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itsonlydana · 2 days

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Find a cure for my heart | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.

warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end

words: 5,6k

an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!

+ masterlist + rules

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.

In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.

They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?

Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.

You had your own story. A different one.

But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.

You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.

You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.

Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.

Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"

Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.

It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.

A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.

Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.

The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.

And so he did.

Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.

Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.

And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.

There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.

Especially you.

There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.

No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.

The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.

That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.

Or the Elvenking.

Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.

"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.

In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.

"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.

You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.

The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.

The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.

That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.

Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?

Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.

Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.

'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'

Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.

Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.

You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.

It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.

You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.

When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.

You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.

What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.

There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.

You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.

It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.

You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.

Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.

The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.

"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.

His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"

"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."

Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.

You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.

Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.

Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.

You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.

The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.

Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.

You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.

Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.

⸺

Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.

"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"

You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.

She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.

"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.

Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.

Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.

"Tilda–"

You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.

⸺

You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.

Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.

This had to be a dream.

Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.

Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.

A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.

"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.

For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.

The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"

Ah, straight to the point.

"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.

Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.

This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.

You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.

One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.

"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."

He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.

Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.

That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.

It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.

Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."

The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.

You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."

Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.

"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"

A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.

"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."

"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."

"But –"

"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.

You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.

"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.

He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.

The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.

Now, there remained little of that stillness.

"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"

"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"

The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.

Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.

You searched for a response inside you but found none.

All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.

Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.

His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.

Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.

The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.

You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was indeed, and far beyond that."

The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"

Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.

He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."

How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?

They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.

While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.

He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.

You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.

You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.

You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.

"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"

He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.

Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.

"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."

"He noticed it all?"

"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."

You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."

"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."

"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"

Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."

You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"

Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."

You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.

"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.

"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."

In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.

Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.

Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.

He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.

As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.

"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.

While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.

You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.

Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.

"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."

There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.

This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.

Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.

Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.

They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.

You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.

Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.

With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #king of mirkwood #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

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leascno · 10 months

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a painting experiment for my exr playlist cover

here is also a process video!

#les miserables #les mis fanart #enjolras #grantaire #exr #one day i will move on from drawing them looking at each other but that day is not today sorry babes #re: actual playlist itself it used to be like 100x more angsty #but i sorted out some songs into separate enj or R playlists #added some songs that i’ve been listening to lately that has tickled the exr brainwormies

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aledmorningstar · 1 month

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╰┈➤Misunderstood

Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 3.0k

Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english

The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.

Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.

“What are you doing?”

Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?

"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"

Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.

"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"

The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.

“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”

Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.

"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"

Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.

“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”

The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.

"You look like a criminal"

“Who said I'm not?”

Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.

"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."

Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.

"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"

Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.

"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"

"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.

"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"

“See you”

Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.

“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"

An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.

"No not really"

Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."

Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.

"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"

At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.

“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”

“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”

An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.

“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”

Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.

Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.

“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”

“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”

The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.

“Do you think someone is bullying him?”

Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.

“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”

They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.

“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”

“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”

“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”

Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.

"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"

Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.

"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."

Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.

"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”

"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."

The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.

“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”

“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”

It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.

“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”

“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”

“Impossible, my brother has no friends”

Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.

"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.

“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.

Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.

"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"

"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"

"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"

The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.

Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.

The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.

"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"

Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.

"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."

Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.

The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.

"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"

The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.

"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"

"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"

Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.

"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."

Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.

“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”

“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”

While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”

The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"

Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.

"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"

Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.

"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"

You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.

"Honey, calm down. They are—"

"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"

You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.

On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.

"She... just called him love"

“Yes, she really did”

"I can't believe it"

Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.

Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.

"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"

Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.

"It's okay, princess"

"No, it's not okay-"

You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.

"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."

"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"

The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.

"Last words?"

Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.

"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"

"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"

"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"

Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.

"Why do you say that?"

None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.

"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"

"Oh, that..."

Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.

"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"

"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."

The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.

"Wait, what about the flowers?"

Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.

"What flowers?"

"Oh right, I brought you something"

Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.

Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.

"It's no bother when I can make you happy"

“I'm going to kick your ass”

Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.

"But the meaning of flowers..."

