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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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#. . . Five times Max refuses to acknowledge he’s sick + one time he does.

request made by @lucien-calore. . . “hi, you asked for a max request and i shall deliver! can i please have a sickfic where max refuses to acknowledge he's sick (a flu or something, nothing too serious) but when he does, he acts like a drama queen?”

You’re making dinner when you hear Max coughing from his streaming room, then the laughs of his friends making fun of him.

You don’t think too much about it. That is until he can’t stop coughing while you’re eating, and when you’re getting ready for bed, and at all during the night.

It’s only in the morning, as you’re making breakfast and he’s feeding the cats, when you decide to say something.

“Baby?” You say, trying to look nonchalant while making the eggs.

“Yes?” He puts the cat food away and makes his way to you. Max hugs your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What happens?”

“I’m gonna go to the pharmacy after pilates, do you need anything?”

Max hums, like actually thinking about it before saying, “No, love. Got everything I need.”

“You sure? Nothing for that cough you have?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kisses your cheek and pulls away, grabbing an apple. “I’m gonna be streaming, make sure to say goodbye before you leave, okay?”

“Are you okay?” It’s the fourth time in less than an hour that Max enters the kitchen to fill his bottle of water.

“Yeah, it’s just that all the singing and screaming at the concert last night left me with a sore throat.”

You try not to laugh but it’s impossible. It’s been three days since he started with that horrible cough, which hasn’t stopped, but he still doesn’t understand that he’s probably sick.

“Max, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that.” You close the book and get up from the couch, he looks confused as you get closer and place your hand on his forehead. “Jesus, Max, you’re burning up!”

“I’m hot, don’t you think?”

“Max, I’m serious, you got a fever.”

“It’s probably nothing,” He reassures you by placing a kiss on your cheek before turning around. “I fell asleep on the terrace. I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”

“Max, I swear to God—”

“You look hot when you’re angry.” That’s the last thing he says, walking away.

“Max!”

It's impossible. You’ve tried everything to make Max understand that he’s sick and needs to rest, but he won’t admit it.

This morning you practically begged him to stay in bed to rest and recover, but he did not listen to you, saying that it was nothing — as he’s been saying all week — and actually dragged you to the Padel court because ‘I’m gonna win this time’.

Dani’s visiting, so, everyone got together to spend Sunday morning at their favorite place, promising to go to brunch after. But it’s been three hours and they have just finished the second game. Who’s fault is that? Max’s.

It’s no secret that Max is not very good at Padel, but now that he’s sick it’s been torture. Every couple of minutes they have to stop the game for him to cough, so it’s been impossible to actually play and he doesn’t want to give up.

And it’s worse because Charles is his partner. Only a look at the Monégasque and you know he wants to murder him.

“Max,” You call his name, leaving your book aside and walking closer to the wall that’s separating both of you. “you’re sick, why don’t we go home?”

“But, baby, I really think I can win this one.”

“No you won’t!” Lando shouts from across the court as he’s stretching.

“Oh shut u—”

“Max, I’m serious.” You don’t know what else to do at this point. He’s always been so stubborn, but this has reached new levels.

“I’m gonna win this for you, baby.” He winks and turns around to join the rest of the group.

“Max? Why are you still in bed?” You enter the room, gaze immediately going to the watch on the nightstand. It’s two in the afternoon. He never stays in bed past ten, not even during winter or summer break.

“Jus’ tired.” He mumbles, face hidden in the pillows.

“I’m gonna make you a cup of tea, okay?” You sit next to him, stroking his hair.

“Don’t want a cup of tea,” He opens his eyes, looking up at you and pouting. It makes you giggle. “I want you.”

“I won’t kiss you until you admit you’re sick.”

“That’s so unfair!” He pouts again, this time grabbing your arm and trying to make you lie next to him. “I’m not sick. I’m like super healthy.” You snort, shaking your head and standing up.

“Then, no kisses for you.”

Max groans, hiding his face under the blankets. “I can survive without your kisses, you know.”

That makes you laugh because you know Max, and you know how much he likes to kiss you at every opportunity. The chances of Max keeping that promise… Impossible.

“Whatever gets you through the night, Maxie.”

“Hey, baby.” Max places a kiss on your cheek as you leave the grocery bags on the kitchen table. “You got everything for tonight?”

“Yes. I already talked with your mom and they’ll be here at around nine.” Max helps you put the groceries away, frowning when he sees some medicine and a special broth he knows perfectly well among the things you will need for dinner tonight.

“What's this?”

You try to hide a smile, pretending to be busy with anything just to keep you from looking at him. “Your mom said you used to love it as a kid.”

“Yeah,” He says, still confused. “when I was sick.”

“You are sick, Max. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this.”

“I am not!” He huffs, rolling his eyes. You can see from the irritated expression on his face that he's tired of you repeating the same thing over and over again. “I’m gonna go play for a little bit.”

You grab his hand before he can walk away, pulling him closer to you. “Hey,” Max raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to talk. But you cup his cheeks instead, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m worried, I don’t want you to get worse.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You can only watch as he leaves the room, Jimmy following closely behind.

“Well, I tried.” You mumble, looking at Sassy perched on the counter. She meows and you’re glad at least someone understands you.

“Schatje?” You hear Max’s hoarse voice say.

“Mmh?” It’s your answer, busy peeling some vegetables. “What happens?”

He hesitates for a second, you see from the corner of your eyes how he avoids looking at you, which makes you stop and turn your attention to your boyfriend.

“I’m sick.” He whispers, surprising you. But he deserves a little teasing.

“What? I didn’t hear you.” You play dumb, and Max sees right through you.

“You were right, okay? I was being an idiot.”

“Yes, you were.” He pouts, making you feel warm all over. You walk to him, placing your hand on his forehead. “You have a fever. Why don’t you go lie down on the couch, uh? I’ll heat up the broth.”

“I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He breathes into the air, blushing all the way from his cheeks to his neck. You know that admitting when he’s wrong is not something easy for him.

“I know, baby. But,” You reach up and boop Max on the nose with your index finger. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But I wanted to help you, everyone’s about to arrive.”

“Worry about what your mom will say once I tell her how stubborn you have been.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “If you’re a good boy and take the medicine, I’ll think about giving you a… reward.”

If Max takes the medicine and finishes all the broth is only because he wants to get better. It has nothing to do with the reward you’re going to give him tonight.

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

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aperrywilliams · 11 months

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Under the Rain (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Spencer fucked up but Reader loves him.

A/N: It's winter on this side of the world, and the rain makes me kind of sad.

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Is there anything worse than your boyfriend standing you up in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary? Yes, being stood up by your boyfriend in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary day while outside it’s raining cats and dogs.

That's worse. And pathetic.

You feel pathetic, sitting in that chair, all dolled up and waiting. You arrived at 19:30, and now your watch reads 20:45. No sight of Spencer.

What the fuck?

He was the one who suggested a romantic dinner in this very restaurant. He was the one who told you to make reservations. How could he forget it? You knew there wasn’t an active case. The very Penelope told you it was paperwork day when you texted her in the afternoon.

In the past hour, you dialed his number several times. You were worried at some point: what if something terrible happened to him? But you know bad news travels fast, so you assumed he didn’t show up just because he forgot. Deep down, you wanted there to be another explanation because if he only forgot, that would strengthen the idea of how little you mean to him.

Sensing the pitiful looks the hostess and the waitress sent you occasionally, you only wanted to dig a hole and disappear.

When the clock marked 21:00, you gave up. You asked the hostess for your coat and left the place completely silent.

The rain pouring outside was the perfect scenario for your current mood. You thought about calling a cab in front of the restaurant, but you only wanted to be far from that place as soon as possible, so you started to walk in the rain.

Goodbye to the stylish hairstyle that took you hours to achieve. Goodbye to the makeup you put so much effort into doing.

Striding along the sidewalk, you made sure to step on each water puddle you found along the way as you recalled every moment in the past months you felt Spencer away from you. And not only physically as when he was in a case. It was more than that. It was each morning he didn’t say I love you before leaving your shared apartment. It was each text he didn’t send telling you he was coming home or leaving for a case. It was each coffee you didn't share in the morning. It was each animated chat in the middle of the night you didn't have.

Were you being dramatic? You knew Spencer’s tendency to distract and engage in whatever his job could present him. In any other circumstances, you could have understood. Not tonight, though. Not when it was supposed to be your night together celebrating this milestone. The two years of love you thought were strengthening your relationship. How blind you have been. How naive.

You kept wandering on the streets with no destination. You didn’t want to come back to the apartment. You didn’t know where else to go either. So you kept walking.

Spencer Reid is a man with an eidetic memory. Everybody knows that. He can remember every piece of information people usually wouldn’t recall. He knows almost everything about anything. But even with his big brain, he sometimes has trouble keeping track of his own life. Like today.

Engrossed in a pile of manila folders from old cases, he lost time. A task meant to take just an hour or so kept him occupied and entertained for almost four hours. Emily’s voice was the only thing that brought him back from those files to reality.

“You still here?” Emily asked with a frown. Spencer looked at her oddly.

“Yeah. I was looking for patterns in our last cases in the northwest. What Tara said about the mixed murder weapons sounded familiar to me,” he explained before rubbing his eyes. He didn't notice how tired he felt until Emily interrupted him.

“Spencer, it’s almost 10 pm. And there is no active case. You can resume this tomorrow. I even thought you had plans today?”

‘10 pm’ and ‘plans today’ was enough to bring Spencer to realization.

“Fuck!” He yelped, jumping from his seat and freezing immediately, not knowing what to do.

“What?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in Spencer’s eyes.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he repeated over and over as he reached for his phone in his satchel.

“What is it, Reid?”

“Emily. I was supposed to be in a restaurant with (Y/N) tonight! It’s - uh - it’s our second anniversary,” he, visibly embarrassed, finished the sentence.

Emily shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Reid? How on earth do you forget something like that?”

“I don’t know! I - I don’t really know. Fuck. I’m an asshole!” He checked the phone: twenty missing calls. Why he left it on mute?

“Stop complaining and do something! Come on! Move your ass out of here if you want a chance of not being precisely kicked in the ass by her,” Emily instructed. She knew Spencer needed directions when he was freaking out.

Spencer rechecked his watch. It read 10:05 pm.

Swearing under his breath, he dialed your number, which went straight to voicemail. Putting his coat on, he tried again while rushing to the elevator. Maybe you were still at the restaurant? Getting in the first cab he found, Spencer headed there.

Once he arrived, he asked the hostess about you. The girl told him you left after 9 pm.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He called you again with no success. This time you turned off your phone. Spencer’s stomach was a knot, and his heart hurt imagining you sitting alone, waiting for him.

Were you at home? Spencer guessed you wouldn't want to see him, so it was less probable. Should he go there anyway and wait for you? No. You deserved better than that. He would look for you even if it could take all night. Taking a cab, he decided to check the apartment - just in case - and grab his car keys.

As expected, you weren’t in the apartment. Spencer faced the darkness and coldness of the place, and a chill ran down his spine—the fear of losing you forever.

In the car, he thought, where you could be. It was still raining, and Spencer feared you were getting soaked and frozen, God knows where.

It was at this kind of moment Spencer wanted his eidetic memory, and all the knowledge in his brain could help to compensate for the dose of common sense he lacked.

‘Come on, Spencer. Think. For once in your life, do it for what is really important for you.’

Spencer parked and rushed out of the car, hoping his hunch was correct. He was in a park. Not any park, though. It was where he met you three years ago—where his life changed forever and for the better for once.

You were in a swing, moving softly back and forth, your feet touching the ground. Your eyes focused on the rain collecting in the nook you created with your feet in the mud.

“(Y/N)!” Spencer called once he spotted you. The rain muffled the sound of his voice.

Your eyes didn’t leave the ground. At first, you thought you were imagining things. It could have been wishful thinking that your boyfriend really cared about you. He called again, and now your brain obliged your eyes to look toward the voice’s source.

Spencer was in a corner where the park's playground began. He was looking at you and wanted to run to you, but the fear you could run away made him stay there, as the rain dampened him.

The sight of you broke him. You were utterly soaked. Your coat and lovely black dress were ruined, and your face with traces of smeared makeup. He could even spot your bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.

He caused that. And Spencer hated himself for it.

Seeing you didn't say anything, barely acknowledging his presence, Spencer dared to take some steps forward. Your numb body didn't even flinch.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry,” were his first words. Expectable but useless for you. “I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I wanted to be there with you,” he apologized, giving a few steps closer to you. Not looking at him, you mumbled.

“But you weren’t. And if you really wanted to have been there, you would have.” Your voice was low and husky. You sounded tired and defeated. It was worse for Spencer. For him, you should be yelling. Telling him how hurting you were. How an asshole he was.

“Baby, there is no excuse for what I did. The last thing I want in my life is to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Spencer’s voice broke with each word.

What had he done? Why? How can he be so stupid? He loves you. You’re the most important person in his life, so why did he do that to you? How can he fix it?

Still not looking at him, you spoke again.

“I can’t understand, Spencer. It was our anniversary. You were the one who suggested doing it,” you remind him. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. It didn’t matter the mud, and it didn’t matter the rain still falling. Spencer needed to look at your eyes to explain himself.

“I’m an idiot. I lost track of time and forgot,” he mumbled. You held up your head and finally looked at him.

“You forgot? So it's true I’m not that important to you,” you concluded sadly. Spencer’s eyes widened.

“No! Don’t say that!” he pleaded.

“Am I wrong? I don’t think so.” Your chin wobbled, but you needed to say it. “I know your job is important, Spencer. I do. And I never wanted to compete with that because I thought I didn’t have to. But after these past months, I think I need to get used to the idea I lost you already,” you acknowledged with a pained sob betraying you. It was the pang of the meaning behind your own words.

The memories of the past months flashed before Spencer's eyes. And there he saw it. The kisses he didn't give you, the 'I love you' he didn't tell you. The nights he didn't sleep by your side—all the things he has been missing.

He realized that although he never doubted his love for you, he stopped nurturing it and took it for granted.

Crying, he took your hands, and by divine grace, you didn't push him away.

No words he could say would be enough to convey how sorry he was. But he needed to try because he didn’t want to lose you. You needed to know he loved you and that you owned his heart. You needed to know he just realized he made a mistake, and he wants to fix it.

“The first time I saw you in this very place, you were slowly swaying in this exact spot with your eyes focused on the book in your hands. I was so mesmerized that I never thought I would get the nerve to talk to you, you know? But I did. And when I saw the warm look you gave me when I asked you if you had read the author's biography, I felt my heart warming as never before. And when I heard your laugh after I clumsily tried to flirt with you? I swear it was the sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life,” Spencer confessed, eyes sparkling at the memory. You fondly recalled it too. You never liked to talk with strangers all of a sudden, but with Spencer? It felt natural and right.

“You let me in in your life. You opened your heart to me and taught me how to do that too. You realized I’m not the best student in those matters, though,” he chuckled, seeing your nod.

“Despite that, you believed in me. You gave me a chance to love you, and I swear loving you has been the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me so happy (Y/N). You have no idea. And that is the problem. I have not known how to love you the way you deserve. I hadn't realized what I was doing. I'm sorry. I spent much of my life fending alone, not walking with anyone by my side. And I know that does not excuse my behavior. Even so, I dare to ask for an opportunity to prove you do not have to compete with my job. Give me a chance to prove to you I can be better. I can be the man who deserves your love. Please let me gain back your love and the privilege to hear you laugh again."

