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redstarwriting · 11 months

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hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

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cheolhub · 1 year

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FIRST DATE — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu doesn’t usually fuck on the first date. emphasis on usually.

wc. 3.5k

warnings. MINGYU W/ A MASSIVE DICK, size kink, oral (m. receiving), deep throating/face fucking, shy baby!gyu (at first ;)), tears ofc, pet names (baby, angel), unprotected sex, mating press, gyu is a needy, pussydrunk boy(but reader is worse lol), slight dumbification, kinda romantic but it’s literally just needy sex— MINORS DNI 18+

note. THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG…. um anyway!! happy birthday mingoo <3 — also @ hyuk4ngel ily dedicating this to u n gyu & thank u to my lovely lu ( @ bowmonde ) for beta reading this!! happy gyu birth to you all <3 (pls excuse typos)

“i-i don’t usually do this on the first date,” mingyu stutters as you kiss down his neck, nipping and biting at his skin. he lets out a shuddered breath because he can feel the marks you’re leaving. he swears you’re trying to spell your name and it’s making his cock throb in his already tight jeans.

you mumble into his skin, “i don’t either, but, fuck gyu… you’re so sexy, i couldn’t hold back..” your hands find their way under his shirt, feeling him up and moaning when he whimpers at the not-so-subtle touch.

gyu. you’ve called him by his nickname and you barely know him and, for some reason, it really turns him on.

he wanted to be a gentleman– wanted to walk you to your door, peck your cheek, and whisper goodnight– but your mutual attraction got the best of you. one thing led to another and you were kissing him outside of your door as soon as he’d agreed to your invitation to come inside.

you parted from his neck briefly to get inside so none of your neighbors would come outside to see the two of you eating each other alive. as soon as he’d stepped inside and closed the door, though, you pressed him right against it.

“we should move to–” he tries, but he’s interrupted by your lips. you slot them into his and your hands wander down his torso, down his abdomen, down till they reach his belt.

“what do you wanna do, mingyu~” you seductively whisper against his lips.

he shudders again, “anything. we can do whatever you want.”

you smirk, “you’re such a gentleman, gyu… you were so sweet at dinner. you picked me up, paid for my meal, walked me all the way to my door… i just wanna make you feel good.” you tell him, unbuckling his belt, but before you move to unbutton his jeans, you ask permission. “can i do that, gyu? can i make you feel good?”

you can’t be real.

“fuck, y-you don’t have to, i want you to feel good, too.” he replies, words breathy as he finds himself chasing your lips.

you moan just at his words, leaning in to give him what he wants.

you must’ve done something redeemable in your past life to have accidentally met mingyu in a cafe. he may or may not have been on his phone while walking out and you may or may not have bumped into him while he was leaving. needless to say, his piping hot coffee ended up all over you and him, staining his white button up and your cute new top in the process.

he’d asked if you were okay— if you were hurt or burned— profusely apologizing with a nervous stutter. when you finally noticed how beautiful the man before you was, you couldn’t even care about the irrevocable stain made on your shirt.

you ultimately ended the conversation with, “it’s okay, you can pay me back with a date maybe?” to which he gave you an incredulous look. when he realized you were serious, he nodded shyly and exchanged numbers with you.

and the date went swimmingly, truth be told. probably the best date you’d ever been on. he made you laugh like no other and you made him blush with your playful teasing and easygoing aura. the chemistry was undeniable.

which brings you back to the now— his tongue shoved in your mouth and your fingers still fumbling to unbutton his jeans.

when you finally get them undone, you break from the kiss again and mingyu hates that you keep doing that, letting out a whine every time it happens.

“wanna suck you off.” you tell him bluntly and his eyes widen in shock, puffy lips parting a bit. “can i?”

“are you sure?” he asks, meekly– a bit too shy for a man of his caliber. “i can eat you out instead…”

your core pulses at the words because, fuck, that sounds good too. you have no doubt in your mind that mingyu is a god at eating pussy if it’s anything like the way he kisses you.

but, no, you’re adamant on getting his dick in your mouth, so you shake your head. “you can do that for me another time… i really wanna do this. you’ll let me, won’t you?”

and how the fuck could he say no to that? he nods his head letting out a shaky, “ok.”

you nearly squeal, excitedly dropping to your knees and as you hit the ground, your eyes are leveled with his alarmingly large bulge. you unzip his jeans, pulling the denim and cotton boxers down his thick thighs till his cock pops out, slapping against his clothed abdomen. mingyu hisses as his length is free from the confinement and met with the cool air circulating in your home.

and, honestly, you think you start drooling because holy. fucking. shit. he’s intimidatingly big.

no, big is an understatement. he’s huge. massive. likely to split your body right in half if he tried to put it inside of you. but, really, what did you expect? mingyu himself is big. you’ve dated many men who were bigger than you, some even bigger than him— but none of their dicks compared to the one currently twitching in front of you.

his leaky tip was flushed red and the veins running through his length were prominent. you could nearly feel the weight on your tongue and you hadn’t even touched him.

“you’re so big,” you whisper looking up at him and he swears he’s gone bright red at the comment.

“‘m not that big…” he mumbles, eyes averting from yours. if he looks at you on your knees any longer, he may cum untouched. “is it too much? i really don’t mind taking—“

you shake your head vigorously . if anything, you wanna take him down your throat even more. “it’s not… it’s not too much— i can take it.” you tell him and he inhales sharply because he’s fucking sure you could take it. “do girls not tell you you're big, though? why are you so humble about it?” you ask, hands slowly coming to wrap around his girth.

he gasps at the unexpected contact, eyes finally coming back to you to find what may be a faux pout etched into your lips.“t-they do… i just- i don’t think it’s that big.” he reiterates.

“well it is. you probably wouldn’t even fit inside me,” you admit, voice hushed. your mouth hovers over his tip, letting a trail of spit out to lubricate him.

he curses, cock twitching in your light grip. “fuck, really?” the thought of not fitting in your cunt because he’s just that big has his mind reeling– has him excited. he wants to see if what you’re saying is any true (it is).

you hum, nodding your head, slick hand effectively moving up and down his cock. “mmh, might break me without any prep– but you’ll make it fit, right, gyu? you’ll fuck me well?”

he lets out a gaspy moan, throwing his head back. “yeah, baby, i’ll make it fit– i’ll fuck you so well. shit, i’ll do anything you want.” his parroted words come out breathy once again.

you exhale sharply, cunt clenching around nothing at his words and the thought of taking his cock. your hands quicken their pace before you move to wrap your lips around his blushing tip.

this man will give you anything you want and you’re willing to do the same for him. men like mingyu are nearly impossible to come by and you want to keep him all to yourself, so if that means choking on his dick till you can’t breathe, so be it.

you move your mouth down his cock and before you can reach the base, he’s already hitting the back of your throat.

right above you, mingyu is losing it. he feels the way you constrict around him and it’s already taking him out. he hadn’t expected to be so sensitive, but he just can’t handle how warm and wet your mouth is and he definitely can’t handle how tight your throat is. he can only imagine how much tighter your cunt must be.

“fuuuck,” he groans, hands flying to your head, tangling his fingers into your hair. “you’re so good.”

the subtle praise heads straight to your core and you can’t stop the moan that vibrates his entirety. a pitchy whine rips from his throat and he fortuitously thrusts into yours causing tears to prick at your eyes as you let out a strident gag.

he gasps out an apology, “‘m sorry.” he panting relentlessly and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was about to release into your mouth. when you look up at him with your mouth full and tears clouding your vision, you see that he isn’t really sorry. “‘m so sorry, angel, fuck, ‘m sorry.” he echos over and over with his face pinched in pleasure, yet his hips won’t stop bucking into your mouth.

you try your best to breathe, but his massive cock makes it hard as it fills your mouth and throat completely. his hands holding your head in place makes it impossible to move, but he sounds so pretty whining and desperately moaning out your name– you don’t even want to back off of him.

your hands find his bare thighs and you grip them for dear life, fingernails digging into the flesh, sure to draw blood if he doesn't ease up any second now. he hisses at the feeling, ripping you off him with a tug on your locks.

“need to fuck you now,” he groans, his cock throbbing angrily at the loss of contact. “can’t cum like that, ‘s too embarrassing.” he picks you up, making you stand on your feet. he notices how your mascara runs and your lipstick is smudged, but somehow, you’re still the prettiest thing in the world.

your ego naturally inflates at the comment and you smile cheekily. “i would’ve been flattered if you came that quick.” the words come out raspy thanks to the way his cock bruised your throat.

he chuckles breathily while pulling up his pants, “i‘m sure you get guys that cum too fast a lot. especially with a mouth like that. ”

you shrug, taking his hand and dragging him to your bedroom on the opposite side of the main entrance. “sometimes, but none are as pretty as you.” you tell him truthfully as you guide him inside quickly, shutting the door behind you. “or as big.”

your face to face with him and he whispers, “yeah?”

you tug him close to you by his sweater. “yeah,” you whisper against his lips. “dunno how you haven’t been locked down yet, you’re so attractive ‘n sweet– and… y’know, you’re huge.”

“just waiting for the right person to come along, i guess.” he whispers back, hands finding purchase on your waist. “think i’ve found them, though.”

your heart skips a beat and your breathing picks up, “yeah?” you echo breathily back at him.