"Excuse me?"

You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.

“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”

"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"

"We should have assumed that"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

#aledthinks #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #drabble #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #ryoumen sukuna

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anxiousbabybird · 3 months

Text

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

#love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #love and Deepspace hcs #rafayel HCs #Zavier HCs #Zayne HCs #mdni

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atrwriting · 5 months

Text

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

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joelscurls · 6 months

Text

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers.

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?”

You sniff again. Nod.

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself.

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.”

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath.

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face.

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?”

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him. Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch.

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim.

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull.

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours.

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you.

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox.

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all.

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense.

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him.

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.”

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.”

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward.

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet.

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him.

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now.

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated.

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush.

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours.

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears.

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?”

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes.

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.”

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.”

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy.

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?”

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from.

Sheila is home.

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing.

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea.

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?”

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.”

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip.

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used.

“You sure?”

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise.

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you.

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length.

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx.

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop.

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him.

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat.

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep.

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile.

Do you hear that? Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you.

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp.

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast.

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar! We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted.

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt.

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle.

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth.

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air.

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?”

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

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

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hannieehaee · 29 days

Note

Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?

content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.

wc: 1156

a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.

well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.

he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.

now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.

you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.

despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).

today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.

he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.

jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.

as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.

"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.

"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"

"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."

"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.

by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.

"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.

"hannie, don't lie to me."

"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"

"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.

the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.

"jeonghan, apologize to him."

"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.

"you heard me."

"but–"

"hannie!"

"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."

"than–"

"thank you", you interrupted the man.

jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.

after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.

"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.

"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.

"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.

despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.

"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.

you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.

"are you not?", you inquired.

"i am, but they dont need to know that!"

"you're so annoying ..."

"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"

"im not at liberty of releasing that information."

he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff

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caramelcal · 9 months

Note

Hi, I love your story!! I wanted to know if you can do a when theo is jealous and leave hickey to fem reader. If your not comfortable that’s fine thank you 🤭.

LOVEBITES AND POTIONS

word count: 1.4k

a/n: hiya lovely! thank you for sending a request<3

warnings: fem!reader, no house specified. jealous!theo. boyfriend!theo, playful allegations of cheating/going on dates with others. hickeys.

"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out from behind you, halting you in your movements.

It was a Friday, and you had just left your last class of the day, ready to relax over the weekend with your boyfriend, Theo. That's where you were heading right now; to his dorm.

Well, until someone called out from you.

"I'm glad I caught up with you," The voice said as you turned around, eyes catching onto Zacharias, a Hufflepuff boy in your year, and your potions partner.

"Hi, Zacharias," You gave the boy a pleasant smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You held your books in your hands in front of your chest, looking at the boy who seemed a little out of breath.

"Hi, um-" He started, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes cast away from you for a second, "I wanted to talk to you about our potions project."

You looked at him with a small smile, urging him to go on as he took a deep breath. Tons of students bustled around the two of you, loud, excited to get off to their dorms or hang out with their friends, and although you wanted nothing more than to run to Theo's dorm, you were patient with the boy in front of you.

He seemed nervous.

"Well, I was thinking we could get a headstart on our project, maybe tomorrow in the library?" He proposed, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but your face, "I mean, I really need a good grade on this project, and I know that you like to..."

Zacharias continued, but you zoned out a little as your eyes caught on to a particular group of Slytherin boys. They all joked about, pushing each other, and just acting generally boisterous. Not a single one of them wore their robes, all claiming to be far too cool for them, their ties loosened and white sleeves rolled up.

Your eyes caught onto the familiar tall figure of your boyfriend as he laughed, his blue eyes catching onto yours as you smiled, getting a smile in return. His friends all started to notice you too, riling Theodore up as boys do when they saw the look in his eyes.

"Y/n?" A hand gently brushed against your shoulder, drawing your attention back towards Zacharias, his eyebrows slightly drawn, and a slight redness in his cheeks.

"That sounds like a good idea, Zacharias," His face brightened a little, "but I can't do tomorrow, I have plans with my boyfriend, sorry."