Spencer was almost out of breath when he was done speaking. You mulled in his words as his hands enveloped yours, patiently awaiting your response. Would you give him a chance?

As the rain continued pouring down, your eyes focused on him, still kneeling before you with hopeful eyes.

You know he loves you. Even if he needs to be better at proving it to you. And you love him even if you feel hurt for what he did. You both would have to work to make it work. You both deserved the chance, though.

The answer to his question was clear then.

You hopped off the swing and kneeled, not releasing his hands grasp and pulling him to catch his lips with yours. He kissed you back with everything he had. When both parted, you smiled at him, and Spencer was trying to figure out what that meant. You spoke to make it clear.

“Please, just don't make me regret being in this same place three years ago.”

Spencer earnestly shook his head.

“I won’t. I promise,” he told you before kissing you again under the rain.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #under the rain #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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exhaslo · 5 months

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Puzzle Pieces Ch11

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, car sex, cockwarming, praise

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There was a slight chill in the air as the season's first snowflakes finally trickled down the cloudy sky. The moment Halloween passed, the atmosphere just smelled like Christmas. Every store, building and park was decorated for the holiday season.

Despite the cold winter air, the citizens of Nueva York kept their fall attire of simple t shirts and light sweaters. Those from out of town were easy to identify.

Such as Eddie Brock, who wore a thick coat and hat as he stood in front of your supermarket job. Frustrated by the fact that he could see his breathe, Eddie made his way inside. He breathed a sigh of relief towards the warmth and proceeded to the bakery section.

"Excuse me, is (Y/N) here?" Eddie said smoothly with a charming smile. One of the workers glanced at him,

"Not sure, she works at the Deli."

"Oh, Deli? Really?" Eddie whispered and thanked the worker.

That was a surprise. You were too chicken to handle something as fast pace as the deli back home. Here was worse. Hell, Eddie wouldn't be surprised if he saw you with gray hairs. Just the thought made him snort.

"Is (Y/N) around?" Eddie asked your supervisor.

Upon hearing your name, your supervisor glanced up at Eddie. Not recognizing the man, your supervisor hesitated. Everyone in the supermarket knew that you and Miguel were a thing. Miguel had already claimed you as his own and everyone was to make sure you did not have a hard time.

It wouldn't be pretty if you did.

"She called out." Your supervisor said simply and glanced at Eddie once more, "Mind if I ask who you are so I can inform her when she comes back."

"Her boyfriend. She left while I was away for work, do you think I could know when she works next? I'm sure she will be pleasantly surprised to see me,"

"Sorry, can't give out that information."

"Not even to her boyfriend?"

"No." Your supervisor said firmly. Eddie scoffed slightly,

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow then."

Once Eddie was out of sight, your supervisor was quick to reach for the store phone. You picked a good day to call out, but Jessica was not here to see this interaction. Eddie was a dead man if Miguel ever found out that he claimed to be your boyfriend.

"Yes, I have some news for the boss."

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You were ecstatic as Miguel took you out for the day. It took little to no convincing when he had you call out and already had his driver waiting. You put on your best clothes for him and followed Miguel everywhere.

Everything you looked at for longer than 10 seconds, Miguel ended up buying. You were quick to get embarrassed and tried to tell him to stop spoiling you, but you secretly loved it. No one had spoiled you the way he was.

"The bed is going to have no room for us if you keep looking at stuffed animals," Miguel whispered in your ear before kissing your shoulder. You felt your cheeks heat up as you turned to him,

"S-Sorry, they're all just so c-cute." You replied and grabbed his hand as you pulled him past the store, "B-But I don't n-need anymore!"

"Amor (love), let me get you everything your heart desires." Miguel said with a loving smile.

You hugged Miguel in response. You really couldn't believe how good he was to you. That and you kept forgetting that he was rich. Miguel will literally buy you everything you want and that was dangerous.

"I-I like those plush...B-But all I really want t-to cuddle with is...is you," You squeaked, hiding your face in your sleeves.

Miguel nearly groaned at your cute little confession. He just wanted to grab you by the waist and cover you with kiss and marks, but, you were out in a public mall. Miguel had a reputation to keep. He was just going to have to wait until you two get in the car.

As the two of you passed a large opening, Miguel looked down at the street below. Furrowing his brows, Miguel watched as a small crowd formed around two drug addicts being cuffed by the police. This was nothing new, but the drug was.

Thanks to the new mafia gang in town, Venom, a new drug has spread like wildfire. Miguel did not like it when his city and people were being threaten. This new drug was making whoever took it hallucinate that they were part of a hive mind and worshiped their King.

"Miggy, I'm going to get a drink. D-Do you want anything?" You asked innocently, unaware of what was happening around you.

"No thank you, amor. Here," Miguel gave you his card and kissed your hand, "Get yourself a snack too. You look a little pale,"

"Mhm, t-thank...you,"

Miguel watched you smile shyly, hurrying back to the line. He had to protect your smile. You were robbed of it so much already. As Miguel watched you, he felt his burner ring. Quickly answering it, Miguel moved away from other people.

"Sir, we got a tip from the supermarket. A stranger appeared and requested for (Y/N), claiming to be her boyfriend." Jessica said over the line. Miguel inhaled sharply,

"Did they send footage?"

"Yes, Lyla is sending you an enhanced image of her ex. We'll finally have a face to go with the name."

"The audacity for him to call himself her boyfriend, ha...Hahaha, I'm going to-"

"Hehe, what's so funny?" You asked, your smile wide as you drank your sweet smoothie. Miguel stroked your cheek,

"Nothing, mi dulce conejito (my sweet little bunny)." Miguel patted your head, adoring your expression, "Jessica, I want everyone to keep an eye out, okay?" He whispered.

"One more thing, Miguel. Apparently, Eddie is going to keep going back to the supermarket until he sees (Y/N)."

"That won't happen,"

With a click, Miguel hung up on Jessica and returned his attention to you. That smile of yours was being threaten again. As much as Miguel wanted to leave and go find your ex now, he couldn't leave you alone.

"Miguel, is there anything you want?" You asked, holding his hand.

"We're shopping for you today,"

"I-I know, but Christmas...is around the c-corner...and...and I want to get you s-something...t-that you'll like...or...need." You whispered, pressing your head against his arm. Miguel felt his chest tighten, wondering how many horrible holidays you've gone through,

"Anything you give me I'll cherish with all my heart," Miguel kissed the top of your head, walking around the mall some more, "But, if it pleases you, I can have my assistant, Lyla, help you."

"R-Really?! T-Thank you!"

Miguel was eager to gobble you up again. He resisted and kept spoiling you by buying clothes, gifts and whatever you looked at. He had forgotten about Christmas, since it really wasn't something that Miguel focused on.

Miguel probably should start getting his mother and brother something for Christmas, and of course you. Noticing one of the pop up Christmas stores coming up ahead, Miguel felt you slightly pull against his sleeve.

"Go on, conejita (bunny). I'm right behind you."

You squealed softly as you hurried to the store. Miguel chuckled lowly since it was one of those calendar stores, but it wasn't the calendars that made you excited. Miguel casually stood behind you as you ravaged the puzzles.

Now this gave Miguel an idea.

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You hummed happily as you walked out of the mall with lots of new puzzles. Sure, Miguel bought you plenty of other things, but the puzzles was what you were more excited about. Having his driver take all of your bags, you smiled as Miguel followed you inside.

"Someone's happy," Miguel teased. You slowly crawled onto his lap, pecking his lips,

"Thank you...so...so much!" You chirped. Miguel's hands rested against your waist, gently biting your lip,

"We have some time until we reach the restaurant." He groaned, slowly undoing your pants. You huffed your cheeks softly,

"D-Don't be t-too rough."

"Never," Miguel said with a smirk as he hand stroked your cheek.

You whimpered softly, feeling your heart race as Miguel started to give you an array of kisses. Although you said for him not to be too rough, you honestly loved it when he was. Slowly grinding your hips against his, you melted against his touch.

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Eddie cursed slightly as he walked down the streets of Nueva York. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he watched the normal citizens ignore him. That was all going to change soon. Soon, his new drug was going to get into everyone's hands.

Everyone will worship him.

But, he couldn't without his star player. You. Eddie needed you to help put his new drug into regular citizen's hands. But you just had to move without telling anyone. You just had to be useless and make his life harder.

"Gentle, Eddie. We have to be gentle at first," Eddie whispered to himself.

He wasn't going to take you back without force of course. Eddie knew that he could still manipulate you to do his bidding. All he had to do was say a few sweet words and you would come crawling back to him. It was easy.

Stopping at the edge of a sidewalk, Eddie couldn't help but notice the fancy limo car beside him. He cocked a brow since the back of the mini limo was shaking. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, knowing that someone was having the time of their life.

The windows weren't even tinted that much. When the light turned green, Eddie went to get a glance as the slutty couple. His eyes widen as he swore he saw you moaning as you bounced on some stranger's dick.

"Nah, we're just seeing things now." Eddie whispered, before reaching for his phone, "But...I better get (Y/N)'s address just to be sure."

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You moaned loudly as Miguel held your hips down. You were clenching against his dick as your body calmed down from another harsh orgasm. You swore you saw stars as your body finally relaxed. Miguel chuckled, kissing your neck as he slowly started to thrust back into you,

"See? I said I would be gentle," He teased, rubbing your clit in the process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whimpering softly,

"I-I know~ mhm~ B-But...W-What if s-someone...ah~"

"I can always lower the window,"

"N-No~" You cried out as Miguel went faster, "M-Miggy~ I-I w-wanna be able t-to w-walk~"

"You will, baby," Miguel chuckled darkly.

Flinging your head back as you rode Miguel's dick, you moaned as you felt nothing but pleasure. Miguel grunted as he pulled you back in and groaned as he started to get rougher. You gasped and cried as Miguel brought you to another orgasm.

"Miguel~" You cried out.

"Good girl, (Y/N)," Miguel groaned as he unloaded inside of you, "See, still gentle,"

"Mhm," You rested against his chest, calming from your high, "S-Still super e-embarrassing. A-Are you sure...y-your driver d-didn't hear us?" Miguel carefully fixed you back up as the driver looked for parking,

"I'm sure." Miguel smirked, pecking your lips as he trailed your panty line, "Want him to hear us?"

"N-No!" You squeaked, covering your face.

Miguel laughed towards your behavior and helped you out of the car. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you into the restaurant since your legs were still shaking. He glanced down at your flustered cheeks and thought. He needed to casually tell you that it wasn't safe to go back to work.

"(Y/N), what would you think about not working at the supermarket anymore? I can take care of all your needs." He whispered as the waiter greeted them. You glanced up at Miguel,

"B-But...I don't want-" You stopped, knowing that Miguel didn't think of you as a burden, "I-I'll feel like I'm...just using y-you. I-I want to w-work too."

"Then, work for me?" Miguel suggested as they sat at their fancy table, "I could always use an extra hand." He offered. Your eyes sparkled at the suggestion,

"R-Really?" You gasped and thought, "A-As much...as I-I would like a c-change...but...I...I really can't."

"Why not, baby?"

"W-Well...I-I haven't had...a chance to t-tell you...But," You covered your mouth, looking shyly towards Miguel, "M-My parents...o-own the supermarket I work at...W-Which i-is why...s-someone like me can e-even work...t-there."

Miguel's eyes widen as he proceeded this new information. The supermarket that he took care of his mafia business at; the supermarket were he got his goods from; the supermarket that Miguel had great connection with....was owned by your family.

And those same owners told your ex where you went.

"Is that so?" Miguel said with a devilish smirk.

This just made things even easier for Miguel.

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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babyvixen27 · 5 months

Text

Did you miss me? 18+ Minors DNI

Tommy Shelby/Younger Sister Reader!

Tommy goes away and comes back to find his baby sister has become a woman. Why is it hitting him so damn hard.

Warnings: Incest! DARK CONTENT! Tommy is low-key abusive and kinda crazy, If this is something that triggers, please don't read! Coercion, unsafe sex, name calling, possessiveness, misogyny, slapping, hair-pulling, manipulation.

The patter of your bare feet echoes faintly down the corridor as you make your way to Tommy’s office. He had come home from a 3-month-long business trip, and no one had cared to inform you, letting you nap all evening to the gentle sound of rain. You knew he’d arrived when your eyes opened and not a sound was heard in Arrow House, as though all the life that’d been booming these past weeks had shriveled and died when his car pulled in.

He seemed to be in a worse mood than usual nowadays, you thought, hesitating at the handle. Smoothing your hair down, you push in and find him exactly as you imagined: a cigarette in one hand, whiskey in the other.

“You didn’t wake me,” you murmur, stepping further in, waiting for a sign of approval. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were a docile young woman; usually, it was quite the opposite. But there was something in your older brother's gaze that always made you feel small, and you twiddled your toes into the carpet, squirming under it now.

“Didn’t want to bother ya’,” he grunts, finishing his drink in one swig, motioning you in with his fingers. “You been walking around like that while I’m gone?” He says, running his eyes down your scantily clad body, making your cheeks burn.

“It's my house too,” you giggle, giving him a twirl, silk red slip shining in the firelight. “You busy?” you hum, padding around his desk and standing just before him, looking down into those pretty cold eyes.

Tommy watches your every move closely. It had been a while since he’d seen his baby sister, and oh how much can change in so little time. Your smooth skin shines under the dim lights, womanly figure peeking through the translucent fabric of your dress, and he ignores the sudden pull in his belly.

“Just tired,” he grumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as you step between his legs, soft hands resting on his shoulders, letting out a low groan as you begin to rub circles into the muscles. “I missed you,” you whisper. You really did, despite his ill temper and lack of conversation skills. You always found comfort in him; he had taken on the role of your protector, and despite his tough exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you.

Tommy leans back in his chair, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he looks up at you. "Missed you too, love," he admits, his voice a bit softer than before. The tension in the room seems to ease a little as you continue to massage his shoulders.

“You barely called,” you pout, plump pink lip glimmering, and the brief image of biting down on it flashes through his head.

“M’here now,” he cuts you off, running his large hands up your hips, settling on your waist as he pulls you towards him. “Off to bed with ya’. I’ve got work to do, and you’re coming in with me tomorrow.” Tommy’s dominance always seemed to take up all the air, leaving no room for arguments. You couldn’t help but feel out of place in his presence. Such a delicate little thing, with your bows and lace, like a flower growing in the dead of winter.

You offer a soft smile, leaning down to peck him on the cheek before straightening up. "Fine, fine. But only because you missed me," you tease, giving him a quick wink.

Tommy smirks, rough fingers tracing patterns on your waist. You pull away, sighing as his hands leave your body, and make your way to the door. “Goodnight, Thomas. It’s good to have you back,” you hum, disappearing down the corridor, leaving him with the familiar dizziness he gets whenever you two interact.

Pouring himself another drink, he thinks back to your sweet scent, the feel of your soft lips on his cheeks, the slope of your perky tits in your dress. Slamming the glass down with a grunt, he clears the images from his head and begins to tackle his work, drowning any more thoughts of his baby sister with another bottle.