“fuck yes,” his grip tightens, pulling your body flush to his. you feel his cock pressing into your abdomen and you let out a whimper at both the coded confession and the way your pussy throbs at his touch. “c’mere, baby.”

you melt at the pet name, closing the gap between the two of you. you count back to how many times you’ve kissed him tonight and you’re almost scared that you’re addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. the thought quickly dissipates when mingyu begins to pull your dress up by the hem, though. the two of you walk towards the bed, mouths still attached till you fall on the plush comforter, mingyu toppling over you.

you giggle into his mouth at his body crushing yours. “gyu.”

“sorry.” he scrambles, standing up so you can get your dress over your head. you throw the fabric to the ground, leaving your body adorned in a pretty, white set. typically, you wouldn’t dare pull out one of your favorite sets for anyone– especially not for a first date– but you think mingyu is the most beautiful– most deserving– man to exist. he should get to see the set.

and he does see it. he can’t stop the way his eyes ogle your lace covered body. “you’re so beautiful.” he pants out much like he’s in heat.

and he just might be. he quickly and clumsily kicks off his shoes and pulls his pants back down, revealing his aching cock to you again. you curse to yourself when his shirt comes off shortly after, his big chest and toned abdomen on full display.

god really took his time with kim mingyu.

he doesn’t waste any time, practically lunging at you and hovering over you with blown out pupils. “look like an angel– fuck, you’re so pretty.”

you pout, feeling your brain turn to mush at the endless compliments that seem to flow past his swollen lips. the dull ache and sporadic pulse in your cunt remind you how needy you are, though, so you express that to him by bucking your hips up.

“gyu…” you whimper. “want it so bad.”

he groans, hands pinning your hips down and grounding you to the bed, “i have to prep you, baby– you said it yourself, ‘m not gonna fit.”

you shake your head ceaselessly while squirming in his grip, “no, i don’t care, just give it to me or else i might die.”

“but you said–”

you interrupt him before he can say anymore. “give it to me… please.” the plea comes out hushed and your words are laced with the utmost desire. so much so that it’s almost impossible for mingyu to deny you. you can see some doubt lingering on his face so you tell him exactly what he needs to hear. “‘m so fucking wet for you, mingyu… i’m sure it’ll just slip in– it’s okay. you won’t hurt me.”

he shakily exhales before nodding. “o-okay…” his fingers nimbly tug at the soaked panties, signaling you to raise your hips so he can roll them off your legs.

mingyu’s pulse thumps erratically in his ears as soon as he sees just how wet you are. your pussy glistens under the soft lamp light and he wants a taste– to drown in your pussy– because he just knows you’re fucking delicious.

“wanna taste you…” he moans and your walls clench around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal trickling out of you.

you teeth catch your bottom lip to stop the whine bubbling in the back of your throat.“next time…” you croak. “just need your cock inside of me right now.”

he nods his head at the promise of a next time– he’ll hold you to that. “condom?”

“iud and ‘m clean,” you confirm, knees knocking against your chest as you pull them up.

“same.” he says mindlessly as he grips the back of your thighs and spreads you open. “well, i don’t have an iud, but i’m clean, too.”

he’s cute, you think before you remind yourself that this cute, big man is about to absolutely wreck you.

you smile, “good,”

one of his hand wraps around his throbbing length, running his flushed tip between your soaked folds to collect wetness. you whine at the contact, praying that he finally stops this unintentional teasing.

when he drags his cock to your drooling hole, he asks, “are you sure?”

your eyes squeeze shut and nod, “uh-huh, please.”

he lets out a wobbly sigh before pushing his fat tip into you, biting his lip as he watches the way your cunt stretches open to swallow him up. you gasp, back arching at the burning sensation in your core. you really have never taken anyone so big.

he stops only half way when he’s met with strong resistance. “talk to me, angel,” he whispers to mask his wavering voice. “are you okay?”

you mewl, “g-gyu…”

“baby, do you need me to pull out? you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts, his cock twitching between the gummy walls that suffocate him.

your hands grip the sheets under you and you shake your head, letting out the most incoherent sentence ever. “n-no, just– slow, go slow.”

but you’re completely coherent to mingyu. “relax, pretty. ease up for me– i want it to feel good.” he coaxes, voice soft.

his attempt in helping you relax proves to be futile when you clamp tighter around him. the action elicits a moan from the both of you.

“j-just fuck me– please, just move.”

he gives you a weary look, but does what you ask for anyway. he pushes past the resistance, sheathing himself further inside of you. and, fuck, you swear you’re just about to cum when he’s finally bottomed out, both of your hips flushed against each other. you’re impaled on his fat cock, stretched open and completely full of him.

he’s very hyper-aware of how you're squeezing him while he’s balls deep inside of you and his mind can’t stop reeling. he moans out your name and a few curses, holding himself there till you adjust to his size.

and you’ve gone dumb at this point, unable to make a comprehensible thought about anything other than the cock you’re split open on. “s-so big. oh my, god, mingyu– you’re so big.” you almost sound like you’re overexaggerating, but it’s true. you can feel him everywhere.

he can’t stop the way he jolts at the comment, inadvertently driving himself into you. you sob at the doing, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“shit, sorry. still good?”

“mhm, ‘s good– ‘m good.” you tell him as the uncomfortable burn slowly melts to pleasure. “you can move, baby.”

mingyu groans, hands coming back to grip the backs of your knees pushing them against your chest before he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.

you let out the prettiest moan, his name tumbling past your pouty lip and, now, he thinks he’s lost it.

no, he’s definitely lost it because his speed quickens without a second thought. he drives his cock in and out of you, listening to the way you cry and mewl mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your wet cunt.

“Y/N, you’re so fucking good. pussy’s so fucking good– takin’ me so well,” he nearly cries, gripping your flesh tighter. “god, you’re mine now.”

his?

it shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but the way your stomach flips and walls tighten verifies that it does.

“and you’re mine.” you moan in response.

and the reassurance that you want him to be yours has him lurching in to sloppily kiss you, moaning into your mouth while he keeps a rapid tempo. you let him swallow your whines and your arms envelope him, pulling him closer.

his cock finds your sweet spot and when you gasp, he knows to keep hitting it with precision.

“gyu! gyu, i’m gonna cum.” you warn against his lips.

he growls, thrusts increasing in pace as he’s adamant on getting you to your high. “cum for me, baby– cum all over my fucking cock.”

his words and impressive speed trigger your orgasm. the tightness in your tummy dissolves as you completely unravel under his big, buff body. you seize, back arched and head thrown to the pillow as you cum and clench around him uncontrollably.

“that’s it, fuck,” he moans, continuing his assault on your poor pussy. “you’re gorgeous, angel, so fucking pretty when you cum.”

the onslaught of pleasure is almost too much, body beginning to shake in overstimulation. “w-wan’ you to cum,” you slur, a cry following the words. “please please please, cum on me!” you beg.

and mingyu is at your beck and call. he knows he’s just met you, but he’d do anything you asked of him because the grip you (and your pussy) have him in is nothing short of insane.

that’s why he’s quick to pull out, releasing you from his bruising grip to fist his arousal-drenched cock up and down. he throws his head back and moans out your name again as he releases hot, white ribbons of cum onto your stomach.

after a few minutes of panting and coming down from his high, he chuckles airly. “i’m so glad i spilled my coffee on you, if i’m being completely honest.”

you giggle, hiding your face in your hands, “it was a cute top, though.”

“well, you look cute without it on.” he smiles, leaning down to pepper your face with soft pecks.

“mingyu!” you blush, playfully slapping his bare chest. “be serious!”

“i am!” he laughs. “speaking of being serious… when’s our next date?”

you hum, “well, it depends. when are you free and what do you wanna do?”

there’s a playful glint in his eyes when he looks at you, “i’m free now… and y’know how you said i can eat you out next time?”

your breath gets caught in your throat, but you nod your head remembering the promise you’d made.

“well… what do you say? can i treat you to a second date? say… right now?”

“i’d love nothing more.”

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot #svt smut #seventeen smut

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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months

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the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc.

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got.

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 spoilers #gos2 #neil gaiman

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venusacrossthestars · 2 months

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right person wrong time? wrong person, a fine time.

Pairing- Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

WC- 2.2k

warnings- angst, Charles is an ass, swearing(?) italics represent flashbacks

f1 masterlist

Its been a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since Charles broke your heart. Its been a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since you last saw him. Its been a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since he said, ‘its not you, its me.’ Its been a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days and yet you can’t fall asleep without thinking what could have been.

All the traveling and distance was considered to be a curse during your relationship, now you were considering it a blessing. Monaco wasn’t a large country by any means, its own popularity along with its neighboring countries came from tourist, travelers, and summer home owners. Meaning it was the perfect place to blend in with the hundreds of passing faces. Here you were hoping to go unrecognized.

The first two weeks of your five week vacation were going swimmingly. You and a couple friends rented out a villa. You all swam, ate good food, shopped, sun tanned, everything you could imagine of a great vacation.

It was a Tuesday morning and you and your friends were sitting out on the patio at some brunch cafe that was quickly becoming your favorite spot in Monaco when your luck of being incognito had run out.

“Y/N?” you hear a familiar voice call out, and judging by the reactions of your friends you know exactly who it is.

Turning around in your seat to look up at the caller, you are greeted with the unfortunate sight of your ex-boyfriend.

“Charles?”

“Wow, its really you,” he seems surprised.

“Yup, in the flesh,” you chuckle out uncomfortably. You shoot a look ‘help what do I do’ at your friends.

“What are you doing here?”

“On vacation, trying to enjoy the slow season before the fall.”

“Oh that’s nice.”

“Yeah.” Neither of you say a word after that. Your friends attention split between you and your ex.

