. The days training are gruelling and he’s in for a bitter joke when the world is placed on his shoulders — maybe it could’ve been something humorous, but when Hunnigan mentions the word ‘partner,’ he freezes over.

“Partner?” he whispers into the line, baffled. Mulling the idea within his thickset fingers.

“Yes, partner. They will accompany you on your mission to save ‘Baby Eagle’ when the time is right,” Hunnigan replies, leaves no room for reply, “This is final. I’m sorry, Leon.”

He supposes he should be upset, but he’s just perturbed. The idea of a partner comes foreign to him and yet, his brain forces the outline of you against the thought of it. It presses your flesh against his teeth and the smell of your skin when it came to him in bits in pieces.

He feels you like he has for the first time.

He remembers you like he still has you.

He bites his tongue, resumes his activities because the flesh of you is not to keep — it’s just for him to think of when the night darkens into a cold fog too delirious to not think of much at all.

The wait is gruelling.

You’re sweat-marked, ill and pale around the cheeks as you exit the bathroom again. You cannot possibly fathom the prospect of food poisoning on a third-week round, and yet, you feel yourself regurgitating much of it. There’s an inclusion of odd combinations you try; pickles and chocolate, orange juice and noodles. It makes you wonder, makes you think.

And yet it never presses for longer than a moment — nothing to catalyse into concern.

It’s 8’oclock, and the chill of the night is a reminder of your mortality — your arm is caught on the couch arm and your legs are perched against the opposite part of it. Your television blurs with unfamiliar faces, flitting names and tones, and you’re struck with something familiar, deep-set in your bones like fury.

And in a second, you’ve dragged the land-line in your lap, typing his number like the way you breathe.

Tomorrow could very well be your last.

Could be nothing.

It could all go to shit and he wouldn’t know.

He’s got to know.

Your finger dials. You press the cold device to your ear.

You panic. Bite before you breathe. Shut it off and head to bed.

He doesn’t have to know.

You’re being briefed by Hunnigan when you think you’ve been struck dumb by lightning — everything crumbles to less than a resolve when she informs you that you’d be partnered with a fellow agent on the mission.

“Hunnigan, please,” you plead, beg past your teeth as you press the ear piece in closer. Try to determine whether or not she would swing in your favour; maybe botch the appropriate documents and have you work this mission to find Ashley Graham on your own. Maybe then, you’d find some moment of reprieve. Some time to keep the pieces to yourself and not dish it out to strangers in the name of small talk.

But Hunnigan is stone solid in her resolve, as she tracks her glasses higher against her face.

“I can’t change this — sorry. And, good-luck” she says. And her voice is foreign as it’s lost in the whirr of the transporting vehicle that reminds you of where you stand.

You think you go insane with the sight of him.

It all rushes in like a surge in a barge — his smell is intoxicating, metallic in a tinge that’s so upsetting it makes the bone hurt, makes it throb in something you deny wholly. His face is stoic, carded with indifference and yet, it is the one familiar thing in the car, two visionary pools that drown out the prior restriction you had held — perhaps, replaced it for the incredible awkwardness as you try to press yourself into the car door. Maybe even try to plummet out of the window itself, safe yourself the awful taste of his absence so clearly in the molten air.

“Long time no see” you say, your lips carving into something deliciously awkward. Sombre. He glances at you, eyes pinning all feeling against the flagstones you thought you’d destroyed with your own flesh and yet they persist. Persist as the ground he seems to so senselessly drag himself across — like a wounded thing, a creature of pity.

“It’s nice to see you,” he says, because what else does he do? Blink? Breathe? Because that is all he’s been crushing into the empty silence. To try to fill it with something he’s done so effortlessly and yet with you here, it’s manual. Run on baseless intuition that he forgets to live if he doesn’t live in you.

And yet…

The drive there is splendidly awkward, the walk into the church even moreso. You’re briefed every now and then, of pertinent belts on the map where the two of you float like two ghosts against unearthed land. He tracks mud on the floor, you carry blood on your clothes.

You both play your parts well; play it like he wasn’t the one living person to know you like the Earth knew the ocean. Like the sky knew nightfall.

But of course, with Leon, everything is cluttered. Messed into upheaval. Broken into something unsettled, of the past — het up like something that needed destroying and still, the feeling of want lingered in both of you like something to be mended.

It’s a blur when you two take a break — you’ve tracked Ashley and your hips are sore with the exertion of her escapade. You balance yourself against the wall, count your breaths as you try not to disembowel this morning’s contents against it.

Leon notices— he always does — and he comes forward with caution beneath his finger-tips, as he rubs the ball of your shoulder like you’d pounce.

“Is… everything okay?” he asks.

And as you turn to face him, you cough into your hands, swivelling around as tears meet your eye. The feeling scratches against your throat, like those harking nights spent against the tiled bathroom floors. Like those nights felt without the burn of his touch, just the chill of it instead — just the feel of your own bones sick of holding your bones in the place of him.

And you throw up against wall.

He calls your name, in worry, that much you catch in your sickness. The swelter of his touch is against your back, as he rubs it in according rhythms — something so domestic it made the feeling crawl right back into the back of your throat, stabbing the flesh like something cruel made with the press of him.

But he doesn’t relent. He cares for you like he loves you. Like he’s meant to hold you — you both fool yourselves into thinking he doesn’t.

It’s not quick business after that, as Ashley sits you atop crates and offers you water. Leon watches you with familiar, afraid eyes, as his gaze catches like something sharp intrudes his lungs again — it’s only when Ashley presses the idea of something delirious that you two snap out of it.