The next morning, you stood at the door, bouncing on your heels while you wait for him to come down. All these days wandering around the house have left you with little need for dressing up. So, you pulled out a pretty pink dress you’d been saving, curls held up in a loose tie, and a little more makeup than usual. Heavy footsteps pulled you from your thoughts as your brother made his way past you, grumbling a faint "morning," barely sparing you a glance. Running to catch up to him, you clamber into the passenger seat, crossing your arms with a huff, and stare him down. "Well?"

Tommy looks you over, pulling a long drag from his cigarette as he takes in your kohl eyes and pink lips. His gaze drifts lower to the low-cut neckline and further to the bunched-up fabric on your plush thighs. A million words rush through his brain, and he settles on, "You look nice," keeping it curt as he begins the drive. He smirks as you scoff and turn your body towards the window.

The office was buzzing as usual, men running around like worker ants past you while Tommy stepped out to speak with someone. A light tap on your shoulder makes you whip around, meeting the bright faces of your older brothers: Arthur and John, as they sweep you up into a grapple. Giggling, you try to break free as they tickle and tease you before you’re all interrupted by the sound of Tommy clearing his throat at the door.

“It’s not proper for a lady to be acting this way in front of strangers,” he says slowly, a frown pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, come on, Tommy, we was just teasing our baby sister,” Arthur laughs as John tugs a free strand of your hair. “Get off me, you big idiots!” You laugh, smacking them both as you all come down from the high. Arthur and John release you, straightening up with amused smirks on their faces. Tommy's expression remained serious, a mix of annoyance and something else bubbling beneath the surface. "Teasing or not, this is a place of business," he growls, his voice low. "We have a reputation to uphold.” He finishes, moving between you and your brothers, placing a firm hand on your lower back to guide you towards his office. You roll your eyes playfully but allow him to lead you away.

As you walked, Arthur and John exchanged amused glances behind Tommy's back; they weren’t immune to your womanly traits. Despite you all having a strong bond, Tommy had always placed an unspoken claim over you. You were just happy to be with your loving brothers. The rest of the day went by in the same fashion, them finding ways to tease and touch you, showering you with compliments as Thomas looked on with a scowl.

He was fed up as he packed up for the day, practically dragging you to the car and speeding home in silence. The tension in the car was palpable as Tommy drove back to Arrow House. The sound of the engine roared in the silence, and you couldn't help but fidget in your seat, glancing at your brother from time to time. His jaw was clenched, and his grip on the steering wheel was tight. As the car pulled into the driveway, he parked it with a screech, the sudden halt causing you to stumble forward. The air was heavy, and you hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence.

“Have I done something wrong?” You ask, voice soft and laced with confusion. Tommy took a deep breath before he spoke, trying to keep his emotions under control “Yer a fucking woman now, y/n.” He snaps, “giggling and bouncing around like a whore isn’t a good image for the Shelbys.” Eyes widening, your lips open and close as you try to find the right words, stomach-churning in shame. “I didn’t think-” “Of course you don’t,” he interrupts. He knows he's being harsh, but as he glances back at you and sees the strap of your dress slip down your shoulder, the remainders of his resolve break away, grabbing a handful of your hair he pulls you in for a searing kiss.

You freeze, feeling him groan against your lips as he holds you in place with one hand, the other moving its way up your thigh. With a jolt, you push on his chest and scramble as far away as you can in the tight space. “Why- I don't understand” You whimper, watching his eyes darken as they take in your trembling body. “You’re a woman now y/n” He repeats, “I know that you see the way men look at ya’” He murmurs, moving closer, “like yer a fuckin’ peace of meat. Like they’d pay anything for a chance between those pretty legs,” he says, grabbing your ankle and pulling you down the seat, settling between your thighs. “You’re mine. Always have been. Since you were a little girl playing in the mud” Whispering into your neck, he punctuates each word with a thrust, you can feel his hardness bumping against your panties and the reality of it all kicks, tears finally beginning to pour.

“Please Tommy” your voice barely over a whisper, “You’re scaring me”. He shushes you gently, placing soft kisses down your neck, pulling down the straps to your dress slowly, as he hungrily takes in the exposed flesh, breath catching as the fabric moves past your breasts. They bounce out, nipples hardening in the cool air and he curses under his breath reaching up to cup one on each hand. “But you’re my brother” You squeal, as his thumb brushes over the peaks, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. “All the more reason” He chuckles darkly, “who better to own you than your flesh and blood”.

Pulling you in for another kiss, you relax slightly as his words ring in your head. You had noticed the looks you’d get, the special treatment, the passing comments. You also knew that you would eventually have to find a man who wasn’t as scary as the rest, trusting him to build a home, a family. Maybe Tommy was right. He had always been there, keeping you safe and comfortable. He was in no way unattractive, strong jaw and plump lips with a strong physique that you knew the women that were bold enough to mess with the Peaky Blinders swoon over. You feel dizzy and confused as the thoughts run through your head.

“Focus on me mouse” He laughs, noticing you drifting away. Deepening the kiss, his tongue slips past your lips and you moan softly as it dances with yours. Pulling away, you’re both flushed, panting harshly into each other's mouths, lips swollen and wet, connected by a string of spit that you coyly lick off his lip.

Raising his brow, his hand wraps around your throat, giving a warning squeeze. “Tell me you’re untouched” He whispers, “Tell me no man has gotten to my baby sister while I was gone”

You feel a cold rush over you, you think of lying but you’ve never been a very good liar and you know it's only going to make it worse. Instead, you look away from him, wanting to curl up in a ball of shame and disappear as you feel his fingers tighten slowly. “Tell. Me.” He spits, and all you can do is whimper, hoping he takes pity on your shaking frame. Suddenly, your airflow is cut off, hands flying up to grip his wrist while he tries to take deep calming breaths. “Who was it?” He whispers, giving you a quick slap when you don’t respond immediately. “who the fuck was it” he seethes, loosening his grip so you could speak. “Please don’t hurt him, Tommy! it was only once and I was the one who asked” You ramble, it was the truth, as ridiculous as it sounded and you prayed your brother would listen to you and spare the poor boy you’d jeopardized so foolishly.

“You…asked?” he repeated slowly and it was like a new wave of anger washed over him as he stormed out of the car, moving around to your door, yanking out by your arm. He led you to his bedroom, past the maids, past Frances who could do nothing but look away to give you some shred of dignity. and threw you onto the floor.

You scramble towards the bed but he stops you with a hand on your ankle tugging you towards him and raising you by your hair to your knees in front of him. “All this time, my sweet baby sister, our littlest Shelby” He laughs mockingly, “all this time… nothing but a whore who begs men for cock.” Your heart burns at his words and your tears cloud your vision as you babble out an apology “I promise Tommy, I was only curious, it was just once, please I'm so sorry” you cry, grabbing onto his leg as he looks down at you. With a firm grip on your chin, he raises your face to look up at him and swipes his thumb over your lips. “what did you do?” He asks softly. “We just kissed and then he-, he put it in and he pulled out so I wouldn’t get pregnant. I’m so sorry” You whimper, hoping your honesty would appease him. You hated to disappoint him, even as a little girl, you’d do everything you could so that he’d be proud of you. Crying for days on end when you’d done something wrong in his eyes and he’d give you the silent treatment.

“Did you cum?” He asks, to which you shake your head and confess you don’t know what that feels like. You’ve never even touched yourself. His anger is boiling below the surface but your confessions have cooled him a bit and seeing you on your knees, gives him an idea.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” He commands, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling his cock out, giving it a few tugs. Your eyes widen, watching his fist stroke up and down his huge length. It was probably twice as big as your lover, a thick vein running up the side to his fat pink tip leaking a sticky white fluid. You obey his command and he slaps it on your tongue, groaning as he gives a couple of shallow thrusts.

“This is a real cock y/n '' He chuckles, noticing the fear in your eyes. “Be a good little girl for me and stay still while I fuck yer slutty mouth.” You had heard about this from the maids, thinking back on their gossiping you remember to keep your teeth out of the way, closing your lips over the head and giving it a hard suck. Tommy stumbles slightly, breath hitching as his hands fly to either side of your head, pushing you into the side of the bed, you know you’ve done the right thing.

“Don’t forget to breathe” is all the warning you get before he plunges forward, your nose hitting the dark curls at the base making you gag and your eyes water. He doesn’t let you adjust, setting a brutal pace as he fucks your face, balls slapping your chin with each thrust and all you can do is focus on not throwing up, placing your palms on his thighs to try to hold him back.

“Fuck” He grunts, looking down at his dick disappearing down your throat and he smiles as he watches you struggle. Pulling out, he watches the spit spill down your chin, using his tip to spread it over your pretty face. “Put my balls in your mouth” he hums, continuing to stroke as you look up at him dumbly. “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.” You quickly try to do as he says, cheeks burning bright red at the dirtiness of it but the sound that he lets out you give them a gentle suck makes a little pride bloom in your chest. You continue like that for a while, alternating between the two, you don’t know how much time has passed but his thrust begins to stutter, and with a loud groan your mouth fills with liquid. “Don’t swallow” He breathes and you try your best to hold it all in your mouth but there is so much that it spills past your lips. He pulls out panting and slaps your cheek, “Let me see”. You open wide, showing the creamy white mess on your tongue and he leans to spit on top of it before ordering you to swallow. “Good fuckin’ girl” He chuckles.

Before you have a chance to catch your breath, he's tugging you up to stand, pulling you into his chest by your waist and smothering you in a wet kiss. You fall back together on the bed, sweaty skin sticking to the sheets and you each shred the rest of your clothing. The feeling of your bodies pressed against one another is electric, fitting into each other perfectly like you were made for the other. Tommy’s hand slips between your bodies, smirking when he feels the pool of slickness between your folds. “So good for me baby, look how wet you are” He breathes in your ear and you whimper as his fingers rub slow agonizing circles on your clit. “Please Tommy” You whine, raising your hips to try to get more friction. “Please what? You beggin’ me the way you did that fuck?” He growled, feeling his anger flare up again but you quickly shake your head with a cry. “No! No, I’m not, I didn’t, please I'm sorry, it was nothing like this” You babble as his fingers pick up speed and you feel an almost painful tightening in your belly. “It-It hurts Tommy” you whine out and he laughs at you, “Just relax baby, take what I give you”

Panting, you nod your head, desperate to please him, and feel your thighs begin to shake from the intensity. “Fuck oh my god, Tommy” You breathe and he gives your clit a slap, murmuring for you to watch your language before continuing his quick pace. Finally, you feel the coil in your belly burst and you scream as your cunt gushes. “My perfect girl, all mine.” he moans into your neck, moving suddenly between your legs, hands behind your knees raising your legs to your shoulders as he settles over you, angling his now-hard cock down into your entrance.

“Wa-wait Tommy '' you mumble, still coming too from the intense orgasm but Tommy has already begun to push in, spearing you slowly. The burn is a lot, you’d only done this once, months ago, and with someone much smaller, and you couldn't help but try to push his hips away as each inch made it harder to breathe. “Fuck, such a tight little cunt, feels like I could cum just from putting it in” He pants, losing himself in the wet warmth of his little sister. He’d dreamed of this moment for years, fantasies that he tried to push to the darkest, furthest part of his mind. On the days that they would roar for attention, he would indulge in a pretty prostitute that reminded him of you. Whether it was your hair or your eyes, he would fuck them like a starved animal.

Now here you were, so small under him, so vulnerable. His hips set a cruel pace from the start, giving you little time to adjust. You could barely breathe, he had you folded up, resting his weight on your chest as you let out little “Ah’s” with each thrust. “Please slow down” You try to say but he swallows it down in an open-mouthed kiss, groaning as you clamp down on him when he goes a little too deep. “Nasty little cockslut” He spits, straightening up, placing your thighs over his hips to reach a new angle. He can watch your tits bounce this way, spitting on them before giving them a firm slap. You can’t stop watching the bulge on your stomach that appears every time he thrusts in. “You’re so deep” you breathe, squealing when he presses down on it.

Without pulling out (or warning), Tommy flips you on top of him. Giving your ass a smack, you take the hint and begin to bounce. Having to do the work while he watches you flusters you, making you lose your pace but another sharp spank puts you back on track. “Do I feel good Tommy?” You purr, feeling a newfound power as you watch his face contort every time you squeeze him. “Like fucking heaven baby” he growls, leaning up to suck on your bouncing tits. You keep up a steady pace, feeling the coil building again, but suddenly Tommy shoves you forward, pulling you into his chest as he pistons his hips up at an animalistic pace, hitting the perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars.

You scream, all shame leaving your body as you barrel over the edge, sticky cunt gushing over his dick, making a mess over his thighs. “Gonna pump you full mouse, make you mine forever. Say it.” He grunts. “I’m yours, Tommy, I’ve always been. I belong to you” You purr, smiling at the choked sound he makes when he digs in as far as he can, warmth filling your walls as you both breathe heavily. He holds you there, stroking gently up and down your spine while you play with curls on his chest. “I will find his name” he murmurs into your hair.

“I love you Tommy” You whisper, eyes falling shut.

“I love you too”

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First fic on here ! Im a little nervous hehe. Also not proof read! I just wanted to pump out my dream last night. Please let me know what you think!! It means a lot :)🤍

#18+ only #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut #tw noncon

656 notes · View notes

p0ckykiss · 8 months

Text

five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan

summary - how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages

-> sick y/n, worried jeonghan, fluff, established relationship, soft jeonghan!!!!, whipped jeonghan

seasonal depression is a real thing. at least, according to you it is. personally, jeonghan had never experienced it. its entire premise just didn't really make sense, is all. watching the leaves change colors and fall was beautiful, and when winter rolled around the corner, so did the holidays and days off. if anything, wasn't that a reason to be happier?

a sneeze interrupts his train of thought, and jeonghan feels a pang in his chest at the sight.

it's officially been three days with you being flu-struck, and you both hoped it would've gotten better by now, but if anything it only seemed to have gotten worse. the time reads a quarter past two, and jeonghan can't help but sigh.

you've been stuck on the couch since noon, curled up in your warmest blanket trying to watch the latest sitcom episode. your drowsiness is palpable, and every time you reach for a tissue to blow your nose, jeonghan flinches.

if seasonal depression corresponded with your well-being, then maybe jeonghan relates to it more than he thinks. and though jeonghan is chock-full of sympathy, his urgency to comfort you proves stronger.

and so jeonghan begins to rack his brain for different methods to make you feel better. and somehow his memories digress to the day you both took the love language test, even before you started dating. much to his embarrassment, jeonghan doesn't actually remember what your love language is, and he's way too prideful to ask. luckily, the nostalgia ends with the spark of a lightbulb, and jeonghan smiles. he knows exactly what to do.