After a moment of silence it seems that Charles finally gets the memo that you would like to get back to brunch, “I’ll leave you be, hopefully I’ll see you around.”

You don’t reply, why would you lie and say you hoped to see him too? After the way things ended you were seriously hoping to never see Charles Leclerc ever again.

The past few weeks had been rocky, you knew that. Charles had been having a few couple of weeks. A DNF at his home race, a poor performing car, pressure from the fans. You understood it all to be frustrating. Your work hadn’t been easy either. Someone had split their coffee on your silk piece for your show, you had to spend a full 36 hours having to re-sew the entire thing by hand in order to make the deadline.

All you wanted right now was to curl up in your boyfriends arms, watch crappy tv and eat even crappier food. But it didn’t seem like any of that was going to be happening with the ominous ‘we need to talk’ text you got from Charles around lunch time.

When you entered the apartment it felt cold, empty, and overall unwelcoming. All the lights were off expect for the ones in the kitchen and sitting at the island was Charles with his head in his hands.

“Babe,” you began as you walked closer, “is everything ok? Your text gave me a bit of a start.”

Charles doesn't respond and you move to rest your hand on his shoulder, he flinches at the contact as if he is repulsed by your touch.

“I want to break-up,” Charles states out of the blue.

Time stops, you swear it. The clock that hangs on the wall doesn’t move nor make a sound, the dripping faucet doesn’t let a drop of water fall, the quiet humming of the air conditioner is absent. All is still, except your rapidly beating heart.

“What?” you croak out.

“Its not you, its me.” Charles simply states, back still turned to you.

“I find that hard to believe when you won’t even look me in the eyes.” You scoff, you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

Charles shoots out of his chair and faces you. His hands flying up in the air. “I want to break up!”

A “why?” escapes you pathetically.

“Its not you, its me.” he repeats. “The distance, me traveling for my job, you traveling for yours. It’s all too much. I’m not, I can’t do a relationship right now. It’s all too much.”

“Charles,we talked about this just say the words and I’ll drop it all for you. You know this.” You tell him, referring to your conversation from a few weeks back that how you would take less responsibilities at your job if he wanted you too.

“I can’t- I can’t do that to you.”

“Oh but you’ll throw a two year relationship away,” now your angry. He throws this at you out of the blue. No hints, no major changes in his behaviors, nothing.

“Y/N-” he beings but you are quick to cut him off.

“No, I deserve an explanation as to why this all of the sudden ‘this’ isn’t working.”

“Y/N” he tries again.

“It was all fine, yeah we had a few bad weeks but we have a gap week coming and maybe if we just try and relax we can-”

“Maybe its because I don’t love you!” Charles now interrupts you. “Maybe its because I never loved you.”

“Well now you are just being mean,” you weren’t going to cry. Why would you? It wasn’t like the man you have given your all too for the past two year was breaking your heart or anything? If you weren’t going to cry then what was running down your cheeks.

“It’s the truth.”

“You’re an ass. Typically Charles behavior. Run when things go though or don’t go your way. Too high and mighty.”

“You don’t know what its like to be me, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me! I have begged and begged you to let me in and all you do is push me away.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then you’re right. Its not me, its you. Its always you.”

“Get out.”

“What so now your mad that I agree with you?”

“Get out,” Charles says again.

“Gladly.”

Two days have passed since you saw Charles at brunch and as much as you wanted to say it was nothing, you couldn’t. Seeing Charles brought up memories that you didn’t necessarily want to think about while on vacation.

Today everyone was off doing their own thing, so you had the great idea to wander along the beach. Well it was a great idea until you heard your name being called, once again by no one other than Charles.

Stopping in your tracks you turn to face the man who claimed he never loved you.

“Are you following me?”

Charles looks take aback by the question, “no?”

You hum and continue walking, Charles follows.

“I wasn’t kidding when I say it was nice to see you the other day. Its been a while, hasn’t it.”

“Yup.” Exactly-1 year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and now 6 days, you think to yourself.

“So how have you been, anything new?”

“Been good, headlining my own show. Collaborations, sketching up new designs, same old same old.”

“I saw. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” you curtly reply. “Anything new with you?” Ever since the break-up you avoided looking at anything Formula 1 related. You can tell by his reaction that he didn’t know that.

“Well, car is good this year. Still a little early to tell but I’ve got a good feeling about this year.”

“That’s nice.”

“Can we talk?”

“Is that not what we’re doing?”

“Well, I guess. I mean I want to apologize.”

This stops you, you really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. You really never wanted to have this conversation ever. You turn now fully facing Charles, squinting at him.

“I’m sorry for that night. I didn’t mean what I told you. You didn’t deserve any of what I said.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“And that’s all you have to offer as an apology, after all this time?”

“Well I’m not perfect.”

You scoff, “see that, that right there is how I know you aren’t sorry.”

“I am. I still love you. I was an ass. I was stressed. It was all too much. I truly wasn’t in the mindset to be in a relationship. I wanted to be a good boyfriend.”

“You wanted to be a good boyfriend?” You chuckle, “if you wanted to be a good boyfriend you would’ve told me what was going on.”

“You could’ve been a better girlfriend.”

Typical Charles, is all you can think to yourself. You are now seething, emotions that have been pushed down and down, now surfacing.

“I was willing to work it out,” you point at your chest, “all of the problems I was willing to work through for you. I was willing to ignore the hurtful words because I loved you. I would’ve left everything behind. All of it. If it meant being with you. So don’t tell me I could have been a ‘better girlfriend’, unbelievable.”

“Right person, wrong time.” Charles said quietly.

You actually laugh at his statement. Was he high? At the beginning you might’ve thought that too. You loved him so deeply that you were willing to over look his flaws. But that night, that faithful night when he ripped your heart out and ran it over with his Ferrari you realized that someone who loved you would never do what he did to you.

“No Charles, you were the wrong person at a fine time. The right person would try to work out their problems. The right person would listen to their girlfriends concerns. The right person wouldn’t tell the person they love, that they simply never loved them. The right person wouldn’t ask another woman to marry him not even a year later. And yet you stand here claiming to still love me. You wanted to be a good boyfriend, how about you focus on being a good fiance.”

A look of hurt flashed over Charles face and for a moment you almost felt bad for him. But he hadn’t felt bad when he broke your heart. He hadn’t felt bad when he said that he couldn’t do a relationship and travel. He held no remorse for you when not even a month later he was seen with another woman hanging off his arms. And you know for a fact that he held no remorse when 7 months later he was asking her to be his wife.

Yes, Charles the same man who told you that he wasn’t ready for a relationship was engaged to another woman. The same woman he was seen with not even a full month after he broke your heart. At first you thought he was cheating on you, who wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. But as much as you hated Charles he did surprisingly had morals. He might’ve met her when with you but you knew, mostly due to his hectic schedule, that he wasn’t cheating on you.

“Speaking of which, how is the wedding planning going. Its been how long since the two of you got engaged?” You ask. You know how long its been. You know you’re being petty. You know asking about the engagement is a low blow. You should be the bigger person but there is something about the way he is looking at you that fills you with rage and sadness.

“That’s none of your business.” Charles crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

“Well I would say this has been nice but lets not kid each other. Charles I do wish you the best with everything, but please, don’t ever talk to me again.”

You are quick to turn away, you don’t want to hear another word from him. This vacation was meant to be peaceful. You were meant to blend in and have fun. The last thing in the world you were expecting was to run into your ex.

The once beautiful country of Monaco had now been tainted by the unpleasant memories of a time past. And you knew that no matter how much you loved the atmosphere, the people, the culture that you would never be able to wash the memory of Charles away. Charles Leclerc has officially ruined Monaco for you.

That night after you recounted the story to your friends over a crappy bottle of tequila, you went to bed and did something you haven’t done for a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days, you googled ‘Charles Leclerc’ and the first thing that that popped up might’ve been a surprise to everyone, but not you. “Charles Leclerc and long-time fiancée mutually call off engagement”.

And for the first time in a year, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days you fell asleep not thinking of Charles Leclerc and what might’ve been.

taglist- crossed out names mean I could not tag you

@arieslost @astrostar24 @aneverythingwriter @maryseesthings @boiohboii @lexiestarkey @scaramou @anedpev @simplyscorpio @the-untamed-soul @stupendousrebeldreamer @lyana344 @moonlightem @itsbwokenln4 @a-daydreamers-day @barcelono @naturallyspontaneous @bunbun9396 @meredithmeiz @clowngirlsstuff @jordy-jor5 @charlesleclerx @loveyatopluto @lewisroscoelove @graciearnold1 @saiteliites @oliveswiftly @lover122 @dear-fifi @onecojg @martaaairwin1994-blog @bigchrisevansmarvelsoul @sittingalonereads @fuckmylifedudee @hanniesdawn @leonie-swift @havaneselover08 @homosexualjohnwayne @bjralph @naaanasworld @dannyramirezwife @mileeen-aa @futuristicherobailifflamp @boherahpsody

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc angst

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itsvelyria · 2 months

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"f1 drivers as happy taylor swift songs"

happy testing week everybody!!

Charles Leclerc

yeah, you know i did one thing right🩷

he watches as you mutter conspiratorially with his mother, whispers in each other's ears and shooting glares to whoever dares eavesdrop. sitting on his childhood sofa, he reflects on the past and his life, pondering in the moment of silence. and there is this voice in his head that talks to him, reminding him of every regret, every single person he's loved and lost. he tries to shut the voice out, knowing full well the negativity never does any good. but as arthur had put it at dinner earlier, it seems as though he's been more relaxed of late. he brushes it off, but as his eyes train on the one he loved getting along swimmingly with the woman who loved him first, he thinks to chalk it up to the tiny nagging voice in his head that had appeared a few days ago out of the blue. the voice was a stark contrast to its predecessor, this one a ball of golden light, saying that maybe he's fucked up a lot, but at least he's got you.