"Oh."

"We can start on Sunday though? How does that sound?"

A small smile makes its way back onto Zacharias' lips as he nods, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Before you can respond, however, to work out times or anything, you hear a call from behind you, "Y/n! C'mon! We don't have all day!"

Your head whips around, hearing Draco shout after you to get you to hurry up, only to realise all of the Slytherin boys are staring at you, waiting for you to come with them. With a smile, you turn back around and say your goodbyes to Zacharias, before practically skipping over to the boys.

Your eyes don't move from the tall blue-eyed boy, your arms thrown over his shoulders as you reach up and peck him on the cheek. His eyes don't quite meet yours, focusing on something behind you as his hands snake possessively around your waist, a kiss being placed on your forehead.

Then, you're whisked away to the Slytherin common room, and soon enough, Theodore's dorm. The door shuts behind your boyfriend as you place your books down on his bedside table, and he wastes little time pulling your robe away from your neck and down your shoulders, slipping it off your body.

"I missed you," You spoke quietly as you turned around in your boyfriend's hold, your hands going over his shoulders and curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.

Your head is on his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and cigarettes, eyes closing at the comfort it brings you.

Theo hummed in response, pulling back a little as he picked you up with ease, placing you down on his bed as he sat beside you, facing you.

His lips soon find yours, his hand sitting around the back of your neck, keeping your lips firmly on his as his thumb caresses your hair away from the side of your neck. His free hand pulls at your tie, then unbuttons the top two buttons of your shirt, moving the fabric to free the side of your neck.

Then, his lips latch onto your neck, near your jaw, and the second you feel him suck and his teeth lightly graze over the skin, you know exactly what he's trying to do.

"Theo, lower. Those marks are going to be visible above my uniform."

Yet, he doesn't stop. In fact, he seems even more eager to mark up the side of your neck when he hears those words tumble from your lips.

"Theo."

He pulled away a little, but you could still feel his soft breaths against the bare skin of your neck. You looked down at him with a quizzical look.

"Why are you doing it so high?"

He avoided the question, his hands pushing your hair back once more as his eyes cast back down to the skin of your neck, "You excited about your date with your little boyfriend?"

"I didn't realise we'd planned a date this weekend."

"I'm talking about your other boyfriend," He quipped back sarcastically, before his lips made contact with another spot on your neck, littering what you can guarantee are going to be countless dark bruises along your neck.

Your eyebrows furrow at this remark as you try to piece together what Theodore could possibly be talking about. What other plans did you even have?

"Are you talking about Zacharias? He's just helping me with our potions project," You informed your boyfriend, your hand coming up to grab at the strands of his soft hair once more.

"Tell him to leave it, I'm better at potions anyway. I'll help you," Theodore bargained, without his mouth moving away from your neck.

He wasn't wrong. Theodore was brilliant at potions, but regardless of that, it was your and Zacharias' project, not you and Theodore's.

"Wait," A subtle smirk came to your lips as you began to piece together what was happening, your hand pushing Theo away from your neck, "Are you jealous, Theo?"

You held him in such a way that he was unable to attach his lips to your neck to continue his attack, your head tilting a little as you waited for a response.

Theodore rolled his eyes in response, mumbling, "No."

"Are you sure?" You pouted a little, raising an eyebrow at the way his eyes were cast to the side, not looking you in the eyes. His hair was a little messed up, and a small pout had made its way to his lips, too. He crossed his arms over his chest, almost comically, as if he was a child in a huff.

"That puff has nothing on me," He mumbled cockily, making you laugh softly as you moved your hands from holding him back. Not skipping a beat, Theo latched his lips back onto your skin, on the opposite side now.

"Stop," You laughed a little, "Snape's going to have a heart attack if he sees these."

You had absolutely no doubt that these were going to be a pain in the ass to hide. Even with your hair down, it was going to be a real struggle. With how many Theodore had left too, you knew the chances of you being able to cover them with makeup was going to be difficult, too.