—

the quest to rediscover your love language begins with the first type: words of affirmation.

slowly, jeonghan saunters over to you, trailing his fingertips over the leather of the couch, then over the fabric of the blanket, gently and gradually, until they find their way to your shoulder, and jeonghan leans down so you're promptly face to face. the quiet chatter from the TV fills up empty space, but it's not enough to force jeonghan to speak loudly. so he doesn't. instead, he inches ever so closer, until he can make out every beauty mark on your face, and he breathes, hardly above a whisper, "you're so beautiful."

in an attempt to play the compliment off, you merely roll your eyes. you blame your illness, though, when you can't contain the slightest inklings of a smile forming, nor the red flush that threatens to overtake your cheeks. you pair a gentle slap against jeonghan's arm with the statement, "i look like shit," and the accusation, "you're just saying that to make me feel better."

if it was even possible, jeonghan moves in closer, propping one hand on the couch arm for support so he could lift his other hand to rest perfectly under your chin. jeonghan swipes his thumb over your skin, hot to the touch, but he can't tell if it's from a blush or from the fever. "you might be right," jeonghan concedes, humming as he takes in every detail of your current state—rosy nose, puffy eyes, dry skin, messy hair—and yet jeonghan can't seem to find any flaws. inspection complete, jeonghan searches for the one thing he knows he can find. ever so faintly, glimmers dance in your eyes, and when jeonghan catches them with his own, like he's done before a million times, he repeats himself. "you might be right. i could just be saying that to make you feel better." jeonghan tucks one of many stray hairs behind your ear before reaching down to cup your hands together, "but that doesn't make it any less true."

and jeonghan can see it, can physically see it, how all of your insecurities instantly crumble, like a house of cards collapsing upon itself, melting away to make room for new walls, sturdier this time, built from affirmations and confidence and care.

a verbal response isn't required. all you do is smile, subtly, so that your lips barely curve up, and you close your eyes. but even this speaks volumes, because it's your cue of absorbing all the good things around you, no matter how small. it's also jeonghan's cue to add one final speck of positivity to your realm with a sweet kiss to your forehead, before he takes his leave to give you your much-needed space.

—

mindless chatter continues to emit from the TV, and when jeonghan peers into the living room, he spots you tucked away in your same spot on the couch, only this time your head rested lower and your mouth hung open, blissfully asleep and temporarily free from the virus that ailed you.

jeonghan is quick to shimmy on his coat. braving the bite of winter air, it was time to do some shopping for part two, giving gifts, in his mission to determine your love language.

months of taking extra shifts, saving up, determined observations, and heavy research all culminated into this one moment. he was battling not one, but two, life-or-death decisions. the first was to pick which gaming console to buy, and the second was to pick which game to correctly pair with said console. his dedication to this plan, despite being executed weeks before the planned date, does not fail him, and fifteen minutes later jeonghan is walking back into your home as if nothing even happened.

luckily, you are still asleep, which gives jeonghan enough time to wrap up (literally) this phase of the journey and get a head start on the next: acts of services.

—

about a million things fly through jeonghan's head when he watches you ease out of your slumber, the most prominent thought being how adorable you look, but the most important thought being how sick you still must feel, and how it's engraved in jeonghan's soul to fend off your demons.

unable to contain his excitement, jeonghan approaches you with his arms tucked behind his back, very conspicuously hiding something. you don't even get the chance to sit up before jepnghan kneels beside you, looking up with the largest pair of star-filled eyes.

jeonghan brings both hands forward, so the two presents display themselves proudly between you. "i was going to wait until christmas," he shuffles the gifts into your arms, "but i can't stand seeing you like this." jeonghan balls his fists into his lap to prevent himself from tearing away at the wrappings himself. "i hope you like it."

piece by piece, bits of red and green foil fall to the floor. no amount of congestion or itchiness in your throat could suppress the yelp that burst from your voice. "jeonghan," you begin, but the growing lump of emotion in your chest was making it damn near impossible to finish your sentence. "you really didn't have to."

jeonghan beams. "yes i did. i know how much you miss your old switch."

"you mean the one i threw out the window because i couldn't pass that one stupid level of super mario?"

it's clear that you are very unfond of the memory, but jeonghan simply finds it all the more endearing. "that's the one."

the grin on jeonghan's face has yet to falter, and suddenly the swells of appreciation that lap at your heart transform into guilt. you imagine all the sacrifices jeonghan must have made in order to afford this, all the late shifts he had to seek out, just to buy you a replacement for something you broke in the first place. you swallow a lump of equal parts of exasperation and admiration down your throat, ready to air out further protest because you really don't deserve this, and you sure as hell don't deserve jeonghan.

and jeonghan can imagine all of your internal turmoil, of course he can, which gives him all the more reason to assure you that you do, in fact, deserve the entire world. it's also happily up to jeonghan to deliver it to you. one warm hand placed on your cold ones and a couple of soothing circles rubbed atop of them later, and jeonghan has effectively drawn you out of your own bubble.

"whatever you're worrying about," jeonghan exhales, "don't." when jeonghan senses the tension releasing from your body, he drives his point across with a home run. "plus," he nods at the game he bought to accompany the console, mario kart 8, "we can play together this time, too."

there's no reason to argue, you conclude, especially not against jeonghan. a deep breath resets your mentality, and you try your best to return to your usual self, biting back a smile. "you know I won't go easy on you, right?"

"oh please," jeonghan ruffles your already messy hair, "in your condition, you'll be begging me to go easy on you."

frowning, you take a moment to envision this unlikely scenario. unwilling to even entertain the possibility of losing to jeonghan, you dodge the challenge altogether. "how about we play another time," you mutter.

and at that, jeonghan jumps to his feet, grabbing the switch and the game in one fell swoop. "i knew you were gonna say that," he giggles, "which is why I prepared something else."

after quickly shooting a prayer to whatever gods were out there, you tentatively say, "please don't tell me you got another ridiculously expensive gift. this is more than enough." you're more than enough, you want to add, but don't.

jeonghan all but skips to the kitchen. "i wouldn't exactly call this a gift." a painfully slow thirty seconds pass until he returns to the couch in the living room, to you, carefully balancing a plate of various desserts in one hand, and cradling what appeared to be a lighter in the other.

you squint, double checking if you were actually seeing what you thought you were seeing. "what exactly would you call it, then?"

figuring that calling it an act of service would be much too blatant, jeonghan settles on "lunch."

"lunch?" you eye the plate, definitively making out two chocolate bars, a sleeve of graham crackers, and a bundle of marshmallows.

once his rendition of a charcuterie board is secure on the coffee table, jeonghan maneuvers his way onto the couch and under the blanket, shoulder to shoulder with you one and only. "you haven't eaten all day. and i know you probably don't want to eat a proper meal," jeonghan gestures at their awaiting food, "but I also know you crave sweets when you're sick."

it should be second nature by now, really, with how many times jeonghan so casually demonstrates just how well he knows you, maybe even more than you knows yourself. but jeonghan leaves you in awe every time, regardless.

s'mores are your designated comfort food. the entire process is just so enjoyable, from prepping the ingredients and assembling the structure, to trying to eat the whole thing in one bite lest the remnants ooze out the sides. and so you both do just that.

lacking anything close to a fireplace or a firepit, you roast marshmallows skewered with chopsticks above the dim flame from the lighter. as per the laws of physics (or something like that), the first marshmallow never goes well, and you both end up with a big black burnt chunk of goo. you effectively hurl yours in the trash, but jeonghan dares to take a nibble off his own. he learns that curiosity does, in fact, kill the cat, and jeonghan scrambles to wash out that terrible ashy aftertaste on his tongue. then he hears the faint sound of you snorting, and he concludes that it was worth it.

you tackle the issue of melting the chocolate next, but it's jeonghan who requests to handle this part because he doesn't want to risk you getting burnt.

and so you watch as jeonghan carefully heats the chocolate piece by piece over the fire. and you note all of jeonghan's habits you've picked up on over the years. how jeonghan's tongue peaks out from the corner of his mouth when he's super concentrated, how he furrows his brows when he tries to see better, how he forgets to blink when there's one specific thing on his mind. and you feel yourself likewise melting like the chocolate, because even to this day, you still can't fathom how you were so lucky to have jeonghan to call yours.

"i hope you're hungry," jeonghan announces, grinning ear to ear.

you reciprocate the expression. it's assembly time.

you make a mess. it was inevitable, honestly. there was only so much precaution to be taken from your comfy position on the couch, legs and feet all tangled up in each other. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

laughter outshines any noise from the long-forgotten sitcom playing on the TV. each bounce of your shoulder from an accompanying chuckle is followed by the blanket sliding down, just a bit. jeonghan tries to be slick when he drapes his arm around you, a front to make sure he can pull the blanket back up every time it threatens to slip. but this is you. you, who notice everything that jeonghan does for you. you, who's grateful for all of it. you, who don't think you can love jeonghan any more than you already do.

—

an impromptu nap is essential for their post-s'more recovery. the last two love languages, physical touch and quality time, are much harder to gauge. considering jeonghan's affection is usually on full display 24/7 and the fact that he counts his entire lifespan with you as quality time, he can only hope you treasure your moments together as much as he does. and honestly, at this point, jeonghan is much too tired to care about his quest to uncover your love language. the only mission on his mind is to get you as close as possible, and so he seeks to accomplish just that.

pulling you into his arms, you both slump onto your sides, feet dangling off the edge of the couch, hands wrapped around shoulders and backs, and eyes locked unwavering onto the other's. jeonghan slips his bicep under your neck, fashioning a faux pillow, and rests your head against his chest, just above his beating heart.

you squirm in a weak attempt to create some distance between you. (you're not successful.) "i'm gonna get you sick."

jeonghan only snuggles closer. "i don't care," emphasizing his point with a chaste kiss upon your forehead, and then, oh so gently, on your nose, both cheeks, and finally, still ever so softly, on your lips.

you've both long since outgrown the butterflies in your stomachs. what used to elicit sparks of electricity at every touch now resound in echoes of warmth. and lying here, in jeonghan's embrace, in jeonghan's comfort, in jeonghan's life, you feel so safe. you'd spend eternity with jeonghan if you could, but right now, when the passage of time has all but stopped as you continue to hold each other in your own beautiful world, what you have right now is all you want.

—

you both wake up as you were, still entangled in each other's body, each other's affection, each other's hearts.

you let yourself drown in the serenity that was jeonghan before you ask the question that's been tickling the back of your mind the whole day. "what was up with you today? you were oddly kind, even more so than you usually are."

an instant flush of red rises upon jeonghan's cheeks, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think jeonghan was the sick one, not you. "this is gonna sound stupid," jeonghan says.

and to that, your first instinct is to reach for jeonghan's hand and intertwine your fingers, still perfectly warm under the blanket. "nothing you say is ever stupid." it's true. on a scale of endearing to adorable, never once have you thought jeonghan resembled anything close to the word stupid.

jeonghan bites his lip, as he confesses, "i hated seeing how miserable you were, and i wanted to cheer you up, but i forgot what your love language is, so i thought i'd do one of each to see which one you like the most, but you were equally receptive to all of them, and i feel dumb for not knowing what means the most to you."

when you don't immediately respond, jeonghan sighs and chides himself. "i told you, it's stupid."

but you just laugh, sporting a grin so wide your eyes turn into mini crescent moons. "yoon jeonghan, you're ridiculous in the best way possible." you unlace your finger in favor of cupping your palm around jeonghan's cheek, still blazing from embarrassment. "did you know that?"

jeonghan flits his gaze downwards, uncharacteristically shy towards the one person he's bared his entire soul to. "could you still remind me what your love language is?" he sheepishly requests, adding on, "just for future reference."

you just smile, and you hope your words are enough to convey the intensity of the way your whole body swells with an undeniable warmth every time jeonghan does anything. "as long as it's with you," you use your thumb to tilt jeonghan's head back up, ensuring he can see just how sincere you are when you say, "i love it all just the same." and then you lean in, breaths already mingling, lips centimeters from meeting, hearts seconds from colliding, when you whisper, "i love you all just the same."

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absideon-ephemeral · 1 year

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Dog Tags | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x (fem) reader

Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.

A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.

Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.

There was something about them.

Those fucking dog tags.

He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.

They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).

But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .

———————————————————————

It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.

For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.

It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.

And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.

So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.

Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.

There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.

The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.

“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.

Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.

“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”

You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.

Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.

But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.

His dog tags.

The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.

Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.

For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.

“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.

He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.

“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.

“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”

A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”

His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”

A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”

A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.

“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”

———————————————————————

And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.

So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barns x y/n #firsteveroneshot

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pasukiyo · 2 months

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LEECH.

| a collection of one-shots. collection masterlist.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is simply a work of fiction and is in no way, shape, or form claiming to be a reflection of how leon kennedy is canonically portrayed as a character. this is an au, meaning it is an alternate reality written for fun, so please heed this warning and keep it in mind while you read.

— to join the taglist, follow the link here and choose “leon kennedy” in the character list.

collection songbook

leon kennedy x fem!reader word count; 1,656 warnings; leon is a stalker, leon's also a bit of a loser!, themes of dark!leon, allusions to smut, mentions of oral (m & f receiving) summary; letting her go was easily the biggest mistake leon has ever made, and he's made more than he can count. so when he finds her again, he vows she’ll be the one thing he clings to, like a leech in skin.

Leon never had a place to call his own, but he did have a home, once.

Home was a girl, home was a medic who, by patching him up that first time in the training grounds, prompted a rumbling from deep within his belly for a hunger he’d never had before, making him yearn for something constant, something domestic, something normal.

Because Leon Kennedy’s life was far from it. Years of being in all the wrong places at all the wrong times made certain of that. There was nothing normal about him to begin with anyways, even before that shitshow of a first day on duty at R.P.D..

Although not many tried, many failed to truly understand Leon Kennedy. Before there was a top secret government agent, there was a cop and before there was a cop, there was a teenager and before there was a teenager there was just a child, mourning the loss of parents he never got the chance to really know.

But that was all just the surface-level shit.

Everyone, at least on a business standpoint, knew about Leon’s past, why he was so eager to be an officer in the first place. But no one gave a shit about the in between. Nobody really cared for who Leon Kennedy was at his core, beneath all the blood, sweat, gore, and tears.

Nobody did— except for her.

Leon’s home once looked at him with a tenderness so devastating, it was like its own cataclysmic event. Every time she looked at him with eyes so warm like a crackling fire in the hearth on a cold, winter night, eyebrows pinched and brow furrowed, it was like the Earth was collapsing around him. The world was caving in and Leon didn’t care because all he could see was her: listening to him, eager to know more, wanting to help him.

He could still see her eyes every night when he closed his and he could still hear her voice, her breathing, the little sounds she made in those moments they shared when they burned the brightest. His skin still buzzed where her lips once touched him, although each day that passed by, the burn her kiss left upon his flesh gradually faded, so faint now, he was holding on to cinders. Leon would toss and turn in whatever bed he ended up in every night, willing the memory of their last night together back to the forefront of his brain, clinging on to the dying embers left in her lips’ wake.

Her kiss felt fainter tonight than it ever had before.

The feeling was nearly painful.

Leon ripped the thin duvet off of his body, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress that was more like a box spring than anything. The motel room he’d ended up in after the last mission was small, the walls were yellow with grime, the curtains over the window thin and ripped, allowing the orange light from the lamppost outside to spill in. There were small, dark ovals on the floor in the corner that were surely cockroaches, but Leon didn’t spare them a second glance as he zipped up his jeans— he’d slept in far worse places than this.

He tugged on the sheepskin leather jacket that had since been draped over the top of the withering dresser, stepping into his boots and bending at the waist from the edge of the mattress to lace them up. The alarm on the nightstand read 4:00 in big, red numbers that blinked after him as he stuffed his room key into his pocket, slipping out the door.