Carlos Sainz

i know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey💕

there is this undeniable tingle in his spine when your soft skin presses against his. even in the blistering Spanish heat, he welcomes any skin contact from you. he glances down at where the floppy sunhat blocks most of your face from the sun, and your eyes from his. wondering how much trouble you would give him if he flings the dreadful hat into the ocean, he misses the request you direct up at him. repeating the question, he nods, taking the suncream from your outstretched hands. he takes his time with the lotion, savouring every second his hands are on your back. you thank him with a quick press of your lips to his cheek and he rests a hand on your thigh, bending down to steal another from your lips. his love language was definitely physical touch, especially if it was yours.

Danny Ricciardo

i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried💚

the sunshine is warm on your skin but the shoulder that brushes against yours is warmer. danny’s contagious laughter is carried by the gentle breeze that passes through the park. at age 9, danny had charmed your mom enough to let him bring her 7-year-old out on an adventure. your peripheral vision shows a teenage couple giggling over clasped hands, and when you’re young, you don’t think of the consequences, so the words slip out. “i bet you won't kiss me right here, right now”. and danny leans in, always ready for any challenge. and just as your lips are about to meet, you burst into laughter, darting away. you can still remember delightfully screaming through the public park as danny gives chase. it’s the same park he proposed in, after all.

George Russell

you wish it was me, don't you?💜

immersed in the classy ambiance of an art exhibition, george navigates the gallery adorned with bright splashes of paint marked contemporary. despite being engaged in interesting chatter, an inexplicable force compels you to lift your gaze, and it locks onto the familiar curls across the room. amid the elegant hum of hushed whispers, the air shifts, his lingering eyes meeting yours, giving rise to a thump in your chest. as his blue orbs drink in your form. once. twice. the rising tension manifests in the prickle of your bare shoulders and the unspoken question echoes amidst the artistic expressions. you yearn to step closer, to be the one on his arm. but long strands of brown silk and emerald green are in your place. and though his eyes long to meet yours again, there is nothing but empty space in your stead.

Lando Norris

so baby, can we dance through an avalanche?🖤

you drop the heavy box on the floor, the fatigue in your bones too wearisome to hold you up any longer. coupled with the emptiness of your apartment and the lack of a certain laughter in the stagnant air, you crumple onto the unmade bed. lying there for what seems like eternity, the thoughts of your future and whatnot plaguing your mind. the weight of unemployment burns heavily, so much so that you miss the sound of the door letting someone through. another body sags beside you, the familiar cologne staining your nostrils. your head turns, finding purchase in the shoulder beside. the stupid orange shirt reminds you of your limited time with him and something clicks. the home system is called upon as a DJ, playing soundtracks of celebration as you pull your boyfriend around the room in a made-up waltz, laughing at his put-out expression and then over the absolute misery that is life. despite the chaos, your heart still finds comfort in its other half’s presence.

Lewis Hamilton

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours💙

as you clean the apartment you share with lewis, your gaze falls onto the cream card hidden just between your books. Persuasion and Porchia, you note. the seal on it a light purple, the shape of a heart in the hardened wax, and you can picture your boyfriend sliding it onto your bookshelf before he had left for another race this morning, a smirk on his face as he imagines you finding it, and you already know what it is. tracing the edges of the envelope lightly, you break the seal and slide the pages out, unfolding it to reveal the handwriting you had come to reverent. in swooping sloping cursive letters, he proclaims his love again, like he does in every single one of these. and as cheesy as it is, you treasure every single one of them, tucking them away in a little box at the corner of your wardrobe. someday when you have kids, maybe you'll take it out to show them just how deeply their father loves.

Max Verstappen

i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you🩶

he knew this. he knew full well his career would take him across the world for three quarters out of the year and yet, the one thing he failed to realize was that nothing would feel like home. and then he found you, the absolute enigma that chose to do the same thing he did, realising early on that your home wasn’t in a place. and the streets of Kyoto were just lifeless alleyways till you pointed out the cosy glow of the warm streetlights with your brown streaked hair that shined gold under them and the dark nightscape with the way you shined in his eyes. you did the same for the beaches in Miami and balconies of Spain, easing the loneliness in his memories. slowly but surely, the words you had spoken to him were coming true and his home was taking the shape of you.

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void-bitten-ghost · 4 months

Text

Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.

When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????

She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.

She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.

Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--

She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.

The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.

Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.

But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.

"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.

"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"

"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...

That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.

"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.

"You're a long way from home, demon."

"What of it?"

You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.

"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--

She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????

You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.

You see her eyes.

You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.

She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--

But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.

You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.

There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--

Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.

(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)

The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--

Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.

That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.

You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.

You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.

You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.

The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.

Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--

Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.

And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--

Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃

#modern mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #underground fighter mizu #I WROTE SOMETHING #HAHA! TAKE THAT BRAIN BLOCK!#HOPE YOU ENJOY #tw fighting #tw violence #but i mean #its bes #eitger way better safe than sorry #fem reader #ish

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

Text

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day

I try to fit as many out-and-about chores as possible into a single day so I only have one set of post-exertional malaise consequences instead of consequences after each day of doing a thing. So any time I decide to drive, I try to find several tasks to accomplish all at once.

My first stop was the Family Services Division in the hopes of getting some help with grocery bills. I am making ends meet, but it seems to be getting harder each month. And maybe I could have skipped my trip to Florida and saved that money, but if I don't do something drastic for my mental health, I fear this first holiday season without a parent could send me into the darkness.

I needed to do an interview to finish applying for SNAP. I wanted to do a phone interview, but the next appointment was in January. So I went to social services where they allow walk-in appointments. I waited in a tiny plastic chair for several hours until they called my name. She yelled out "Benjamin" because when most people see "Grelle" they aren't really sure how to say it. (Rhymes with belly.)

She started my interview and it was going swimmingly at first. But then she started asking questions about the house and my inheritance and my trust. I had no idea what to tell her. It feels like a mistake now, but I have had pretty much no involvement in that process. I have no idea how it works. And I started to panic because she was acting like I was committing fraud or something by not mentioning the trust. But the entire point of the trust was to protect my benefits. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. I have no access. But I had no idea how to explain that.

Maybe my lawyer can help me apply, but I did not want them investigating everything and screwing things up before we even have the estate through probate. We specifically hired a lawyer and went through this convoluted process to make sure everything was on the up and up. But she really made me feel like I was doing something wrong. And that made me panic, which probably made me look even more guilty of something. So I just canceled everything and left.

After a few hours in a crowded government office, I decided to head to a different crowded government office.

I know I didn't need it until 2025, but I decided to go ahead and get my Real ID thingie before my first flight. I was kind of hoping they'd retake my picture because my current driver's license is... well...

And I'm so glad they took my big terrible picture and made it into a smaller, more terrible picture.

People complain about the DMV, but the one near me runs like a machine. It was filled with people and I still only had a 10 minute wait time.

I'm starting to wonder if all of those 80s comedians who were all, "What's the deal with the DMV?" were exaggerating.

Good stuff, Jerry.

I head up to the counter and ask for a Real ID. She asks for two pieces of mail and my birth certificate.

And this disappointed me a little bit.

I did my research. I went to the Real ID website and used their interactive guide to figure out exactly which documents I would need. They gave me this entire checklist and I printed it out and went through all my records and mail trying to find everything.

I had to wait a week for my internet bill to come because it's the only thing I forgot to change to paperless. This took a lot of effort and I was ready to be validated for being so prepared.

And she asks for two pieces of mail.

Any mail.

So I was off to get new tires.

Driving around on 8 year old bald tires was giving me anxiety. I didn't have the money for new tires, but I remember the guy saying they had financing. Recently several of my past debts went past the statute of limitations, and so my credit score lifted itself out of the pits of "poor" and into the realm of "fair." So I decided to take a chance and apply for a Discount Tire credit card. It's a 6 month payment plan with no interest, so that didn't feel as predatory as all the credit card offers I get in the mail with 8000% interest.

We started going through the approval process and I was answering all of the questions and then I saw the name of the bank offering the credit. It was the same bank that tried to sue me and also the bank that can longer collect due to the statute. I was worried they put me on some sort of list and would deny me. But, to my surprise, they approved me instantly. And wouldn't you know it, they gave me almost exactly the amount needed for a new set of tires.

I'm hoping we'll be doing another auction of the house stuff soon, so I plan to pay off the card and then cancel it, but this was the only solution I could come up with to drive safely until then.

I was having a weird day where photos of crusty rich wide dudes followed me everywhere I went. Here is my good ol' boy governor at the entrance to social services.

And at the tire place, I noticed this fella...

Why does every rich CEO think they are a font of wisdom capable of creating compelling quotes?

Does he think no one has ever said "work hard" and "have fun"? And after he said this was he like...

"That's gold, put that in *every* store."

"Oh, and use that picture of me where it looks like a handsome gal just grabbed my undercarriage."

He probably thinks, "Well, no one has put these specific generic platitudes together into a single mega-platitude. I am a genius."

"Be honest, work hard, have fun, be grateful, pay it forward" sounds like he had a bunch of motivational posters on his wall and started reading them all at once.

Like, every line could have a picture of an eagle above it.