"Hope the puff does, too," Theodore mumbled almost childishly.

"Don't be jealous, Theo," You spoke softly, your hand coming up to play with his hair once more, your other hand rubbing his back, "You know I'm yours."

"You're right," Theodore responded, pulling away from the last hickey he made, then pressing a soft kiss against your neck, now littered with marks, then your jaw, then your lips. Finally pulling back, his blue eyes meet yours, a smile coming to his face as he surveys his work, then your face, "All mine."

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader x draco malfoy #jealous!theodore nott x reader #jealous!theodore nott #jealous!theo nott #jealous!theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore

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zylev-blog · 4 months

Text

Danny and Sam were enjoying a date out in Metropolis when it happened. Superman had been mind controlled again, and was taking hostages. Neither Danny or Sam were worried, and were amongst the only people not running for their lives. They just sat outside the cafe, sipping their coffee and eating their food. As the ground began to rumble, they simply picked their coffee cups and held them in their hands to not spill the coffee within.

“So then Tucker says, ‘not my pda!’” Danny finishes, laughing along with Sam.

“I swear, he loves that thing more than life!” Sam laughs.

That’s when they heard it. The sunlight outside got a shade darker, and Sam and Danny turned to see the outline of Superman hovering in front of them. They both glanced at him, then at each other.

With a loud sigh, Danny out down his coffee. “Can you move a little to the left, Superman? You’re blocking the sunlight.”

Without warning, Superman reached out and grabbed Sam, who was closer to him. Sam grunted out in surprise as she was lifted into the air by her neck. Danny looked unconcerned.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, gesturing at Superman. “You’re going to ruin my necklace.”

“I don’t think he’s worried about your necklace, babe.” Danny leaned against the table, watching the encounter.

“Well, he should be!” Sam exclaimed. “I paid good money for it!”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. We can just buy you another one once he stops choking you.”

“It’s not really like he’s going to get anywhere.” Sam agreed.

Superman seemed to take offense to this. His grip on her neck tightened, and while Sam’s face did flush red, she wasn’t gasping for breath or having her neck snapped.

“You remember the other day when I said Black Canary could strangle me and I’d be happy about it?” Sam asked, her voice a little breathless.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, wondering where she as going with this.

“I like Superman choking me better. He would probably be better at it than a human.” Sam grinned at the Kryptonian.

“Shouldn’t he at least buy you dinner first?” He asked.

“You know, most boyfriends don’t talk so freely about their girlfriends being choked by other guys.” Sam pointed out.

“You’re right.” He agreed.

“But this is getting kinda weird. Superman, do you mind letting me go? This isn’t really working for me anymore.” Sam pointed to the ground.

A large crowd had started to gather around them. Some looked horrified, while others looked curious. Curious at Sam, who hadn’t died yet. Superman made no moves to remove his hand from her neck.

“Hey babe?” Sam asked.

“Yeah?” He took another sip of his coffee, completely calm.

“Can you record me beating up Superman so we can send it to your sister?”

“Why her?” He tilted his head.

“Little sister.” Sam clarified.

“Ohh. Yeah, sure, she’d love that.” He took a second and pulled his phone out—a latest WayneTech model. “Go for it.”

Sam wrapped her hand around Superman’s, and with an audible snap, broke his hand and pulled it off of her neck. Superman gasped in pain, but Sam wasn’t done yet. She proceeded to judo flip him and send him crashing to the Earth while she continued to hover in the air. She clapped her hands together and cracked her knuckles.

“This is going to be fun.” Sam grinned wickedly.

“You know, I could just touch his temple and cure him of the mind control.” He offered, but continued to record Sam.

“Don’t spoil my fun.” Sam flipped him off, then dove towards the ground. She kicked Superman in the nuts, then kneed him in the face hard enough to draw blood. She punched him a few more times until he fell unconscious.

Danny got up and stopped the recording. He walked over to his girlfriend and looked at the unconscious Superman. He bent over the man and pressed a finger to the man’s temple. Blue power briefly illuminated Superman’s skin, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re going to cause trouble for us.” He chastised her.