The air was cold and fog rolled in the low-lit parking lot, curls of smoky air visible in the lamplight. Leon could see his breath in misty clouds with each step he took and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, disappearing into the fog.

She haunted his reverie as if she were a parasite, a sickness he couldn’t heal from. He still saw her the day she told him she was leaving, still felt the bile that bubbled in his throat, still saw the tears that fell in droplets of rain down her cheeks. He still felt the weight of the words he’d said, still remembered her shaking her head, could still hear her voice curling around his ears like a ghostly whisper, saying “you have to let me go.”

He watched her walk away, let her go as she asked then, and perhaps, Leon should’ve tried to move on. Perhaps he should’ve let her go as she had asked, should’ve pushed himself harder in training, pushed himself harder in his missions so that maybe he could have forgotten her.

But he was still right where she left him.

Ever since she left, he’d been stuck as if he were in a time loop, reliving the day he let her walk away from him over and over again like it was some form of punishment, his own personal hell. He’d spent damn near every second that passed after that day trying to claw his way back to her, hanging on tooth and nail. He had to ask through virtually the entire medical team until he finally, finally found her.

He told himself he wouldn’t do this, told himself he’d wait until the morning where he could show up at her door, properly knock and engage in conversation. He tried desperately to resist the ache he now yielded to.

The place was caught in between a shithole and adequacy. It was a hell of a lot better than a vast majority of the places Leon had slept, at least. His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he neared her door, Room 210. He fished for his pocket knife in the front pocket of his jeans, unsheathing the switchblade before glancing around the hall.

Empty.

He leaned down to the lock and slowly, as to not make any more noise than necessary, inserted the blade, inch by inch until the tip reached the end. He twisted the hilt until there was a click, steadily sliding the knife back out and switching it closed, tucking it safely away back in his pocket.

The knob was cool against his fingertips as he twisted it, carefully pushing open the door, grimacing when it squeaked. He stepped inside the dark apartment, the shadows embracing him as if he were an old friend. Once he’d managed to close the door, he crept his way through the apartment, between half unpacked moving boxes and furniture.

The walls were bare for the most part, save for a painting above the television in the living room. Leon couldn’t quite discern what it was in the darkness, but through the sliver in the door beside it, he could just make out the shape of a footboard.

His heart pounded against his chest as he inched towards the bedroom door, palms against the wood, cautiously pushing open just enough to allow his body to slither through.

And there she was.

Leon’s home was a woman buried beneath the covers, turned on her side with an arm folded beneath her pillow. Home was the woman deep in slumber, lashes flush to her cheeks, oblivious to the man standing at her bedside.

Leon drew in a deep breath as he kneeled beside her, his fingers just itching to wipe the loose strand of hair away from her face. It’d been so long since the last time he’d seen her in the flesh and he’d counted down those long, agonizing days that eventually led him to this moment. The days were long and hard but finally, he’d made his way back to her.

The lips that used to kiss his, that used to part when she gasped, that wrapped around his cock when his fingers were woven through her hair were now pressed together in a line. The chest he’d sometimes lay on at night, the chest he’d knead in either of his palms, the chest he’d leave his marks upon rose and fell with her every breath. He wondered if any of his marks still tainted her skin, or if the time they’d spent apart had been enough to fade them away.

The eyes that still haunted him, even in this moment, were closed but still, their hue was forever ingrained in his memory. Leon’s fingers twitched as he raised a hand towards her face, shivering as he brushed the backs of his knuckles delicately across her cheek, the pad of his thumb just barely soothing over one of her closed eyelids. He swiped the loose strand of hair away from his face gently, the tip of his forefinger delicately tracing the curve of her ear.

The skin he’d been craving and yearning to touch was warm, a stark contrast from the cool of his own. Memories of nights that had passed with his arms wrapped around her naked body, with her breasts against his chest, their legs intertwined flashed in his mind. Memories of his palms soothing up and down her waist, his hands between the soft flesh of her thighs, his lips against her center made his mouth part in a gasp.

How he longed to shake her awake, to look in her eyes, to feel her again. How he longed to tangle his fingers up in her hair and push her lips against his in a searing kiss that would forever scar him but feel so damn good all the while.

But he wouldn’t wake her, not now.

For tonight, he’d settle on the fact that he’d found her, that he could see her once again. Seeing her again set that old flame in the pit of his belly ablaze once more, fueling that craving he had for something constant, something domestic, something normal.

Normalcy was hard, his line of work made certain of that. Nobody normal had seen the amount of shit he had, nor had the amount of blood on his hands that tainted his. Normalcy was practically a myth, normalcy sounded more outrageous than the outrageous did to him.

Normalcy may have been out of reach before, yes, but now— now it felt closer than ever. If becoming a leech, a blood-sucking parasite with its teeth sunken deep into skin was what he had to do to achieve it, then so be it. He was so tired of letting everything he’d ever wanted slip out of his reach— so when he sunk down onto the floor with his back against the wall, gaze still fixed on the woman slumbering upon the bed, he vowed to let this be the one thing he cling to.

a/n; SO... SURPRISE! i got the idea for this while driving to work this past tuesday morning and couldn't stop thinking about it my entire shift lol i'm really excited to write more for this collection, so stay tuned for further one-shots! i just ask for your patience-- i'm a college student with a job! :) anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this little introduction to the collection :)

❕❕the next fic in the collection will be posted april 14th at 3 pm cst

💿 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the entire world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder @chaoticevilbakugo @luckypurins @glovesandhorror @xoxostarlet @illsksm @echo1200 @d3adp00ls @woahhajime @leonkennedygvrl

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x you #leon x y/n #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #pasukiyo's leech collection

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marvelfilth · 1 year

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Heaven in hiding (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: smut, bottom!Natasha, top! Reader, mention of human trafficking, typical red room stuff

Summary: when it's time for Natasha to go through the final training course you're the one she comes to.

Masterlist

You walk down the dark halls, concrete walls seemingly closing in on you with each step. Today is one of the bad days. Although one could argue that in a place like this all days are bad, you know better. Bad days are a norm, days like this make you want to dig up a hole in the ground and disappear in its depths.

Heavy footsteps following you down the hall promise to make the day even worse.

"Dreykova."

You stop and wait for the man to reach you. Surprisingly, the man isn't alone. You let your eyes wander for a second, taking in Natasha's slumped form. She hides it well from the guard beside her, but there's a slight shakiness to her breath that tells you she's in pain, and the way she favors her right leg makes you worry. You can't help but be proud of her though, even injured, she managed to keep her footsteps silent.

"Today she's assigned to you." He roughly pushes Natasha to you, and turns around without any other words.

You wait until he is out of sight before continuing your way to your room, not sparing another glance to the woman trailing behind you.

"Slower," she breathes out.

You hesitate for a second, but after a short look in her direction you slow down significantly, eyes darting to check for the cameras. You pull her to your side, taking most of her weight when you realize you're in a blind spot. "What happened?"

"Bucky," she hisses and it's all you need to know.

You two are the only ones to know the Winter Soldier by name, brief moments of sudden clarity in his butchered mind allowed you a glimpse into the man he once was. But no matter how bad you felt him, you were ready to shred the man limb by limb every time he hurt Natasha while training.

"I'll have a word with him." You squeeze her side and take a step forward, untangling yourself before rounding the corner. The cameras on the upper part of the wall blink red.

She sends you a look, barely keeping up with your stride. "Don't. He won't remember anything the next day and you'll just get in trouble." Her words are almost inaudible, but to your enhanced hearing they sound clear as day.

You barely manage to hold in a scoff, but don't refrain from rolling your eyes.

You'll get in trouble either way.

After rounding another corner you finally reach a deserted part of the building, right where your room is. Your eyes dart both ways and your ears strain to hear anyone approaching, thankfully, there's no one there.

With one last look down the hall you open the door to your room, holding it for Natasha to come through first. She does so very slowly, finally letting the pain she felt all this time show on her face. Your jaw clenches and you let go of the door, scooping Natasha up in your arms and letting it fall close behind you. You take a second to make sure it's locked before settling her on the bed.

"You didn't have to do that." She mutters, but there's a spark in her eyes that tells you she enjoyed it.

You chuckle and walk around the room collecting everything you might need to treat her injury, from ice to the chocolate bar you hid in your dresser, reserved for moments like this.

Her eyes widen at the sight of it and she doesn't pay attention to what you're doing with her ankle, happily chewing on her guilty pleasure. "Thank you." She manages to say between bites, just as you finish wrapping up her injury, putting the bag of ice on top.

"Anytime," you whisper, falling back against the bedsheets.

It's quiet, only interrupted by occasional crunch of the wrapper and Natasha's contented little sighs and your mind wanders to the plan the two of you formed in the past months.

The plan to get out.

It's easier said than done, to be honest it would be much easier to just jump off a clip, but you'd never let Natasha get hurt, so you're stuck with the harder option.

Bucky helps. You don't know how, but he's been gaining more and more consciousness with every passing week. The last time they wiped him was almost six months ago and you can't help but worry they'll do it again soon, causing your plan to crumble. The sight of Natasha's sprained ankle makes your worry increase tenfold.

You stew in your thoughts, failing to pay attention to the way the redhead slowly turns serious, a solemn expression on her face.

With a nudge to your side she has your full attention and you feel a sense of dread fill your stomach at the haunted look she sends you.

She takes a deep breath. "I saw Dreykov this morning." Her eyes are welled up with tears and suddenly you start to realize the reason why her mood changed so drastically. "It's time."

You sit up, gripping the fabric below you hard enough for it to tear. For a long moment you don't move, simply breathing in and out to try and calm your racing heart. You're overwhelmed by panic and you can't even imagine what Natasha feels like, so you push your feelings aside and turn to face her.

"I'll get you out before it happens." You manage to whisper before jumping to your feet, ready to put your plan in motion months earlier. She catches your arm before you take a step away, pulling you back on the bed.

"If we do this now we're both dead." She punctuates her words with another tug at your hand. Your eyes lock on hers and even though you know she's right you still shake your head, easily escaping the grip she has on you, ready to jump back on your feet. "Stop it," she huffs, and climbs on your lap, wincing in pain.

This time you comply, not wanting to hurt her even more. You lean back on your hands, giving her space.

"Then what do we do? Do you want me to kill them all?" You ask, looking away when a single tear trails down her cheek.

The sound that escapes her throat sounds more like a choke than a laugh. "Then we'll die even sooner."

Her arms circle your shoulders and suddenly she's pulling you snug against her, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around her waist instinctively, keeping her from falling over.

"I want to ask you something." Her lips brush against your heated skin. "Something very important."

Your grip on her tightens. "Anything."

She exhales against your collarbone, her eyelashes flutter against your skin while she works up the courage. You tense up, slightly worried about what it might be, but you know you'll agree to anything she says.

She pulls away, putting some distance between you, one of her hands trails up your body to cup your clenched jaw.

"They took everything from me. I can't let them take away this part of me too." Her voice is shaking and her lips tremble. Tears stream down her face freely now, overflowing her vision.

You nod, gears in your mind already turning to formulate another plan, one that would save her from being taken apart by some man.

You're the only woman in this facility allowed to forgo the teachings and only because you're not a Black Widow. If your father had his way, he would've turned you into one and eventually sold your body to some billionaire, but before he could even think about getting his hands on you, Madame B. already had serum running through your veins, making you a much more useful asset. You hate what she's done to you, knowing she did so with no good intent, but at the same time you're grateful she saved you from what Natasha is about to be faced with.

You don't dare ask who your father chose to teach her what he calls the art of seduction. You have a feeling it's Bucky.

Your brows knit in concentration as you struggle to remember tomorrow's patrol schedule, the plan of underground passages leading to the helicopter pad already burned on the back of your mind. The only missing piece is Bucky. You can't do this without his help.

"No." She cuts off your train of thought. You blink rapidly, confused. "That's not what I meant." She adds, closing her eyes. What she says next makes you choke on your breath.

"I want you to have it. I want you to have me," she whispers, her cheeks flaming red.

You sit there, stiff as a board, your mouth slacked and your heart galloping, as she licks her lips nervously, glancing away. Her arm tightens around your shoulder, nails diggings half moons on the burning skin below your training shirt. She patiently awaits your answer while you struggle to form a thought, your eyes fixated on her glistening lips.

"Y/n?" She breathes out. "I understand if you're uncomfortable. I just… I had to ask." Suddenly she's too small, folding in on herself, head falling down in shame and embarrassment and all you can do is stare.

Stare at the way her chest rises with each ragged breath she takes, stare at her flaming red hair, so pretty and soft even in the dim light of your room, stare at the way her green eyes seem brighter than they ever were before, shining with a flurry of emotions. You think you see a flicker of hope.

"Are you sure?" Your voice is hoarse and you clear your throat awkwardly.

There's a smile forming on her lips, a gentle pull at the corners of her mouth, so beautiful that it takes your breath away. "Yes. You're the only one I've ever wanted."

You nod, fixated one the way her smile widens, lighting up her face. "Okay."

Suddenly she's moving fast enough to make you dizzy, pushing against your lips with so much force it makes you tumble back on the bed, pulling her down with you. You kiss her back with just as much vigor, tugging at her bottom lip in a silent question. She gasps, allowing you to slide your tongue in the warmth of her mouth, meeting her tongue in a heated dance.

Her nimble fingers work through your clothes quickly, pulling them one by one in a span of seconds. You follow her lead, taking your time getting her naked, making sure to pay attention to each revealed patch of flawless pale skin, kissing and licking every inch.

You rise to your elbows and push her back on the bed, claiming the spot between her bent knees as you kiss down her stomach to the waistband of her pants. You make sure to be extra gentle in taking them off, paying attention to her swollen ankle. You exhale when you finally have her only in her underwear, patiently laying against your sheets, lips swollen, her hair a tangled mess.

"Are you sure?" You ask again, tracing circles on her hip bone, your other hand sneaking behind her back to rest on her bra clasp.

She barely manages to utter a quiet yes before she's pulling you down to claim your lips in a desperate kiss, her nails digging at the skin of your back when you finally take off her bra, palming her full breasts. She moans, arching her back into your touch, her head falling back against the pillow to reveal her throat. You pull away just for a moment, admiring her lean body, before diving back to leave marks on her throat, gently rolling the skin of her jugular between your teeth before sucking it in, your tongue leaping out to soothe the burn.

Her hand tangles in your hair in a desperate attempt to pull you down to her breasts and you comply, leaving a trail of hickeys in your wake.

The cry she lets out when you finally suck on her hardened nub is almost heavenly. She writhes below you, panting hard as you take your time playing with her peaks, alternating your mouth and fingers, twisting and biting, licking and tugging. Her legs are snug around your waist now, trying to relieve the tension with futile humps against your crotch.

You hum against her chest, rising just enough to make sure she heard you. "I'll give you whatever you want, pretty girl."

Her eyes squeeze shut. "I want everything, please. Everything."

You nod and hook your fingers on the waistband of her panties, tugging them down, watching in fascination how her wetness clings to the fabric. She makes a move to rub her thighs, but you beat her to it, palming her heated center, your fingers teasing her entrance. She cries out and clamps her thigh around your hand, restricting your movement.

You bend over her, holding your weight on one arm. "You have to spread your legs for me, baby." You cup her face, your thumb disappearing between her lips as she sucks it in eagerly.