In any case, the guy at the tire store, Dakota, was really nice. He made the experience very low anxiety. And he really liked my Thor's Hammer keychain with built in fidget spinner.

He went around showing it to all his coworkers. "Look, it even spins!" And they were like, "Dude, where did you get that??" And I was like, "Amazon." Now I'm just imagining 10 dudes at a tire store all fidgeting their hammers.

As nice as he was, Dakota was still a salesman and had a job to do. He gave me two tire options and tried to upsell me. The cheapest tires had a "1" rating for winter. He said they get "super hard" in the cold... I tried not to giggle. But I explained I drive about twice a month and mostly to the grocery store. If it is a bad winter day, I'll just wait or get delivery. He understood and set me up with the cheaper tires.

He then checked out my car and noticed my tire pressure sensors were dying. I keep getting a warning light on my dash. Apparently they all have tiny batteries in them that die after 7 years. And you can't just replace the batteries so you have to install brand new sensors.

And this is where my social anxiety got me into trouble.

I don't actually need these sensors. They are usually inaccurate. I prefer to test my tires with an actual gauge. But I got so caught up in his sales pitch that I agreed to replace them... at $60 each. For that I could have gotten the fancier tires. I really don't care if an orange light shows up on my dash. And I looked up the price online and a pack of 4 is $30. Though that is without installation.

But still... I wasn't thinking and he was so nice that I was just like, "I want to please Dakota. Saying no might make Dakota sad." Dakota's job is selling me but that doesn't mean I have to buy anything. He would live if I had said "no thanks."

To make my blunder more blunderous, when they finished the tires he asked for my key fob. And it decided that was the time for the battery to die. And in order to reset the system for the new tire pressure sensors, you have to press two buttons on the fob for 7 seconds. Thankfully I had a spare fob at home, but if I want my fancy new $240 sensors to work, I have to return to Dakota and have him initialize them.

I really hope these are the Cadillac of sensors.

Or, like, the ones they use on Cadillacs?

They better be accurate, is what I'm saying.

I do feel safer with new tires. So I am glad I did that. And I gave them a good obligatory kick and felt the tread. They seem nice enough even if they get boners in the winter. It's crazy how bald my other tires were in comparison. Like, I can fit half my finger down into the tread on the new ones—which did not get them super hard.

The way I drive, I probably won't wear them down. They'll probably start to rot before I do.

Before I do, meaning before I wear them down.

Not before I rot.

I am not in a rotting competition with my tires.

I was then off to Sam's. I decided all of my hard work accomplishing 2 out of 3 goals deserved some sushi. So I grabbed some California Rolls and headed home. On my way out, a Hummer and a Porsche nearly collided in the parking lot. And they sort of got stuck facing each other. One of them needed to back up and they both signaled at each other like "You back up, I'm not backing up." And it was just this weird standoff between the two douchiest looking cars you could imagine.

I mean, you have to be a douche to drive a Hummer.

I still remember the mystery Hummer dialysis patient from when my dad was going 3 time per week. We could never figure out who owned the Hummer, but we knew it was not the underpaid nurses and techs. So it had to be one of the patients. And none of them seemed the type. We never solved that mystery.

That hummer started off a delightful safety yellow. (Elon would cry.)

They decided this wasn't extra enough... so they did this...

Katrina and I could never decide... are these cow spots or the world's least effective camoflauge?

There was another patient who drove this old beater...

And I loved seeing this car because we had the same one when I was a little kid. I'm afraid the aesthetics of the 1980s Caprice Classic did not stand the test of time, but it had great sentimental appeal for me.

But this maroon beast that squeaked and sputtered its way from here to there belonged to a very sweet older gentleman. Sometimes he and my dad would be dialysis buddies—sitting next to each other in the recliners. And the worst thing about dialysis was the boredom. All you have to do is watch broadcast TV with 4 channels.

All of the TVs require headphones. They give you your own set of super cheap headphones in the dialysis welcome bag. They were very uncomfortable so I ordered my dad better ones with cushioned ear cups.

His dialysis buddy noticed them and thought they looked nice. And then he revealed that his free headphones broke and he didn't know how to get new ones. He had been watching TV with no sound for weeks. So, I bought another pair with the soft ear cups and my dad gave them to his friend. And it just made me happy imagining the two of them watching The Price is Right in matching headphones.

I do have to make fun of this sweet old man a little bit. When I walked passed his car I noticed he implemented the world's most effective anti-theft device ever created.

That's right... The Club™.

If someone decides they have to have a 40 year old car with an engine that sounds like a dying hyena and a hubcap missing... they are out of luck.

But hey, you gotta protect what is important to you. And if I needed a getaway car and my choices were between his beater and the Cow Hummer, I'd take his ride for sure.

Well, I'd try... and then get arrested because The Club™ is undefeatable.

Do NOT look that up on YouTube. It's 100% true. (And the Lock Picking Lawyer doesn't count due to him being able to break into Fort Knox with a paperclip and then doing it again to make sure it isn't a fluke.)

The dialysis center is in the same complex as my local Tolerable Schnucks and I still see that maroon boat of a car every once in a while. I always smile whenever it is there because it lets me know he is hanging in there and hopefully still has sound for his TV.

Wow, I went off on a mega-tangent.

I didn't even finish talking about my day. Where was I? Oh, the douche standoff finally ended. The Porsche Douche capitulated and backed up. Probably due to the fact the Hummer Douche has 0 visibility behind him.

When I got home I started devouring my sushi. I finally heard back from my lawyer. He submitted the last of the evidence for my appeal. And I was finally able to confirm he got the records of my ECT treatments from 20 years ago. I worked so hard to get those. At first, they forgot to send all records before 2011. I had to call back and figure that out. They shipped them and they didn't arrive until a week before we had to file. Everything was so last minute and my anxiety has been... palpable. It felt like when I did my science fair project on Sunday night.

He's hoping to get a decision at the beginning of next year. He warned me that these appeals are usually rejected. And that the most effective method of approval was a hearing in front of an administrative law judge. But that could be delayed by up to a year. So I might need to figure out how to survive until 2025. As long as my brother does what he is legally required to do, I should be okay. But counting on that also gives me palpable anxiety.

And that was my day.

Every time I go out is always an adventure.

But remember...

BE NICE. EAT YOUR VEGGIES. PET CUTE DOGS. DREAM BIG. KEEP YOUR TIRES WARM... FOR REASONS. 5 LIFE LESSONS -Froggie, Mildly Famous Internet Person

#long post

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vampdes · 1 year

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— “DARLING, DON’T YOU LOVE ME?” [do you love those kids more than you love the second most powerful supe in the world? you could crush his skull with your thighs and he’d love it. why do you not love him? oh love him, for everyone’s sake.]

GENRE. smut + unhealthy fluff

PAIRING. homelander x gn!reader

CW. lowercase intended, gn!reader, top!reader, amab!reader, single parent!reader, supe reader, mood swings [john]. PETNAMES. sugar, sweetheart, asshole [affectionate/derogatory]. KINKS. cockwarming, manhandling [?], heat/hot touch [?].

NOTES. this is a VERY, VERY old draft from 2020, i js had it in my drafts so in posting it but it is also a blurb /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\. enjoy!! <3

serene was the name given to the newest, most powerful vought supe of all time. you, more powerful than the seven put together, were sat on top of a stage at one of the press conferences. you were being asked questions, but it was tireless nevertheless.

“the workspace? between me and you–amazing breakfast, there’s a pool shaped like idaho on the 34th floor, and amazing co-workers! it couldn’t be better, really.” you joked, a heart-warming laugh leaving your lips. in all honesty, your personality made women’s panties drop; mainly because you were stunningly hot, enjoyed ‘little women’, and, according to social media, were written by a woman.

the female reporter who asked the questioned laughed along with you before allowing another reporter to speak. the next reporter stood up and asked if you have a lover, which was a random out-of-the-blue question.

“me? oh goodness, all the attention is on me now!” you joked, a wry laugh leaving your throat after you had sat up straight. “well, i do–” you started before glancing over at madelyn stillwell, her head shook in a non-approving way. then, the idea of the repercussions get shoved in your head.

on one hand, john would be angry. but on the other hand, vought is your job, a high-paying job at that, therefore you need to keep it for the sake of you and your children. “i do not.” you declared, looking back into the camera, “unfortunately, i’m just looking for the right one.” you could feel the grip john had on your thigh since the beginning of the panel tighten, it didn’t hurt in the slightest but you could still feel the leather prodding at your thigh.

the interview ended swimmingly after a few more questions given to the rest of the team, and after all that you just wanted to go home, cook and eat with your children, and then take a nap. however, john wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

“why did you lie? you’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?” he screamed, he threw your handmade vases against the floor in a fit of rage. “john, please–alexis and truly are waiting for me, so i need to leave; we can talk about this tomorrow.” you combed a hand through your tangled hair after you had gathered your clothes in your bag, and slung it over your shoulder. you face was free of makeup, which shown your deep, horrid eyebags; and it was obvious you needed sleep. john didn’t care though, he wanted answers, he demanded answers and he would be damned if he didn’t get any.

“you obviously lied! you’re a liar! you probably don’t even have children! oh my god, you’re a fucking–” his eyes started to glow red, that’s when you knew it was enough. you silenced his continuing rambling with a kiss, and he immediately melted against your lips. the kiss was longer than you intended it to be, and only breathless pecks and fuzzy feelings were what remained as the after-affects. “i love you, john, i truly do with all my heart.” he nodded at your words, a deadly, light blush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears. you laughed, the smile on john’s face made a smile come on your face.