“But you love it.” Sam took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

She flew into the air first, but Danny took another second to dig into his wallet, leaving a $20 bill on the table they were sitting at. He then flew into the air after Sam, chasing her all the way to Amity Park.

—————

Six months later, and Danny and Sam were on another outing in Gotham when they were interrupted by Batman. They pulled a chair up for him, and eventually the man took it. They ordered him a coffee and a bagel.

“So, what brings you here?” Danny asked casually.

“How did you defeat Superman?” Batman asked, straight to the point.

“Huh?” Sam asked. “When did we do that?”

“Six months ago.” Batman responded.

“Ohh, wait— remember the day we went to Metropolis?” He hummed.

“Oh. I already forgot about that. Superman’s not pressing charges, is he?” Sam asked. “I do have a good lawyer, he’s just an asshole to deal with.”

“No, he is not pressing charges.” Batman grunted.

“Then what’s this about?” He asked, tilting his head.

Without answering, Batman opened a box on his lap. At once, the kryptonite took effect of both Sam and Danny, making their skin turn green and to writhe in pain. Just as Danny was about to take the box from Batman by force, the man had closed the lid and tucked it away.

“I had my suspicions.” Batman said, as if that explained everything. “So how did two more Kryptonians land on Earth when the planet was destroyed thirty years ago?”

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

Note

Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument

“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back.

That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next.

You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore.

“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out.

You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.”

Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave.

It’s past eight when you get home.

The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house.

Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches.

The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles.

When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light.

“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him.

Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”

“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks.

You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him.

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?”

But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything.

“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again.

“Can you forgive me too?”

“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears.

“Do you forgive me?”

Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”

A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you

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rs-hawk · 1 month

Note

do you have any tentacle stuff? im thinking maybe an ursula-style octopus merman bf

I don’t have anything tentacle like that but it does sound interesting so-

You always loved the beach so when you were able to book an Air BNB with a private beach, you were ecstatic. Finally you could relax on the sandy ground without anyone bothering you or worrying about having to move.

As you settled onto your towel with nothing on (because everyone hates tan lines, right?), you didn’t notice the curious eyes watching you from the deep waters. When you slipped a swimsuit on, just in case, and plunged into the cool waves, you didn’t realize that there was something just out of sight with his hungry gaze fixed on you. That would change the next day, however.

The next morning, you took off at dawn to the beach. You set everything up, eagerly waiting for the sun to finish rising. In awe, you watched the sunrise the same way that the creature that was creeping up from the depths was watching you. As soon as you’re in the water, tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, your waist. Puckers leaving soft pink marks all over your skin.

“Oh!” you squeak, lifting your legs to look what’s all over you. You gently touch the tentacle around your waist, confused but curious. “What’s this then?”

“Hello,” the octo-man said as he slowly broke the water’s surface. It seemed like he was nervous.

“Hello,” you echoed, looking at him with a tilted head.

He reached out to touch you, and a chill snaked down your back. His hand felt so squishy but also velvety. Kind of like the tentacles. In seconds, his lips were on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as if staking a claim.

Your body reacted on its own, curling into his, wrapping your arms around him. In seconds, he dragged you to a small partially underwater cave just a little ways off the shore. The merman set you on a shelf of the cave, leaving you only up to your knees in the water.

“My little trinket,” he muttered as he began to tease your cunt over your swimsuit bottom.

You whimpered softly, bucking your hips slightly against the sucker that was now attached to your clit with only the thin fabric between. He smirked at your obvious need. The tentacle itches away from you before another joined it to strip your bottoms. Your cunt was already getting slick, much to his excitement. His tentacles wrapped around your body, teasing you, prodding you.

Suckers found your sensitive nipples, and another found it’s way back to your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. Your cunt was throbbing, nearly dripping. “Fuck,” you moaned, arching more against his tentacles.