Her legs spread wide open and you let out a sharp breath, sliding down her body. She's absolutely breathtaking, so wet and puffy, ready for you to take. You place a kiss on the inside of her thigh, then another one and another, your finger still teasing her entrance. She's shaking from tension, her knuckles white from how hard she's pressing her hails in the soft skin of her palms. Your movements are excruciatingly slow as you map the trail leading to her gushing center, sharply inhaling her sweet scent.

She whines and sneaks a hand down, fisting your hair, tugging you to where she needs you most. You go along with the movement, finally placing your lips on her swollen clit, gently pushing a single finger inside her at the same time. She lets out a loud cry, pressing you hard against her and begs you to continue, barely coherent in her words.

You hum in delight, thrusting in her slick pussy and lapping at her nub, sucking it in with each push of your finger, she moves her hips to meet you halfway, tugging at your hair. You try your luck and slowly push another finger in, paying extra attention to her pulsing bud of nerves. She welcomes you with a loud moan, throwing her good leg over your shoulder, her heel digging into your back.

"Harder, please," she whimpers. "I'm so close."

You chuckle against her, and curl your fingers inside her, thrusting against a spongy spot hard enough to make her legs shake. One last lick on her clit and she moans, her whole body tensing up, her grip on your hair ironclad, as she clenches around your fingers, her wetness coating your chin.

You ease out gently, placing gentle pecks to her folds, doing your best to clean her up, avoiding her sensitive bud. She tugs you up, eyes closed, and pulls you in a slow kiss, tasting herself on your lips.

Her eyes sparkle when you pull away, her lip trapped between her teeth. "More?" She asks shyly, trailing a finger down your jaw.

"More," you say, before pulling her in for another bruising kiss.

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow smut #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #natasha romanoff #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #heaven in hiding

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starshipsofstarlord · 8 months

Text

norman reedus // daryl dixon

divider credits. @cafekitsune

🥀 = smut (18+, minors dni)

🍄 = requested

daryl dixon

Sleepless

On the farm, you struggle to fall asleep due to all the things that you know that surround you, from the walkers in the barn to Shane. The only thing that can make you feel any comfort is Daryl (1.4k)

Prisoner 🥀

(Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Pretty Eyes

(Late season 2 based) throughout the outbreak, after meeting Daryl Dixon the two of you had always clashed heads. However when you reach the CDC, convinced you had been saved, you decide it’s time that you get along (1.4k) 🥀

you and daryl have reverted to your original positions, however your divide in getting along isn’t only affecting the two of you. it’s endangering the group, and so when needs must, you have to reconcile and make a truce (2.2k)

picking up where you left off isn’t always the easiest thing to proceed with, especially when you and daryl are still bickering. but there are ways to make amends 🥀

Throbbing 🥀

Daryl needs you, however you’re out on a run, so he has no other cure other than to take care of himself (0.8k)

Using You 🥀

you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Bemused

daryl becomes bemused by y/n and her affections towards him. also the story of how daryl ‘found’ his vest (0.6k)

How to Weaken a Man 🥀

you were going to get what you wanted, Daryl however was going to have to wait. He was deserving of a taste of his own medicine, after him constantly being in charge, it was time for a change (3.3k)

Cuddle Bunny

all you can do is reflect on the past as you sit by a tired and bedridden daryl, hellbent on not leaving his side. It seems he doesn’t want you to leave either, as you are the only person that sees him for who he is, in every light (1.3k)

Nexus to the Next Life

the cdc was supposed to be the start of continuing life, however after jenner has revealed that the haven of which you had travelled to is going to self destruct, you endure a battle with yourself. to stay and die quickly, or leave and possibly die slowly (1.2k)

Not Yet Corpses. Still, We Rot 🥀🍄

you were surviving after the prison fell, whilst you felt lost deep inside of yourself. without daryl, and the others that you had lost and yet to find, everything only seemed to get worse. and all was proven when the claimers interrupted your futile attempts of avoiding nightmares

Lap Girl

a series of unchronological scenarios of y/n being in daryl’s lap within part of their journey (part 1 - the first night in alexandria)

daryl needs comfort at the greene farm after he fails to find sophia again. luckily his girl is willing to give him exactly what he needs; her in his lap

there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵 🥀

daryl is in mourning for his brother merle, overcome with grief and guilt. all he needs is to lay on his girls lap and receive her affection

y/n and daryl are seated on the couch in their home, however there’s only one problem; he’s in her spot. he’s happy enough to move so that she can be comfortable, but his girl has a better idea

Locked Away 🥀🍄

whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

Honey suckle 🥀

daryl gets lost in eating his favourite meal between your legs

in sickness and in health 🍄

daryl is distant, more so than usual, and so you force yourself into his personal bubble, wanting to make sure that he is okay since he is the only reminder of your old life before the outbreak

prompts and drabbles and headcanons

“I don’ have the patience ter remove yer clothes righ now.” 🥀

daryl returns from a hunt, but he doesn’t care for what he caught; he’d rather catch you beneath him (0.8k)

“thought you were mad at me.” “it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

nsfw alphabet 🥀

daryl pre-apocalypse dating headcanons

sub!daryl headcanons 🥀

what it would be like to have a subby daryl at your hands 🥵😭

daryl + tit fucking drabble 🥀

daryl + doggy style 🥀

cuddling headcanons

daryl + mouth spitting 🥀

young!daryl dixon

surrogate comfort 🥀

daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

norman reedus

Got a Light?

Norman goes to a bar after a long day on set, and he’s unexpectedly approached by a ‘stranger’ (1k)

Normal Morning with Norman

inspired by this prompt - early morning kiss - a kiss that’s a wake up call, it’s barely even a lips touching, more like they’re kissing your chin because they’re so tired in the early morning haze (0.5k)

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weemssapphic · 5 months

Note

Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk.

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door.

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle.

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze.

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea.

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it.

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?”

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands.

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move.

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back.

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment.

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over.

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :)

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :)

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;) Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips…

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her.

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh.

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink.

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously.

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own.

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking.

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off.

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs.

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go.

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you’ - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either.

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

Thud.

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table.

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers.

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last.

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#miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #top of the lake: china girl #i haven't posted in almost 2.5 months and i'm ANXIOUS #hype a girl up 😭#i also clearly couldn't be arsed to come up with a better title i'm SORRY 🥲

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7amaspayrollmanager · 5 months

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Dear compassionate souls,

I am Raghad, reaching out to you from the heart of Gaza, a place that has become synonymous with resilience and strength in the face of unimaginable challenges. Our story is one of survival, loss, and an urgent plea for help.

For the past weeks, my family of 14 and I have been living in the shadows of fear and uncertainty as Gaza endures relentless and devastating bombardment. The once vibrant streets are now filled with echoes of pain, and our homes have become the frontline of a conflict that claims the lives of our family members, friends, and colleagues daily.

On October 7, our lives were shattered. The IDF called us to evacuate our homes in the Gaza Strip. In a desperate bid for survival, we packed what little belongings we had left and evacuated to another place, hoping against hope that the worst was over. Little did we know that this was only the beginning.

At the moment of the evacuation, our tears were running down, we said goodbye to the rooms of the house and every corner of it, crying looking at the house where I spent 22 years of my life, my father asked us to take pictures of the memory of our house from inside and outside because it may be our last time. We left and there's no news about our house yet. Was it completely destroyed? Is it still there? Nobody knows.

Now, as the situation escalates, we find ourselves facing an unthinkable choice: evacuate for the second time or risk becoming casualties of aggression. Each evacuation brings us face to face with the harsh reality that we might not survive the next bombing.

We suffer from hunger, fear and lack of medical and health capabilities. We have no access to electricity and the internet since the beginning of the Israeli aggression, not to mention the challenges we face as women in these circumstances.

We haven't drank in more than 60 days a clean drop of water and it gets worse with winter coming.

This is where we turn to you, our global community, with a plea for help and a glimmer of hope. We are initiating a GoFundMe campaign to raise funds that will allow us to leave the heart-wrenching aggression that has destroyed Gaza. Our goal is to secure the means to relocate to a safer place, far from the immediate dangers that surround us.

Your support means more than just financial assistance; it signifies solidarity, compassion, and a shared commitment to preserving human lives. Together, we can make a difference and offer my family a chance to rebuild our lives and our dreams

Every donation, no matter the size, will contribute to our journey to safety. Share our story, amplify our plea, and stand with us as we navigate through the darkest days of our lives.

Thank you for being a beacon of hope in our darkest hour.

With gratitude,

Raghad and the entire family from Gaza

*This gofundme is run by the Zanaid family, Raghad's cousins and aunt based in the United States. Your help means everything to us, this is our family, and any donations contribute towards this immense cost (keep in mind they are asking 5-7k per person to leave Gaza as of right now). This is our family, this is our world.

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lionlena · 3 months

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Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 11

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart… She runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58), strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v, dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness, misunderstanding, breakdown

I'm sorry you had to wait for this new chapter for so long. I hope I will write 11 much faster ;) Sorry, I tried 🥺

Part 11

You woke up and felt the cold take over your body. You wrinkled your nose. You were sure Joel had stoked the furnace before you went to bed, but you were too sleepy to worry about that now. You wanted to spend a few more minutes to sleep, so you snuggled into Joel's warm body, hugging his back. You heard him purr softly in contentment. Then you pressed your icy nose into the back of his neck and heard a hiss.

"Brat…" he croaked sleepily and you giggled.

"It's cold," you replied innocently.

You were about to ask him if he had actually put more wood into the furnace when your son ran into your bedroom happily shouting:

"Snow! Snow! There's snow everywhere! Lots of…"

Then you understood everything, it snowed overnight, and winter in Jackson had begun in earnest. You sighed with dissatisfaction and closed your eyes, burying your face in Joel's warm back. For your son, snow meant fun, and for you, it meant more work. You knew you'd have to go to the stables earlier to make sure there wasn't too much snow on the roof and that the horses were well secured.

Teddy jumped on your bed and started laughing happily. Joel pulled him to his chest and ruffled his hair.

"You say it's snowing, bear cub… Will you turn into a polar bear now?"

The little boy squealed happily.

"Yes… Shall we build a snowman, Daddy?"

Even though you weren't happy with the snow and cold, you couldn't help but smile widely. Joel and Teddy's interaction was always so sweet and adorable. And you knew Joel's chest would swell every time he heard the word "daddy."

"Sure! We'll build ten snowmen! But first… We'll eat breakfast and put you into something warm clothes."

Teddy was so happy he didn't even protest.

"I'll wake up Ellie and tell her it's snowing!"

Before you could react, the boy had already run to his adoptive, older sister. Joel chuckled to himself. He was sure that the teenage girl wouldn't be happy with this wake-up call, but at the same time, she would succumb to Teddy's charm and agree to build a snowman with him.

You sighed and hugged Joel even tighter, sliding your hands under his shirt. You felt his body react to your touches and heard his muffled growl. He grabbed your hands gently and moaned:

"Don't tease… Please…"

You felt remorse. You knew that sometimes your touch was unbearable for him. It wasn't that he didn't like the closeness. You just didn't realize sometimes how arousing your innocent caresses were. And at the same time, they were torture because they never led to anything more.

You removed your hands and sighed softly.

"Sorry."

Joel immediately turned to you. He pulled you to his chest and kissed your forehead. You could feel his bulge in his pants and it made you feel even worse.

"I'm sorry…" You said again, almost crying this time.

Joel immediately started caressing your face.

"Hey, hey… We talked about it. Don't apologize. I'm a big boy and… I can handle it."

You sighed and nodded. You didn't want to know the details of how Joel dealt with it. Although you had some idea.

"It's just that sometimes… I wish it were different…" you said with obvious disappointment in your voice.

Joel looked at you gently and kissed your nose.

"But it is what it is, and I love you no matter what."

His words filled you with warmth and you couldn't help but smile a little. You wanted that moment to last forever. The two of you in a warm bed, in your own little bubble of comfort.

"Joel! Your son is hungry and it is your responsibility to feed him and me!"

You both laughed as you heard Ellie scream from the hall. Joel rolled his eyes and you sighed. The peace is over. You groaned and got out of the warm blanket.

"I have to go to the stables early."

Joel nodded and handed you your warm sweater while he started putting on his jeans.

"I'll take care of everything. I don't start patrol until the evening."

You felt a slight twinge in your heart. You didn't like it when Joel had evening patrols. This meant he would come back late at night and you would have to fall asleep without his warmth. This day couldn't get any worse… . After three hours of work at the stables, you decided to go home for lunch and check how your boys were doing. But the closer you got to home, the faster your heart started beating and your brain began to go crazy. Joel stood and watched Teddy play with Rose, and next to him stood Emily, Tess's doppelgänger. You felt how your body instantly heated up and felt dizzy. And Joel seemed so… Happy?

The closer you got, the slower you walked, as if your feet were sinking into the ground. Your son saw you first. He smiled widely and waved at you.

"Hello, Mommy!"

Joel and Emily immediately turned around and you forced a smile and waved back to your little boy. Your baby boy didn't deserve your sour face. However, you couldn't be so relaxed when you stood in front of THIS woman. You murmured a greeting and really tried your hardest not to explode. It was so baseless, but… Emily was taller than you, more graceful, and… That damn face of young Tess.

"Are you having fun?"

Joel raised his eyebrows as if he didn't fully understand your question, so you added:

"With kids…"

Emily didn't seem to sense your baseless hatred because she smiled broadly and said,

"Oh yes, the kids are so happy and Joel builds great snowmen."

You wanted to imitate her: Oh, Joel builds great snowmen… But you bit your tongue.

"He was a builder after all."

God, You felt like the situation was getting more and more awkward by the second. You couldn't have given a better answer. Joel decided to save you because he chuckled softly and wrapped his arm around you.

"Finally, my skills from my previous life are useful for something."

You felt a little better when Joel showed you affection in front of 'Tess', but her next words ruined everything.

"Do you work in the stable?"

"Huh?"

"You have straw on your clothes."

You felt your blood boil. You wanted to strangle her. Maybe her words weren't meant to be malicious.

"Yes…" You muttered, then quickly added. "I just came for a short break. I'll eat something and go back to the horses. Have fun."

You walked away from them and had a hard time keeping yourself from slamming the door.

"You have straw on your clothes…" You said mockingly as you entered the kitchen.

Who was she to tell you that? At least your dirty clothes were proof that you worked, and what was she doing besides praising Joel's snowman-building skills?

"Ugh!"

You threw your jacket on the chair and opened the fridge, even though you had actually lost your appetite. You were about to stand in front of the living room window to watch Joel and Emily when he came back. He immediately gave you a worried look. He took off his jacket, hung it on the door, and walked over to you.

"It's okay, you seem kind of… Annoyed."

You nodded quickly and tried to swallow the bitterness you felt in your throat.

"Where's Teddy?"

"He went with Rose for a while… I'll pick him up in half an hour."

You couldn't help but groan in frustration, and with Joel's questioning look you replied:

"I don't like her. I mean, Emily… Not, Rose."

Joel seemed surprised by your answer.

"Why?"

"She said my clothes were dirty."

He couldn't help but giggle softly, but seeing your glare, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Babe, I think you misunderstood her. Emily is new here and she's curious. She noticed the straw, so… She wanted to confirm her suspicions."