“i love you, [name],” he declared, “so fucking much–” john hastily kissed you. desperation, agony, love overflowed into the kiss, and fuck it was crazy how good john is at kissing.

“fuck, john, wait-” he shut your complaining up with more kisses, more fondling, more desperation. “i want you so badly. so, so fucking badly.” he whispered against your lips after pecking you once more. he straddled you, already rubbing himself against your clothed crotch, and he was enjoying himself rather too much.

“please, i need you so badly.” john knew better than to just fuck himself on your cock without your permission first. “do you think you deserve it, sweetheart, really?” john nodded, eyebrows furrowing together as he could feel his cock twitch against his thigh, just feeling his cock rub against your own made his head spin. john, somewhat, calmed down and now he was resting on top of your lap, cockwarming you.

it was just so good to be on top of you, feeling your cock reach the deepest depths of pleasure no other could reach was so fucking good. john needed to ride you, it was like an unbearable urge residing deep inside of him; fortunately, he commits to all of his urges. the feeling of your cock moving in and out of him was more than drool-worthy, it felt so, so, so fucking good. you told him he was supposed to just sit there and be grateful for what he’s being given, but he didn’t care to listen, no matter the consequences he would receive. you felt so good inside of him, your cock touched every single nerve inside of him and it sent a shiver through his body.

“sweetheart, stop.” you warned, trying to focus on your work rather than john’s desperation, but he didn’t listen. again. you took off your suit-issued gloves and the protective ones underneath, and wrapped a hand around his waist. the skin-burning heat made him buckle down against your torso, quivering and whimpers followed soon after. “you’re an asshole, john. you only listen when i use force like a dog who needs to be taught a lesson.” you spat. “again..” he meekly whispered against your neck, heavy, hot breaths coming from him.

“again?” you questioned, a sinister snare on your face, “what, you want it hotter? enough to hurt you?”, your inquiry received a shaky ‘hurry up’ from him. you laughed a little before placing your freezing cold hand on his lower back, john started to complain before the heat wave spread across his body, igniting his skin aflame. “a–ah! nngh..” he wanted to say stop, the pain was unbearable but it felt so, so good. the homelander was enjoying the pure pleasure that pain brings him. drool went down his lower lip and his chin, fuck it felt so good to be in pain. your cock twitched inside of him after he clutched around you, trying to regain his senses and register what his main focus is. you realized how far-off he was, which was quite a wonderful look, and decided that it was your job to fuck the sense back into him.

after closing the macbook on your desk and removing your right hand’s suit-issued glove and protective glove, you gripped his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh, and lifted him up, only a few meters above your lap. “what’re you–” before he could finish his sentence, a loud, girlish moan left his lips. he instinctively covered his mouth with his gloved hands, not wanting to be so vulnerable in front of you. “c’mon sugar, let me hear your beautiful voice.” his face flushed at your words, but that sweet, sentimental moment didn’t last for long because you pounded back into him–repeatedly. every time your cock slammed back into him, a breathless moan departed from his lips. it was a harmony, a melodic noise that pierced through the tension-filled room.

“it’s... not enough, i want more, please give me more.” john begged and whined for more than touch. he wanted a burning sensation crawling up his spine, slowly but surely burning his skin. fucking hell, it was dangerous to do, he’d surely have second to third degree burns along his backside, but he wouldn’t dare to stop, even if he was down to bare bone. “burn me, fucking burn me before i—”, john let a shrill pass his lips after his skin turned a sickish red shade, cum coated his lower abdomen from the exciting feeling of him being perched on hells hottest fire.

john’s body was covered in life-threating burns, saliva running down his chins, and his blue eyes glazed over: a sight for a pair of lucky-as-fuck eyes. he seemed to be passing out. it was too much, maybe. probably. most likely. he was so beautiful when he was done being a bitch, and fuck he felt so good inside. john pulled you down by your tie and pressed your into his, which effectively made a whimper leave his throat.

it was evidently obvious you would be home late due to taking care of a certain someone’s needs.

#dan.writes #dan.blurbs #x male reader #male reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #homelander x male reader #homelander x gn reader #top male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader

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beyondspaceandstars · 13 days

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Date Night

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: slight frustration but mainly fluff Summary: Nothing seemed to go right with your date night plans... A/N: This is an older one shot (from 2020, omg) that I published on ao3 but never on here! (At least, I hope I didn't! I can't find it if I did, haha) so I edited it a bit and decided to release it into the wild here. it's really short and simple but I think it's sweet :)

You wanted one nice night in with your fiancé. Just one. A simple dinner with a fresh, home-cooked meal, couple glasses of wine, some shitty romantic comedy, all follow by bedtime at 10 p.m. It was all you wanted. It should've been so simple.

But your dream was crumbling to pieces as the minutes, the seconds, went on.

It started with Bucky calling to say he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be home until later than expected. You wanted to scream and remind him that you’d had this date night planned for weeks but you, luckily, kept your cool and just asked him to come home safely. This was just one little fluke, you could manage that.

So, you started the meal later than you had originally planned. You just really wanted everything to be ready and on the table for when Bucky got home. He deserved that and it should be manageable, right? You could still have a nice dinner together but the movie might have to be skipped.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly until you got to cooking the main entree: steak. You hadn’t always been the best at cooking much above pasta but hours of watching cooking shows and a couple of YouTube videos gave you just a little bit of confidence... But confidence doesn't always equal skill and next thing you knew, the steaks were burnt. Completely charred and horrendously burnt. Smoke filled the kitchen and the smell was overwhelming. Both pieces of meat were well past saving and it made you wanna rip out your hair. You didn’t even know how it got to this point. The mashed potatoes needed your attention for one second and it all went to hell.

The only thing you could successfully salvage were the side dishes which consisted of a salad and mashed potatoes. But even those had turned out slightly wrong. Your salad was somehow bitter and the mashed potatoes were runny. Although, yes, they were both edible… But it just wasn’t right.

Nothing was right.

You groaned as you tried fanning out the smoke from the kitchen, praying the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off. It was literally the last thing you needed on top of how everything else was going tonight.

You threw the burnt steaks into the trash and filled the greasy, darkened pan with hot water for it to soak in the sink. Scrubbing that was just gonna be the perfect ending, you thought as you ran your hands down your face in frustration.

You scourged through your pantry, praying you had something to replace the meal as quick as possible when you heard the front door open and shut. You stood at the pantry, staring angrily at your dry goods. You felt a presence creep up behind you and your eyes began to water. You didn’t want to turn around.

"Doll?" Bucky muttered, confusion evident in his voice.

"Hi, honey," You replied, trying to fight back any tears. "How was the mission?"

"Um, fine." He said. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

You sighed and closed the pantry door. You turned to face him, folding your arms around yourself in the process, trying to find some comfort. You couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed. A night you had been looking forward to seemed completely ridiculous now. You bit your lip, still trying to fight back the tears as best as you could but it was turning out to be useless.

Bucky’s eyes filled with concern when he saw the state you were in. He reached out and caressed your cheek. The metal of his hand contrasted pleasantly with your warmth. It was a familiar comfort you leaned into. He fully welcomed you in and wrapped his arms firmly around your shoulders. You buried your face into his chest as you wept.

Bucky was silent as you let your emotions finally run through you. He learned that was the best way for you to eventually calm down so he never seemed to mind just holding you when you were upset — so long as it made you feel better.

When you seemed to be slightly settling down, he broke the silence. "Can you tell me what’s wrong?"

You pulled yourself out of his grasp and let your eyes meet his. "I ruined date night."

Your fiancé’s expression morphed into shock. Without saying anything, you knew he completely forgot about the date night. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset.

"Date night… Oh, crap, I..."

"Don’t even worry about it," You sighed and walked over to sit at the kitchen island. The area still reeked of burnt meat which just made you wish you were in bed and finished with the day.

"No, honey, I didn’t mean to I just got caught up-," Bucky fumbled over his words as he raced to follow you.

"Seriously, can we forget about it?" You pleaded as tears threatened to come back. "I ruined it all anyways."

Bucky sighed. "What do you mean?"

You sniffled as you averted your eyes to the counter top. You traced the marble pattern as you spoke, "I burnt the steaks. Like completely black, charcoal, killed-the-cow-again burnt. Then the mashed potatoes were too creamy and the salad turned out bitter, however the hell that can happen-,"

"Doll…" Bucky cut you off when he saw you begin to ramble. You looked up at him, actually thankful that he cut you off this one time. You could take a breath.

"I just wanted to make a nice meal for you. Like a real meal. Meat, potatoes, the whole nine-yards," you explained. "But I couldn’t do it. I couldn't do something so simple. Are you sure you wanna marry me?"

He let out a low laugh at your question. "Honey, I’d still wanna marry you even if the only thing you could make was cereal."

You sniffled but managed a smile, feeling a bit better at his stance on the situation. He didn't appear to be upset and you were so grateful for that.

"Look," Bucky began, "how about we reschedule date night? I’ll mark it on every calendar and we’ll cook together, okay? Does that sound better? It'll be a real date."