That was all it took for him. His largest tentacle began to push into your cunt, stretching you wide. You whimpered and moaned as he slowly stretched you out, your cunt gripping it as each inch pushed deeper and deeper into you. Another pushed into your mouth, down your throat. You gagged as you were stretched to what you thought was your limit. Then, your lover, his eyes half lidded as he groped and touched your soft human body, began to lift you slightly. His six other tentacles wrapped around you, helping lift you off the shelf. You didn’t think much of it, blissed out and on the edge of orgasm.

Just as suddenly as he lifted you, he unwound one of his tentacles from your waist, pushing it inside of your ass. You cried out against the tentacle in your mouth, but barely anything came out. He laid you down, unwinding another tentacle and shoving it into your already stretched cunt. Soon enough none where holding you as you were laid out on the shelf, your feet only in the water. A sucker was back on your clit, teasing you until you finally pulsed around the tentacles inside of you, drawing them in closer.

“There we go. That’s a good trinket,” he huffed, his sloppy kisses lining your neck.

He pushed his largest tentacle so deeply inside of you that you were certain it was in your womb. A bulge in your stomach seemed to confirm it. He panted as he came, the hot liquid a stark contrast to how cool he felt. Your eyes rolled back in your head, pathetic little whines pushing against the tentacle in your mouth.

The largest tentacle withdrew, dribbling a white liquid. However, the smaller one stayed inside, as if keeping you plugged. The tentacle in your mouth finally let you breath, withdrawing to lazily wrap around your chest. The only one actively thrusting into you now was the one in your ass, slowly and deliberately timing the thrusts to the sucking of the sucker still on your clit.

You don’t know how long you lay there, moaning and begging the merman to keep going, but by the time his cum is leaking out of you and multiple loads have been dumped into your little human womb, it’s sunrise again.

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a-simple-imagine · 3 months

Text

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic

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lxkeee · 3 months

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Hi, could I request a Lucifer morningstar x darkness demon overlord reader? She lurks in the shadows like a boogeyman, she acts like morticia adams from the adams family, how would he meet or act around the gothic queen👁👁✨

LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER

Part two

Lucifer was just wandering around hell, unknowingly entering a territory of an overlord.

He doesn't know okay? It's just a forest of dead wilted trees with ominous aura.

His first instinct is to investigate.

This is his first time coming here, he only discovered this area after flying by to return to the palace.

Lucifer was walking around the dense forest, with his guard up.

The forest was quiet. A little too quiet.

He isn't afraid, unfortunately. He knows he can kill any demon who would try to mess with him.

Crack. A twig snapped

His head whipped to the direction of the noise, “Who goes there? Show yourself!” he threatens, wings in full display.

Shadows moving around him and finally stopping in front of him, morphing into a figure.

Lucifer expected a lot of things, but this.

A very tall and gorgeous woman, large deer antlers on her head. Sultry eyes and a smirk on her face.

Oh fuck, she's beautiful. Dangerous. He can sense the power she has.

“Good evening your highness, I didn't expect to see you here wandering around my home.” the woman says with a chuckle, making the man become a little flustered.

“Your home...?” he asked hesitantly and the woman nodded.

“Yes, this is my home or rather my territory. My home is somewhere around here. I just sensed a presence around these grounds and decided to check. I didn't expect to see the king of hell to be here.”

“M-my apologies, my lady. I simply didn't know.” he stammers a bit. Ah, calm yourself Lucifer. You're more powerful so you shouldn't be intimidated, he says to himself internally.

“It is alright, if you don't mind. Do you want to join me for a cup of tea? I just so happen to have finished brewing some.”

Lucifer is cautious around sinners, especially her. He doesn't know why his heart is palpitating this much. The best reason he got is fear loud incorrect buzzer noise

“I don't want to intrud—”

“Nonsense! You're not intruding.”

“But—”

“Do not fret, I am not going to hurt you. I should be the scared one as you are much more powerful than me. I am sure you can obliterate my existence with a flick of your finger.” the woman laughs softly, a kind of laugh that reminds him of the books he's read. The kind of laugh that draws you in.

“How about this, how about we get acquainted with each other? So that you'll be more comfortable?”

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, “Why are you so insistent?”