You huffed, still feeling frustrated. Joel began to rock your hips, something he had learned to do when you were pouting. And you had to admit it always worked. Then he kissed your forehead and said in a calm, tender voice:

"I think you're tired. What if we do this? After I pick up Teddy, I'll go with him to the stables and help you with your work…"

You leaned against his strong chest and inhaled his scent. His offer was so tempting. Not to mention you'd be keeping an eye on him then.

"But you have your own duties… And patrol…"

Joel smiled to himself. He knew he already had you.

"It's okay. I can handle everything."

Of course, you felt a little guilty, but the feeling of happiness and contentment prevailed. . But nothing changed the fact that you felt uneasy every time you saw Emily close to Joel. It was like an icy spike was sticking into your stomach. You were afraid. Sometimes you tried to think logically. Joel loved you and did a lot to be with you again. You wanted to believe that he wouldn't break your heart again. But sometimes your obsession won.

And it wasn't like you didn't have the basics. Teddy really liked Rose, so your neighbor had plenty of opportunities to smile at Joel. In addition, Emily and Joel became patrol partners. When you found out about it, you thought you were going crazy, and you even tried to convince Joel that it shouldn't be like this.

"I can go on patrols with you," you said one night as you were going to bed.

"What?" Joel gasped.

"I thought I could go on patrols with you… I've had less work with horses lately and…"

"NO!" Joel interrupted you harshly, and upon seeing your hurt expression, he immediately grabbed your hands. "Honey… What about Teddy? If we're both on patrol, he'll must be under someone's care… Besides… If something happened to you…"

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

"Something can happen to anyone. Emily also has a small child and she goes on patrol."

Joel sighed heavily.

"But Rose, she's not my baby… And although I wouldn't want Rose to lose her mother, my worry for Emily is incomparable to what I would feel if I had you next to me."

You felt like you had already lost. You were obsessed with 'Tess' and he had valid arguments, but you kept going anyway.

"It wouldn't be so bad… I can handle it… I've been coping on my own for so many years."

Joel looked at you with a small smile. He brushed the hair away from your forehead.

"Honey, don't be offended, but last week you were screaming because you found a dead rat in the basement."

You pouted and looked offended. It wasn't fair.

"It surprised me!"

Joel couldn't help but chuckle.

"A dead rat? How could it surprise you if it wasn't moving? Did it speak to you from the afterlife?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your tongue out at him.

"And yet it surprised me."

Joel shook his head, placed his hands on your hips, and started rocking them. God! You hated him for it. On top of that, his voice became so soft that it wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

"Will you tell me what's really going on? Because I can't believe you suddenly want to freeze your ass off on patrol."

He hit the spot. But you couldn't tell him the truth, certainly not the whole truth.

"I… I just wish I could spend more time with you."

Joel cooed and pulled you to his chest. Then he kissed your head.

"Hey, you know, I'll talk to Tommy. In the spring, I can help build and repair houses. Then I'd be closer and I'd always be home before sunset. What do you think?"

You couldn't deny that you felt a surge of peace. His words and gestures made your anxiety melt away for a moment. You smiled and nodded.

"Sounds good."

Joel hugged you even tighter as if to assure you of his love.

"Then hold on for two more months." . Hold on… Don't go crazy. It was easier said than done. You didn't know if you were oversensitive or if Joel and Emily had really gotten closer… Standing by the window in the living room suddenly became your new passion. Whenever Joel went out on patrol, or simply left the house, you immediately stood by the window and watched to see if he had met Emily. You watched closely how they greeted each other. How far apart were they? What Emily looked like. Is she more, or less like Tess, today?

It became your obsession. You didn't even try to get to know Emily better. You immediately attributed all of Tess's traits to her: conceited, mean, resentful of you, and possessive of Joel. You felt like you moved to Boston.

"Y/N."

You jumped when you heard Ellie's voice. You almost forgot that the teenage girl was still at home.

"Hmm?"

"You're standing at the window again… It's about Emily."

You sighed heavily and nodded. Then you looked at the couch where the teenager's sweatshirt lay, the sweatshirt you were supposed to fix. You gave Ellie an apologetic look.

"I know what you're going to say, that I'm obsessed… And I guess you're right. I'm about to take care of the hole in your sweatshirt."

Ellie bit her lip and looked at you with a look you knew well. Something was bothering her.

"It's not about the sweatshirt, is it?"

The girl shook her head.

"The thing is… I don't want to say something that might ruin everything ."

You walked closer to her and looked at her carefully.

"Ellie, you better tell me. If you think something is wrong, then… It's better to face the truth because it can only get worse."

The teen nodded and you were honestly expecting some sort of teenage problem, but her next words shook you.

"I thought you were obsessed with this Emily because she looks like Tess… But yesterday… Yesterday I saw Joel and her walk into the bar and I heard her say, 'I can't believe I agreed to this date, it's crazy'…" Seeing the look on your face, she quickly added. "But maybe… I guess it's nothing, you know… Y/N… I don't want you to fight with Joel, but… I thought I should tell you…"

You took a deep breath and nodded. You didn't want to fall apart right in front of her. You didn't want her to feel worse. You understood her. She was like a child who wanted to remain loyal to each of her parents, but at the same time had to choose a side.

"It's good that you told me… I'll talk to Joel… Take it easy. I'll find out what it was about…"

Ellie didn't seem entirely convinced, but she nodded and you smiled softly at her.

"Don't worry…"

"Can I do something?" she asked.

"If you could pick up Teddy from the common room and leave him with Claudia before going to Dina…"

Ellie nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. You didn't want any of the children to witness your confrontation with Joel. . When you were left alone, you began to pace anxiously around the house. You knew there were about two hours, until Joel returned and that in those two hours you would go crazy with all your thoughts.

First, you tried to control yourself and rationalize everything. You had a plan that when Joel showed up, you would just ask him about the situation and that would be it. But with each passing minute, your anxiety began to deepen and all sorts of thoughts filled your head.

You even got to the point where you started blaming yourself. It was finally clear what Joel was missing. It wasn't a secret.

And the truth was, part of you wanted to have sex with Joel. You wanted to get him into bed. Explore his body, feel him inside you, but… You were afraid that sex would awaken the old animal in him. Sometimes You looked at him from the side. You saw how gentle he was with Teddy and Ellie. You felt how gentle he was with you. But what if it all disappeared the moment he saw you naked and defenseless? When he feels he has power again. What if he decides you're not good enough and abandons you in the morning like he used to? You knew it was impossible. He wouldn't do it for his son's sake. And yet these thoughts haunted you. It was easier with Steve. He was a blank page, and the first time you had sex with him, he gave you full power. He knelt in front of you and begged for permission to touch you. Steve just liked it, being obedient. He didn't even cum without your consent. You didn't know if it was just his fetish and he was like that with all women. Or was he just doing it for you? But it worked. Steve was the only man after Joel you had sex with. Of course, you tried dating others a few times, but it ended the moment they touched you. It just seemed like Steve was the exception.

And now you had Joel again, and Joel was a man and he had needs. Your mind started going crazy. Maybe he didn't even like Emily, but she was willing to give him what you couldn't? Maybe he made some sort of deal with her… Something like: friends with benefits. You even started to have absurd thoughts that maybe you should let Joel do this. Before you knew it, you were so absorbed in your own misery that you were curled up on your bed, crying. Suddenly you felt the bed sag under the weight and someone's large, warm hand landed on your side.

"Y/N… Baby, what's wrong?"

Joel's voice was clearly concerned, close to panic. You turned around abruptly and simply blurted out:

"It's about sex?! Right?! You don't feel anything for her, but you can fuck her!"

Your voice cracked and Joel looked like someone had thrown him into ice water. He wanted to shout: 'What the hell?!' But he knew better that he must stay completely calm. He had no idea what had happened to you, but you were clearly in a bad emotional state and having a breakdown. He took a deep breath and replied:

"Baby, I have no idea who you're talking about. Who would I be having sex with?"

"With Emily!" You growled.

Joel moved away from you as if you had hit him. Of course, you were in such a state that you considered his reaction as confirmation of your theory.

"So I'm right!"

Joel couldn't stand it anymore and his scream was like thunder.

"NO!"

You started to tremble and he felt remorse, but at least he had a moment to speak to you.

"No, honey…" His voice was calm again. "You're absolutely wrong. I don't know what happened or what made you think that, but I only love you."

Joel tried to pull you into a hug, but you pulled away from him and sobbed.

"So what… that you love me… But… But you can't have sex with me, so you found someone else to do it… It doesn't take love for that…"

Joel couldn't stand your tears and despite your protests, he pulled you closer to him and wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

"Y/N we talked about it and my mind hasn't changed… I understand you and I respect your decision. And I want to be with you for the rest of my life, even if it means no sex. And I will have sex either with you or with nobody."

His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and you took a shaky breath. You were still in despair, but you wanted to believe his words.

"And Emily?"

Joel raised his eyebrows and looked surprised.

"What about her? I don't have any intimate relationship with her if that's what you're asking."

"But… Apparently, you went to a bar with her, and she… And she said something about going on a date…"

Joel chuckled softly and grunted.

"Okay. I won't ask who your spy was, but… Yes, it's true. I went to a bar with Emily and talked to her about a date… In fact, I even asked her out on a date, but not with me… with Claudia…"

"What?!"

These revelations were so shocking to you that you couldn't find the words.

"But… but… Claudia… Emily…"

Joel gave you a funny look.

"You don't mean to tell me you didn't know your best friend was a lesbian."

You rolled your eyes. Of course, you always knew that.

"I mean Emily… She has a baby and… She got along with you so well and…"

You felt completely lost. On one hand, a wave of relief washed over you that everything was just your imagination. On the other hand, you felt ashamed that you fell apart and let your emotions get the better of you.

But Joel, as usual, tried to be understanding. He smiled as he saw that the crisis was over. He kissed you on the cheek and replied:

"You know very well that a child doesn't always have to be the result of love… I don't know who Rose's father is and I don't want to push Emily… And yes, we get along, but I don't feel anything for her and when she told me that she likes Claudia, but she's very ashamed and afraid that nothing will come out of it, I wanted to help her."

Finally, all your anxiety left you. Joel simply had a good heart, even though he sometimes hid it behind grumpiness and whining.

"Sorry."

He shook his head and waved his hand.

"I'm glad we cleared it up. And tomorrow you'll be able to talk to Claudia about it, because today, after two weeks of my efforts, is their first date."

When you heard this, your eyes widened.

"Oops…"

"What?"

You immediately got out of bed and started dressing. Joel watched you in shock, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"I told Ellie to drop Teddy to Claudia."

Joel immediately jumped off the bed and grabbed your hand.

"Come on, before you ruin my entire elaborate plan!" He groaned miserably and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Aren't you getting into the role of Cupid too much?"

He made another grumpy noise and you smiled widely. This was your Joel. And only yours. .

Taglist: @casa-boiardi @noisynightmarepoetry @ihavetwoholesforareason @sloanexx @creedslove @orcasoul @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @i-workwithpens @milla-frenchy @liatome @jojo-munson @pascalislove @goldenhxurs @elliaze @aestheticangel612 @cheyxfu @prestinalove @stevengmybeloved @faith-alons26 @harriedandharassed @this--is--music @joeldjarin @elliaze @ajeff855 @anislabonis-love @quality-lust @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @misshoneypaper @simplyreading96 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @softstarlite @missladym1981 @heartpascalispunk

Part 10

Part 12

Ok, so I hope it's not that bad after not writing this story for so long. I know Emily turned out to be quite a twist plot. But I couldn't make Joel an asshole again.

Now an important announcement. So far this story has been devoid of any strong NSFW elements, apart from the beginning. So now I would like you to take the survey and decide. Should there be a description of the sex scene in the next chapter, or would you prefer it to be an addition to a chapter that you don't have to read?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel and you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel and ellie #joel is daddy #angst #hurt/comfort #love story #unforgivable mistake

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babyleostuff · 10 months

Note

Hi lovely I was reading your works and it's so good, serious genuinely everything is perfect I'm addicted💗I wanna request only if you have time obviously, a Jeonghan as your boyfriend pretty please💗 Thanks

thank you some much for your request love! hope you enjoy this and have a great day <3

JEONGHAN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

genre | a lot of fluff

author’s note | if you want me to do this with any other member, let me know <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he is always so so gentle with you

𓆩♡𓆪 in his eyes, you’re the most precious thing in the world

𓆩♡𓆪 he loves to baby you and dote on you, because you’re so adorable to him

𓆩♡𓆪 he adores being domestic with you - doing the dishes, the laundry, cleaning your apartment and watching movies/ dramas when eating late dinner after work

𓆩♡𓆪 it brings him so much peace and inner comfort, especially after a busy day with schedules or when he comes home from tour

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re like his little battery charger, he swears he gaines back his energy when he’s with you

𓆩♡𓆪 a sucker for holding hands and quiet forms of affection (even if only your pinkies are linked, it’s enough for him)

𓆩♡𓆪 as long as you’re next to him, everything is alright

𓆩♡𓆪 hugs and cuddling are a big part of your relationship as well

𓆩♡𓆪 after being away from you, he craves your touch and it’s almost as if it has some healing properties

𓆩♡𓆪 but in reality the hugs and cuddling are so great, because of how much you love each other

𓆩♡𓆪 and it’s your silent way of taking care of each other

𓆩♡𓆪 he always makes sure you know that you can count on him, no matter how busy he is - you’re his number one priority

𓆩♡𓆪 when you’re sick or feeling unwell he is always there for you, ready to become a certificated nurse

𓆩♡𓆪 even when you tell him to leave you alone, as not to get him sick as well, he never leaves your side

𓆩♡𓆪 and if he has to because of work, he always checks up on you, making you promise that you’ll text him if you get worse

𓆩♡𓆪 he just feels so bummed seeing you feeling bad and it always brings his mood down, so he wants you to get healthy as soon as possible

𓆩♡𓆪 going on late night walks are your favourite

𓆩♡𓆪 the town is a lot more quiet than during the day and it brings a sense of comfort to both of you

𓆩♡𓆪 you don’t even need to talk much, you just walk around the neighbourhood holding hands and appreciating each others company

𓆩♡𓆪 your whole relationship basically feels like a safety blanket, that you can hide under

𓆩♡𓆪 he makes you feel safe and loved 24/7

𓆩♡𓆪 if you ever point out a flaw in you or get insecure (which you should not, because you’re BEAUTIFUL) he just goes: “YAH 😒” and kisses you all over your face, telling you how beautiful and amazing you are

𓆩♡𓆪 he does NOT let you feel bad about yourself, not even once

𓆩♡𓆪 he teaches you his mastery of cheating, that you can use during game nights with the rest of the boys

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re the unbeatable couple and even with the rest of the boys knowing that you’re probably cheating, they do nothing to stop you

𓆩♡𓆪 they know that there is no point in doing so (because you’re going to find another way to cheat their asses)

𓆩♡𓆪 loves seeing you in his clothes, it makes him go 🥰 🥰 🥰

𓆩♡𓆪 especially during autumn and winter, you’re just so cuddly and huggable that he cannot resist you and hugs you at least every 15 minutes

𓆩♡𓆪 which makes you go 🙄, but it’s okay because he’s pretty and you cannot resist him either

𓆩♡𓆪 he also becomes quite sulky and pouty if you don’t pay enough attention to him