Your heart warmed at the suggestion. You reached out and took his hands in yours. He gladly accepted the gesture as his eyes wandered over you, looking for some sign of approval.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, your voice getting caught in your throat. Tears were making a comeback but this time, it was happy crying. Your whole body warmed with love for your fiancé and you couldn’t get enough.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fic #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #mcu fic #writing*

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lumosandnoxwriting · 1 month

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carve your name into my bedpost || George Weasley

Title: carve your name into my bedpost Pairing: George x Reader Summary: George is on the cusp of getting everything he’s ever wanted. His plan has been working swimmingly, and as every day goes by he and his fake fiancé edge closer and closer to being something real. Which is a good thing considering George is running out of time. The season is getting closer and closer, and Coach has finally made a decision about the next Captain of the team. George is either about to have it all, the girl and the career he’s been working towards; or he’ll be left broken hearted. Only time can tell. Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI! This includes vagina; sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk and begging. A/N: yay here it is! The next part of hockey!george. I love him so much I’m not ready for him to be over! As always feedback is welcome and appreciated <3

When George wakes up the next morning Y/N is still in his arms and he’s never felt more at peace. He presses his nose to the top of her head and his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep inhale of the floral scent of her shampoo. Of course his sheets have started to smell like Y/N, and his shower too, but there’s something so intoxicating about smelling her signature scent straight from the source.

In high school they somehow managed to convince their parents that allowing them to have sleepovers was safer than them sneaking out to go off and fool around somewhere, and as he pulls Y/N in closer to his chest George is reminded of those simpler times. Back then everything seemed so easy, he was on his way to being one of the top draft prospects and he was deeply in love with the woman he knew was his forever. He never in his wildest dreams could have imagined that he and Y/N didn’t make it, and now the only reason why she’s in his bed is because of some plan he cooked up that requires her to be his fake fiancé.

No, back then George imagined that by now they would be married, with at least one child and a dog to keep an eye on them while he’s out on the road. After he made that stupid mistake and ended things with Y/N all George’s dreams of a wife and kids flew out the window. If he couldn’t have that future with her he had no interest in it.

Now that he’s got her back in his life? He’s not stopping until they’re living the life they always dreamed of. Having her in his arms only solidifies how much he still loves her and how much he needs to have her in his life permanently.

Because this apartment never really felt like home until he had Y/N to share it with.

She starts to wake then, and George squeezes her waist and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Good morning, baby,” he murmurs, his voice still gravely from sleep.

Y/N lets out a sleepy grunt and burrows her face deeper into George’s neck. “Morning,” she mumbles into his skin.

One of George’s hands sneaks up her back, fingers trailing against her skin lightly as they move. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are tangled in the hair on the back of her head, nails gently scratching at her scalp. A shiver rolls down his spine when she moans, and George wants to bottle that sound up to take with him on the road.

“We’re both off of work today,” he starts, kissing the top of her head. “And we don’t have any plans until the team dinner tonight at Coach’s, which means we’ve got the whole day to ourselves. What do you wanna do?”

She lets out a hum, her lips pressing a kiss to George’s skin. “Doesn’t matter to me, as long as we do it together.”

Today and everyday until the end of time, George promises silently.

They ended up barely even leaving the bedroom. After staying cuddled together until the sound of Y/N’s grumbling stomach got too loud to ignore, George slipped out of bed to make them breakfast which they ate together under the covers. Once they were done Y/N picked her book up off of the night stand, so George grabbed his playbook and they just sat there together, silently reading. Once it was time for lunch they finally got up, but they only made it as far as the living room. They ordered from a place down the block and they ate together on the couch while watching a movie.

It wasn’t until they had to start getting ready for dinner did they separate, not that either of them really wanted to.

In fact they’ve just walked into Coach Morris’ house and Y/N is already counting down the seconds until they can go home and cuddle in bed. She’d even been tempted to ask George if they really needed to come tonight, but she knows this means a lot to him and she’s actually looking forward to spending some more time with his teammates and their partners.

It doesn’t hurt that the dress code is formal and George looks divine in his custom tailored suit.

George leads them over to where Thomas and Adam are standing with their girlfriends, his arm curled around Y/N’s waist to keep her plastered to his side.

“Ah look, hockey’s royal couple decided to finally grace us with their presence,” Thomas teases as they approach, earning him a glare from George and a slap on the shoulder from Olivia.

“Don’t make fun of George just because he did what you’re too much of a pussy to do,” Olivia responds, making them all laugh at the flush coats over Thomas’ cheeks.

“We never even asked last night,” Jenny starts, taking a sip of her drink. “How did George pop the big question? I bet it was super romantic, we all thought he was such a commitment phobe, but I knew he was a big softie. He just needed the right girl to bring it out.”

Nerves bubble in the pit of George’s stomach, out of all the things they talked about they never constructed a back story on the actual proposal. He spares a quick glance at Y/N, figuring she’ll be scrambling just like him. So he’s surprised to see a smile on her face.

“It was simple,” Y/N explains, shrugging her shoulders. “But it was perfect. Everything I would have wanted.” She pauses, looking up at George with a bright smile. “He did it at the ice rink where we met when we were six, and where we went on our first date in middle school. Had our first kiss there too. Basically everything important that ever happened to us happened in that ice rink.”

“And it’s where I broke up with her,” George adds, immediately cutting off the aws some of their audience were in the middle of. Apparently Y/N’s story had attracted the attention of others and they now have quite the crowd, including Coach Morris and his wife. “Also known as the biggest fucking mistake I’ve ever made.”

“You were young, and dumb and scared,” Y/N adds, easing George’s discomfort. “It’s also where we saw each other again for the first time in eight years.”

George chuckles as he remembers that moment from a few weeks ago. “Yeah and you ripped into me so hard I would have preferred skating suicides until I threw up.”

“You deserved it,” she responds, making their crowd laugh. “I was mad, but looking at you standing there did nothing but remind me how much I still love you.” The honesty in her voice punches a hole in George’s gut. “So when he told me that I was the only woman in the world he could even imagine wearing his ring? How could I say no?”

When she looks up at him again George can’t help himself and he leans down, kissing her softly. Her left hand comes up to rest on his cheek, and George feels his chest swell with pride at her subtle way of showing off the ring he put there.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Coach’s gruff voice calls out, forcing George to pull away from Y/N’s mouth. “Let’s eat.”

While the dinner plates are being cleared away and before dessert is brought out Coach stands up, silently motioning George to follow him out of the room. George sighs, tossing the napkin that was covering his lap onto the table before he leans over to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Be right back, baby,” he murmurs before standing up and following after Coach Morrison.

Once the two men have disappeared Olivia is sliding into his empty seat while Jenny and Kate, the wife of one of the defenseman, slide up behind them. When none of the women say anything Y/N shifts her gaze between them.

“What? You guys are kind of creeping me out.”

Olivia grins, waving away her concern. “Sorry, not our intention. We said it the other night at the bar, but we just wanted to say again how happy we are for you and George.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen him this happy,” Kate adds, briefly squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Normally he’d be sitting in a corner pouting at these things. And the way he was looking at you at family skate yesterday? I would have melted if my husband looked at me like that.”

“Really?” Y/N asks, a light blush coating her cheeks.

Jenny nods in agreement. “And how he watched you tell the story of your engagement? That boy is straight up obsessed with you.”

“Seriously, his heart eyes were so big people on the international space station could have seen them,” Olivia adds.

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying desperately to quell her pounding heart. Of course she’s felt the shift in her and George’s dynamic over the last week or so, but to have her thoughts confirmed by those around them? It’s validating as fuck. Not only is their plan to convince everyone that they are fake engaged working, but her plan to get George to fall in love with her for real seems to be as well.

“I can’t even believe that he broke up with you,” Kate says frowning. “Before he said that I thought he’d just been keeping you from us all these years.”

“He was young and dumb,” Y/N explains again, shrugging her shoulders. “And really, I should have fought harder for us. I knew something was wrong, but I just walked away. We’re both to blame for what happened back then.”

“If you ladies are done,” George teases, suddenly appearing behind them. “I’d like to have my fiancé,” he pauses, glaring down at Olivia. “And my seat back.”

With sheepish grins the girls vacate, and Y/N blushes as George sits back down. His arm immediately wraps around her shoulders and she leans in to his touch.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” George answers with a grin.

Her blush deepens, and George chuckles as he kisses the side of her head. He knew eavesdropping on their conversation was wrong, but when he came up and heard them talking about him he couldn’t resist. The lines of this fake relationship have been blurred for weeks, and George was not about to pass up an opportunity to find out how Y/N feels about that.

So to hear that she’s truly forgiven him for what happened back then is like a balm that soothes his soul. There would be no chance he’d get her to fall in love with him again if she still harbored any negative feelings about their past. The fact that she not only has forgiven him, but has taken some of the blame as well can only mean one thing: he’s one step closer to getting what he wants.

“So what did Coach want?” Y/N asks, desperately wanting to change the conversation.

“Nothing important,” George answers nonchalantly. “He just wanted to let me know that he’s noticed how much I’ve changed on and off the ice since being with you, and that my effort to step up hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Before Y/N can ask about the Captain situation a plate with the biggest brownie she’s ever seen is dropped off in front of her. George leans in, and the brush of his lips against her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

“Now be a good girl and eat your dessert so I can take you home and have you all to myself.”

She immediately digs in, not needing to be told twice.

When she wakes up the next morning George is already gone. But considering tonight is their first preseason game she isn’t surprised. Hockey players have always been superstitious, and George is no exception to that rule. He’d warned her the night before that she wouldn’t see him until after the game tonight, and while Y/N had been disappointed, she understood. With the possibility of being named Captain still up in the air, George’s dedication to the team is more important than ever, and she knows he’s doing everything in his power to step up and be a role model for the others.

Thankfully she has a full day of work to distract her from George’s absence, and she’s so busy thinking about what she has to do that she doesn’t notice the gift waiting for her on the kitchen island until she decides to take her lunch break in the afternoon.