“Well, I just love making friends and you my dear seem to be an interesting character that I don't mind befriending.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes but eventually nodded, “Fine, My name is Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Wonderful, then... It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lucifer, my name is [y/n]” She says before gently holding his hand and placing a small kiss on his knuckles.

With a smirk on her face as her eyes looked at him as she did so.

Lucifer's cheeks reddened, quickly snatching his hand away from the demoness.

“So, about that tea?”

Lucifer is beginning to see a pattern.

A type even.

It's been a few months since he's met the deer demoness.

Surprisingly he managed to get along with her, despite her... Rather questionable actions.

He often visits her mansion at the middle of the forest where he met her or the other way around.

She often surprises him by popping out of the shadows with her presence concealed.

She's playful, mysterious, dangerous, beautiful.

And tall.

He likes his women tall okay?

And he likes them a little deranged.

Anyways.

She keeps teasing him.

Just like the other day, he came to visit at the wrong time and she forced him to help her get dressed.

It was inappropriate! She only asked him to zip the zipper of her dress.

Poor guy was blushing.

She didn't make fun of his obsession with rubber ducks.

She even made ducks out of shadows and made it swim around his room and of course, he made one too with his powers.

The shadows and gold dust ducks swimming around the room and in the air.

It was... Cute...

Lucifer has gotten to know the woman better too, he has gotten the chance to see many sides of her.

Lucifer isn't stupid, he can tell he's developing feelings for her.

He's afraid, he's afraid of getting hurt again or hurting her.

He has issues he needed to fix first.

Though, he is slightly a flustered mess around the woman.

Can you blame him? She calls him endearing nicknames! She calls him sweetheart and it just makes his heart flutter.

He is cautious around her not because he's afraid of her but because he fears his feelings for her would accidentally be known.

And she just appears out of nowhere!

It took awhile for him to sort his emotions and he thinks he is finally ready to confess.

But first, Lucifer needs to find hints if she feels the same way.

“Thanks for the coffee, [y/n]. It tastes amazing as always.” Lucifer says, admiring the duck shaped cream that is floating on his coffee.

“It is a pleasure, sweetheart. Drink to your heart's content. I know you've been stressed lately.” She says with a gentle voice.

“I have a question.” he started, already planning a discreet way to ask her.

“Hmm? Go ahead.”

“What if let's say... You have a close friend and you've only known him for a couple of months but they fell in love with you and now they're planning to confess to you? Would you date him?”

Don't mind him guys, he's trying his best.

[y/n] tilts her head slightly, confused before giggling.

She's not stupid but she kinda wants to tease him.

“Depending on who this friend is.”

“Just answer.” he deadpans.

“Yes, would you confess though?” she asked as she leans forward to reach him across the table, holding his chin. Lips just a few inches away from each other.

Lucifer.exe has stopped working.

“Y-yes...” he stammers, beginning to feel shy as his cheeks heat up.

“Do you want a kiss?” she asked teasingly.

“Please...?”

“Good boy.” she says before finally pressing her lips against his.

It was the most addicting kiss he ever experienced.

“I like you.”

“I like me too.”

“[y/n]!”

“I am just joking, I like you too.”

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee answers #lucifer morningstar

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tasteleeknow · 4 months

Text

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest.

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table.

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head.

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—”

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add.

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.”

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga.

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall.

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away.

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?”

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says.

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always.

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you.

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness.

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.”

“God, you scared me.”

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away.

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly.

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips.

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him.

You love him.

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him.

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him.

You loved him.

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens.

It falls.

You’re pathetic without it.

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know.

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning.

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up.

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep.

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs.

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time.

Not an option.

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder.

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it.

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak.

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him.

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all.

You shake your head.

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose.

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight.

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night.

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.”

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all.

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him.

“Not really.”

His eyebrows pull together.

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify.

“Tell me.”

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.”

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?”

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly.

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing.

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.”

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face.

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—”

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers.

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind.

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.”

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I—”

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.”

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.”

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely.

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…”

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

#lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #minho drabbles

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