“Are you pregnant?” she asks. Her voice, nimble, probing and yet, it brings the crash of the world on your shoulders.

You had never seen anyone after Leon.

Only ever let him memorise the grooves against your skin.

Only ever let him in where there had been none before.

And as you meet his eyes, he looks back like he fears you’d disappear if he didn’t.

When the mission is concluded, briefed only a million times, Leon catches you on your scarper back home. In your mind, you’ve executed the plan of a pregnancy test and a mindless solemnity in your sheets, like a broken record. Something hard to break out of — but he breaks the intent of it. He interrupts it and places in a new itinerary.

“Hey, can we talk?”

You stagger against your feet as you look at him with a wounded expression, as if the request itself had done more insult to injury than most things left intimated. Left rotten and swelling at your doorstep the night he left.

“I don’t know, can we?” you bite back. Raise your shoulders. Play the part of the heretic. Hear the voice mocking you.

Idiot. You need this. You need him.

“Please — I’ve been thinking of… you, of us. Of what Ashley said, back then,” his voice starts, breaks, reminds you, “and I regret it.”

“Regret what?”

Your question comes blunt — unintentional. But harboured with something necessary.

“Regret leaving.”

Your heart is in your throat. Your legs throb with an ache. Your body looms with the threat of a dry-heave, but you keep standing. Withstand the blow of his admission.

“Why? Why did you leave?”

Your reply leaves him aimless — bloody, battered and naked for you to see the flesh underneath. If you picked apart the useless, flimsy thing left for display, you’d assimilate his hurt. His fear in loving you, fully, with feeling and the press of destiny like he had dreamt of because if you lost you in the trail of it, he’d lose it all.

“I left… because—because I was scared. Scared of loving you. Scared of losing you.”

“Who said you’re losing me?”

“I don’t — I don’t know. It was stupid. I’m sorry. I’m—sorry.”

He stalks forward, his fears against his feet as he promises yet again. He tracks blood on his back. You track dirt against your feet. You play the part well, of the injured. Of the battered and beaten and of the tender.

You play the part well.

“I’m sorry.”

Of you.

“It’s okay, Leon.”

Of the body you’ve missed to be yours.

“It’s okay.”

And as he crowds your arms, fills it with feeling and the thought of him again, something bleeding in your arms like peace again, here, promising you company across the horizon, a feeling of surety comes.

It comes.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

#leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon drabble #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you

[maraudersmyloves]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

pairing: Mattheo riddle x Reader, Enzo x reader

Warnings: My bad English, unedited, Panic attack, unrequited feelings

synopsis: the reader is freaking out Enzo is helping

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Word count: 629

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Your eyes have started burning from trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes and you can hear your heart pumping in your ears. It doesn't matter that Mattheo was kissing another girl. You desperately try to slow your rapid breathing. It has to stop. You look around the empty hall. Someone could come anytime. This has to stop. But it isn't and you don't know why.

Dread washes over you like a wave, crushing you and making you scramble to sit down and lean your weight against the wall. The cold concrete is startling against your burning skin.

Your mouth feels tacky and dry, making you panic even more. Did someone poison you?? You only realize you've started crying when you scrub your face to come to your senses and feel the wetness on your cheeks. You take a rapid breath in.

Suddenly your chest starts stinging as if someone stabbed you. You clutch at it feeling your heart beat. You are overly aware of your rings on your sweaty fingers.

You quickly slide them off, but one is just not doing what it's supposed to fucking do. Why the fuck is it not coming off. You let out a silent scream. Shake your hand in a panic and try again.

When the ring finally pops off, it doesn't give you the hoped satisfaction. You clench and unclench your fingers while releasing a sob that hurts your chest. You lay your head on your knees, finally giving in to your crying. You've liked Mattheo for two years and while you knew he was fucking some girl every night you never had to see it since he never kisses them in public not wanting to make the girls think the sex means more than it does. Maybe that girl is different. Yay.

Suddenly you hear someone repeatedly call your name. You look up to see Enzo.

You don't want him to see you like this, your face sticky with tears and snot, so you put your Head back down. "Hey, look at me." You let out another sob at the sweetness and pity lacing his voice. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you. Just breathe. Breathe with me."

You try to focus on your breathing. It's hard and you keep hiccuping and the urge to just start crying again isn't really helping. "Perfect, love. You're doing great. In and out. In and out. I've got you." You listen to his breathing. Your heart is slowing down and your skin is cooling down. You raise your head again to look at Enzo. Perfect Enzo. Still slowly breathing and helping you calm down completely.

After another minute of silent breathing you speak up, "Do you have a tissue?" He chuckles and pulls some tissues out of his Pocket. You blow your nose and relief fills you at how freely you can breathe.

"Thank you," you say smiling and you both know you're thanking him for more than the Tissue.

"Always happy to help."

He stares at you for a second before continuing "You wanna stay here or... go to your dorm?"

You chuckle a bit when you realize how you must look right now. Messy Hair, bloodshot Eyes, and red nose. "Oh god, I look awful don't I?" It's not really a question. He answers anyway. "You? Never. You always look gorgeous."

A laugh tumbles out of your throat and you push him slightly. "Oh, shut up."

He smiles and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder. After a minute of comfortable silence, you lay your head on his shoulder. He gives you a little kiss on the crown of your head, making you burn hot again. "I was bein serious, by the way. You are gorgeous"

#fluff #headcanon #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #angst #x reader #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo x reader #enzo berkshire #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #harry potter #slytherin boys react