𓆩♡𓆪 like: hello, your boyfriend is in need of some extra attention (and some kisses too)

𓆩♡𓆪 despite his loving and caring nature, he teases you a lot

𓆩♡𓆪 brings up random embarrassing situations from your past and laughs about it, making you go 😐

𓆩♡𓆪 but he never crosses the line with the jokes and never makes you feel bad about yourself, it’s all just for fun and games

𓆩♡𓆪 is committed to being the little spoon in your relationship and is not afraid of admitting it

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re just so comfy and he feels so safe in your arms

𓆩♡𓆪 but just one word from you and he becomes the big spoon

𓆩♡𓆪 anything for his baby

𓆩♡𓆪 even if he’s not the most adventurous person on the planet, you’re never bored with him

𓆩♡𓆪 every second spent together is precious to you and you cherish it dearly

your messages <3

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beforeimdeceased · 4 months

Text

A GIRL IS MISSING: SMALL TOWN, BIG PROBLEMS 🪰🔎🚬

synopsis: what happens when a young girl goes missing and you volunteer yourself to help find her?

a/n: this is like…i’m trying something new okay! let me know if you want a part 2 i hope you like my experimental mystery/thriller. please give feedback it’s highly appreciated! 🙏🏽

masterlist

everyone had gathered at the church on joneston, down the road from the chicken shack. you can’t miss it. everyone had been gathering there for days in the sharp cold of the winter. runny noses and swollen eyes. some crying, some from lack of sleep.

a young girl was missing. that was the headline of the town newspaper for the past 48 hours. missing poster plastered on the front. sweetest smile you’d ever seen.

dina woodward was witty, quick on her feet and excelled in all her classes. graduated from high school and went on to work at the local bakery for her gap year. just saving up for a car. she was in plays, never missed a festival, and lit up every room she walked into. that’s what everybody said. that’s what you wished you could say.

the truth is, you didn’t know her very well. you’d gone to elementary school together but she was bit off and hung out with a different crowd. all the way up till senior year. her friends were the ones with the tear swollen eyes.

ellie williams, her neighbor and girlfriend, had chosen the picture for the missing poster. you talked to her once and the conversation went like, “hey, do you know what time it is?” “2:30.” “thanks.” lined lips, freckled face, smelled like car oil and the cigarettes she pretended not to smoke in the stairwell.

abby anderson, her enemy turned friend, couldn’t even look up. her face was in her hands as she hid her wails. they had gotten into a fight about some miscommunication during lunch one day. threw the whole middle school into a ruckus. team dina and team abby. the brunch moms talked about it on weekends, you’d heard them while you sat off to the side as your mom waited tables. drunk ladies blabbering on about who should apologize first. they ended up settling it after a game of volleyball. real dramatic handshake. some people clapped.

jesse, last name unknown due to you never being awarded the chance of knowing it, was her ex boyfriend and right hand. as an outsider you predicted that it would’ve been messy. the way they’d broken up and she was seen slipping off into dark corners with ellie a few weeks after, but there was no war. no bloodshed. only whispers of drama from bored admirers and jealous bitches.

your eyes were sunken on account of your lack of sleep. days at the post office, mixed with nights at the police station, molded with mornings in the church for the search party meeting was a recipe for disaster on your sleep schedule. not that you could sleep anyway, too busy dreaming about finding her dead in a ditch somewhere. waking up sweating like a whore in church-

“alrighty! thank you all for coming again today. looks like the crowd is a bit smaller than it was yesterday, but let’s not fret. we’re all going to work together to find her.” maria, leader of the search party, wavers her gaze to the three close friends of dina. face falling into a sympathetic gaze. “we’re going to find her.”

that second sentence sounded far less convincing than the first one. you knew, and they knew, that with this shit weather there was no way she could have disappeared for a week and survived out there on her own. she could’ve been kidnapped, oh god that’s worse. let’s stop thinking.

since the crowd had gotten smaller, the groups maria had configured were forced to shrink. too many lone soldiers and people without partners. she had to start being strategic. playing on the strengths of each individual, hoping they’d all make well rounded teams. then she pointed her finger at you, then at the blonde, then at lips in a line, then at sweet jesse and she smiled in your face.

“and you guys will be team 4.”

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last-herondale · 1 year

Text

“Wintered”

Jacob Black x Fem-reader

Soulmates

Fluff, slight NSFW, mostly fluff 😊

A/N: This is similar to my previous Jacob x reader post. My head cannon is where the reader is part of the pack and imprints on Jacob, but he doesn’t immediately imprint on her back. Anyway, this scene takes place before the confrontation with the Voltori in BD pt 2. Jacob has finally imprinted on Y/N after you have a near death experience. (I refuse to accept the storyline of Jacob imprinting on Ratatouille 🤢) and the two of you station yourself out in the clearing to scout the area before the rest of the Cullens and wolves arrive. A blizzard comes in and forces the two of you to make camp within the woods. This allows for some fluffy conversations to occur. 😉

Might make a NSFW scene as a part 2 to this story. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Jacob Black has my heart so expect one 😉

Edit: I did make part 2 😬 here’s a link. Okay byeee

Part 2

Enjoy 🤘🏼

You had been careful. Maybe too careful these past few weeks after the birth of Bella’s daughter. It had been a chaotic period of your life. You had chosen to break apart from the pack in order to follow Jacob. Your new Alpha. Your imprint. Your soulmate. Even from the beginning it was never really a choice, but still, you were proud of his decision to leave.

He was fighting to save Bella, as he always did. And even though it broke your heart to see the man you loved more than anything in the world fight so hard for someone who would never love him like he deserved, you stood by his side through it all. Even when the fight became deadly.

It had been a risky plan. But the Cullens needed to feed. Distract the pack. Protect the Cullens. That was the plan that fateful night. But it turned sour real quick. Bella had gone into labor, and Sam’s pack had launched an attack on the remaining Cullens. Paul had the small vampire, Alice, in between his giant wolf mouth. She had been weak and hungry, and even her immortal strength began to give way. You couldn’t let her die. Despite knowing Paul’s size and strength over powered you every time you trained with the pack, you didn’t care.

You had launched yourself at Paul, your claws and teeth slashing at his neck, forcing him to release Alice, allowing her to escape. Paul was enraged with you then. You could feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest as he set his sights on you and pounced.

“Y/N!” Jacob’s voice called, snapping you out of the memory.

The wind was whipping all around you. Flurries of snow bit at your face and clung in your hair. The sun was beginning to set and the landscape was quickly turning dark. Jacob came up from behind you, his bare chest unfazed by the chill weather. You stood unbothered as well, the warmth of your wolf blood fought against the cold, especially after shifting. You turned to look at him, and as always your chest tugged at you to close the space between you. But you fought yourself and stood your ground.

“The weather is getting worse,” he nearly had to yell over the wind. You nodded. Alice had said this would happen. A winter vortex would come in and blanket the clearing with snow and ice. Then, after the sun returned, the Volturi would arrive.

“Should we head back?” You asked. It would take no time at all to head back to the Cullen house, but Edward had wanted eyes on the clearing to make sure there were no surprises.

Jacob shook his head and pulled over the backpack he had been carrying. “This storm shouldn’t last too long. Alice said it would be over by tomorrow morning.” He looked at you with a strange sparkle in his eyes. “I brought us a tent,” he continued, “I mean only- if you want to.” You arched your brow at him in amusement. You had never seen him trip over his words before, and lately he seemed to be doing that a lot around you.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s find somewhere out of this wind.” You reply.

The two of you found a nice spot within the trees, up against a large rock that blocked out a great deal of wind. You helped him set up the tent between the trees and found yourself glad to take refuge within. Jacob was close behind you, taking great care to zip up the tent, securing the two of you inside.

You sat across from him in silence for a moment. There seemed to be an electric charge buzzing between the two of you. It sent a strange sensation down your spine when you noticed how he looked at you. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to speak, but to break the tension you finally reached over and yanked his pack away.

“What else are you hiding in here?” You teased.

Amusement warmed his face. He leaned back and crossed his arms and you searched his pack. “Oh you know, stakes, cloves of garlic, usual leech killing gear.”

You snorted. “Oh that’s what that smell was? The whole run over here I thought it was your breath.”

Jacob let out a laugh, a real genuine laugh. It had been a while, it had been months, since you heard that laugh of his. It warmed your heart to hear his laugh again. You pulled out the contents of his backpack, and found that he had packed the two of you an extra set of clothes, in case transforming caused any wardrobe issues. There was a handmade quilt that you pulled out and set aside. And a few granola bars and a few waters.

You tossed him a bar and a bottle and let yourself stretch out across the tent as you ate. The two of you chatted mindlessly a bit as you tried to ignore the growing tension that seemed to build within the tent. It was as if you could reach out and touch the electric waves that buzzed between you. Finally, you let yourself stretch out on the tent floor, using the quilt as a pillow. Jacob hesitated a moment before joining you on the floor, your bodies inches apart from each other as the wind picked up outside of the tent.

You turned on your side to face him, and were shocked to find him already facing you. His eyes seemed deep in thought as they scanned your face. You felt your face redden slightly at the intensity of his gaze.

“Jake?” You ask softly. His eyes snapped up to look at yours. “Hmm” was all he answered. You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Are you okay?” You ask with a small chuckle, “You’ve been acting—different ever since Ness was born.” At that Jacob’s smile wavered a bit but his eyes kept roaming your face.

“I’ve just been thinking,” he murmured, “ a lot of things have changed since then. It’s an— adjustment.” You expected that in some capacity. You were prepared to help Jacob once Bella became a vampire, to help distract him from the pain of that, but it never came. He seemed to almost welcome Bella into her immortal life, taking satisfaction in the fact of her still being alive in some capacity anyway. It had shocked you how— calm he was about it all.

“Does it hurt being around her?” You nearly whispered. Normally would wouldn’t have dared asked such a question, but his silence these past few weeks had been maddening. Confusion swept Jacob’s face for a moment before he realized what you meant. And then he chuckled.

“Around Bella? No. Not anymore. That’s— not the change I meant, although it has been an adjustment getting used to her new life. But that isn’t what I meant. ” He said. You scrunched you brows at him in confusion and then abruptly sat up. Jacob propped himself up on one arm to meet your gaze, his eyes searching your face to see what he had done.

“Then what do you mean, Jacob? Why else have you been acting so weird lately?” Anger tipped on your words, but you found yourself unable to restrain your emotions. Jacob waited for you to continue, his lips pressed together as if he was holding back.

“For weeks now you’ve been so calm, so careful… I thought you would be upset or angry or something! Leah and Seth won’t tell me anything, but I know they know something. Even Edward seems to know what it is but for some reason you refuse to tell me? Jacob, you’ve just been so quiet around me lately and I can’t understand why. What changed? Did I do something to you?” At the last question you felt tears fall down your eyes.

Without hesitation, Jacob’s hand we on either side of your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, “I was afraid that if I admitted the truth— that if I told you—“

“Told me what, Jacob?” You pleaded. You grabbed his hands that held your face.

“I—“ he struggled to say, “I imprinted.”

Suddenly you were back in that moment. You felt Paul’s teeth clamp down on your neck, the sharp crunching pain of his canines crunching down on bone. That pain was excruciating. But even then, the pain and shock allowed you to pass out from it. Death was a numbing relief to the pain, or so you imagined. But this pain had no relief. You dropped your hands from Jacob’s and felt your heart collapse.

“On who?” Your voice cracked. “When did you—?”

Jacob froze at your reaction. You could no longer hide the pain that radiated from your chest. You felt as if you might vomit. Would it be better to know? Who she was, how he now felt for her? His world now revolved around her. How would you survive?

“I need to leave,” you choke out. You tried to fumble with the zipper but Jacob’s strong hands gripped you and pulled you away.

“Y/N, please,” he voice was oddly strained, “let me explain—“

“I cant!” You cried, “i can’t do this anymore Jacob! I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay, when my heart is breaking! I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you. That you are everything to me, my purpose, my entire existence! Please, let me go!”

The words you promised to never say were out. Your body heaved in violent sobs as the weight of your soul poured out before him. You expected him to release you. To be horrified by what you just said. But instead you felt him move closer, the space between you disappeared as he wrapped his large arms around you tightly and securely.

“Oh Y/N,” he murmured against your hair, “oh sweetheart, my love, my everything, no, no, no, no.” You stilled under him, his words piercing your body with every syllable. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you tell me you imprinted?”

You pushed yourself away from him far enough to look into his eyes. You searched his wildly waiting for him to explain. He ran a hand through your hair, pushing it away from your face. “That night, when Paul nearly killed you—“ his voice cracked at the memory, “ I thought I would lose you. Something snapped in me that night, something deep and primal in my blood. Suddenly, you were the only pull I felt. Everything in my heart, body, and soul was fighting for you.”

You weren’t sure if you were breathing then. Tears fell down your face as Jacob continued. “I knew it was the imprint, I felt it deep within my bones. When you finally woke up, I waited to see if maybe the bond had snapped into place for you too… but nothing had seemed to change for you. I wasn’t sure how to tell you— so I waited and kept my distance. I didn’t want to force this on you, or scare you away. But I never thought…” he trailed off. His thumb traced down the side of your face, stopping at the edge of your bottom lip.

“How long have you known?” He asked.

“I’ve always known,” you whispered.

And with those words alone, any restraint, and uncertainty Jacob had had vanished. In an instant his hand cupped the back of your neck as he pulled you closer and kissed you. The contact of him made stars dance in your vision, but immediately you found yourself melting against him. You threw your arms around his neck and anchored yourself to him. He growled against your mouth in reaction, and deepened the kiss.

His tongue explored your mouth, intoxicating your senses with the taste of him. Your fingers knotted up in his hair, and you pulled his head closer to yours, needing more of him in your reach. He reacted to your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His free hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. You gave out a small yelp in surprise and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Jacob moved his lips from your mouth to trace the line of your jaw, peppering you with kisses as he made his way down your neck. “Whats so funny?” He murmured against the nape of your neck. You tilted your head back to give him easier access, the warmth of his lips were inviting. “You have no idea—“ you said breathlessly, “how long I’ve wanted you to kiss me.”

You felt him smile against your neck, his teeth grazing you as he pulled away slowly. He looked at you, desire burning in his dark eyes, his face oddly flushed with red and warmth. “I’m sorry for not realizing sooner. I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting. All this time,” he said, both of his arms slipped around you, pulling you as close to him as possible, “I thought it was friendship that made our relationship so strong.” He said the word as a curse. As if he realized now that what the two of you had was more than that. More than any word used to describe this feeling.

“I thought it was a different kind of love you felt for me,” he admitted, “I never imagined it was— this.” You slid one hand down from his neck and traced the line of his jaw. Gentle touches you had always restrained yourself from. He leaned into you, shivering at each touch. A smile spread across your face as you held your heart in your hands. All of the heartache these past few years had suddenly vanished from your mind. None of it mattered. Not anymore. “I suppose you have time to make up for then,” you challenged.

Jacob’s eyes bore into you, waiting for you to make the next move. He would bend to you, only you. Your thumb traced the outline of his lips. Two words. One command of him. The one thing you had sought after since you met him. A whisper within the wind.

“Kiss me.”

#fem reader #twilight #jacob black #jacob black x reader #team jacob #soulmates #imprint

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