There’s a neatly wrapped box that’s just begging to be opened, but she stops to read the note George left for her next to it.

Can’t wait to see you tonight. When I find you in the crowd you better be wearing this

Love, George :)

Y/N can’t contain the smile that spreads across her face as she excitedly tears into the wrapping paper, already knowing what’s waiting for her. Sure enough when she lifts the top off of the box there’s a Rebels jersey neatly folded up, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess what last name she’ll find written across the back.

A waft of George’s cologne comes off of the fabric when she lifts it up, sending a shiver down her spine as her thighs clench. Not only is George claiming her with his name, but with his scent as well. There won’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind who put that ring on her finger when she steps into the arena tonight, and it gives Y/N a thrill knowing that was George’s intention.

She puts the jersey back in the box, pulling out her phone to send a text to George.

Y/N: thank you for the gift. Good luck tonight <3

It’s not until a few hours later, when Y/N is getting ready to leave that she gets a response.

George: you’re welcome, baby - im counting down the hours until i get to see my last name on your back

George: and i don’t need luck when i’ve got you in the crowd cheering me on

His words send a thrill through Y/N and she has to take several deep breaths to calm down. She’s already amped up from the anticipation of seeing George out on the ice for the first time in years, and his text has only brought it up tenfold.

Luckily Olivia’s text letting her know that she’s here to pick her up comes through, breaking Y/N from her thoughts of what her and George might get up to after the game. Because if it’s anything like they used to do in high school, the jersey she’s wearing won’t be staying on for long.

The family suite is already starting to fill up when Y/N, Olivia and Jenny show up, even though there’s still an hour until puck drop. Olivia has insisted they get there in time to watch warm ups, and the idea of watching George practically hump the ice as he stretches was too enticing to pass up.

“C’mon, let’s grab seats up by the glass. I want a front row look at Thomas’ ass in those hockey pants,” Olivia declares with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“Do you ever get jealous that your boyfriend has a better ass than you?” Jenny asks as they weave their way through the crowd towards the front of the box. Both girls laugh at her comment, and Jenny just shrugs her shoulders. “C’mon, we’re all thinking it. I was just brave enough to say it.”

“George does have a nice ass,” Y/N agrees as they claim three seats. “But every time I tell him he just responds by saying how nice my ass is, so no, I’ve never been jealous.”

Olivia laughs so loudly the people surrounding turn to look and Jenny takes the opportunity to slap Y/N on the ass.

“Fuck you, bitch,” Jenny responds, though there’s no malice in her voice. “That’s because you actually have an ass. I swear it looks like I have a piece of cardboard down the back of my pants.”

“And yet two weeks ago Adam ran into a wall because he was two busy watching your ass to pay attention to where he was going,” Olivia reminds her. “It doesn’t matter how much junk is in your trunk as long as your man appreciates what you’ve got.”

All three women agree on that, and they leave their bags on their seats so they can mingle and grab some food and drinks before the action starts. By the time they make it back for warmups the suite is full, and Y/N is practically on the edge of her seat as the players make their way out onto the ice.

Her eyes immediately find George and she watches in rapt awe as he effortlessly moves across the ice. Of course George has always been an amazing player, but it’s clear his time in the NHL has only sharpened his skills, and Y/N is filled with pride as he takes a shot on goal and the puck hits the back of the net with such ease it’s like it took no effort at all.

But then he drops down to the ice to stretch, and Y/N is filled with something else as she watches his knees spread. He bounces up and down slightly as he stretches his hamstrings, and Y/N is practically drooling. Something as innocent as stretching looks downright erotic, and her mind whirls as she imagines laying underneath George while he does those moves.

“You know, I think I get the whole puck bunny thing,” Y/N says suddenly, her eyes still drawn to the way George moves as he starts to skate around again. Her attraction to George never had anything to do with him being a hockey player, the big muscles and brute strength were just kind of an added bonus.

But after watching those big, broad men practically give a magic mike show she can understand why there’s a whole genre of women who’s only goal in life is to fuck as many hockey player as possible. Because god damn, if George wasn’t already coming home with her tonight she’d be formulating a plan to get that man in her bed.

“Same,” Jenny agrees, her voice breathy.

“Is it inappropriate to admit you’re horny while sitting in a room full of people?” Olivia asks, breaking the girls from their trance as they laugh.

“Probably,” Y/N answers, finally tearing her gaze away from the ice as the players head back to the locker room. “But if it’s wrong, well then, I don’t wanna be right.”

Even though it’s only preseason, the game is intense from the first whistleblow. The Rebels are playing the team they’d lost to in the playoffs last season, and from her conversations with George Y/N knows the guys are out for blood. They want every team in the league to know that they’re primed and ready, and they’ll do whatever it takes to make it all the way to the Cup.

The first period is winding down without a score from either team, and Y/N is practically holding her breath as George jumps over the boards to rejoin the game for his next shift. His skates are barely on the ice when Adam passes him the puck, and George takes off towards the other teams’ net.

He passes the puck to Jason, the right wing who was recently promoted to first line, landing it against his stick with ease. George manages to deke around Tampa’s defenseman and he slaps his stick against the ice to signal Jason to pass the puck back.

The second the puck hits his stick George repositions himself and fires it off, and it feels like the entire room is silent as they watch it sail right over the shoulder of Tampa’s goalie and slam into the back of the net.

The suite erupts into cheers as the buzzer rings out, and the girls are shouting as they jump up and down in celebration. George’s teammates on the ice all crowd around him, but as they separate George turns in the direction of the suite, and Y/N swears their eyes connect as he raises his stick, pointing it directly at her.

“What’s he saying?” Olivia leans in to ask as they all watch his mouth move.

And even though Y/N can’t make out the words, she knows without a doubt what George has just said. Because since their relationship began in middle school he’s done the exact same thing after every single goal.

“That was for you,” she answers, voice tight with emotion.

“He dedicated his goal to you? That’s so fucking cute,” Olivia squeals. “Thomas never dedicates his goals to me.”

“That’s because he’s the fucking goalie, Liv,” Jenny huffs.

Y/N ignores the argument that proceeds, too busy watching George battle Tampa’s center for the puck after the face off. She’s in awe that not only did George remember their tradition, but he just did it live on national television in front of a packed audience.

All her fears that George’s blatant display of affection was just a fluke, that he was just caught up in the moment are completely erased in the third period, when after scoring the game winning goal George shakes off his teammates so that he can raise his stick to Y/N and do it again.

After the game the girl’s had met their men outside of the locker room, and when George took Y/N into his arms he’d whispered that he wouldn’t mind missing out on the celebration and he’d take her home instead. And of course Y/N had been tempted, after watching him on the ice all night and dedicating his two goals to her she was more than ready to get him alone.

But the guys who already trickled out of the locker room were calling George’s name, and Y/N knows how important it is for George to be there for the guys both on and off the ice as he strives to be captain.

So instead they’re at Maynards, which after the team’s win is practically at capacity. Fans and puck bunnies are everywhere and Y/N can’t help but feel bothered by their presence. George is hanging out by the pool tables with his team while Y/N has been sitting at the bar with Olivia and Jenny, and every few minutes she can feel her eyes trailing over to him to make sure the women in the bar are keeping their distance.

This is totally new territory for Y/N, and she hates how insecure she feels. When she and George were together before puck bunnies weren’t a concern. George was so focused on his dreams of the NHL and their relationship that he didn’t ever go out with the guys on the team. After a home game he’d end up snuggled in bed with Y/N, and after an away game he locked himself in his hotel room to call her.

It doesn’t help that she knows George has been one to indulge in puck bunnies in the past, not that she judges him for it at all. He was free to do whatever and whoever he wanted while they were broken up. But now they’re in this really weird space. They’re not really together, and George certainly could leave this bar with Y/N and then meet up with some random girl later. She doesn’t think he would do that anyway, considering how well things have been going with them and he didn’t even want to go out in the first place.

But it’s easy to feel insecure when you’re surrounded by beautiful women whose only goal is to get your fiancé in bed.

“Do they ever bother you?” Y/N asks, gesturing around the bar. “All of the girls?”

“Hell yes,” Olivia answers honestly. “Mostly because a lot of the girls don’t give a shit if the player they’re after is in a relationship or not. Like I don’t care if you’re just trying to find some good dick, but at least stick to girl code.”

“Tell me about it,” Jenny adds. “One time a girl tried to stick her hand down Adam’s pants while I was sitting on his lap. Like bitch, read the fucking room.”

Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “Jesus, that’s crazy. So how are you guys so calm sitting over here while the guys are on their own? Especially knowing the lengths some will go to sleep with a hockey player.”

“Trust,” Olivia answers simply and Jenny nods in agreement. “Do you trust George?”

“With my life,” Y/N responds without hesitation.

Olivia shrugs, smiling at Y/N. “Then let the puck bunnies try and get him into bed. Because you know that the only girl he’ll actually be going home with is you.”

Her words do quell some of the nerves rattling around Y/N’s stomach, and she takes another sip of her drink, immersing herself into Olivia and Jenny’s conversation. She even keeps herself from checking on George, trusting that Olivia was correct. Y/N doesn’t have to trust all of those women to stay away from George, she has to trust that George would never give some puck bunny a second glance.

Several minutes later Y/N and Jenny are talking about work when Olivia comes back from the bathroom with a weird look on her face.

“Okay, remember all that shit I said earlier about trust and puck bunnies and whatever.” There’s apprehension in her voice, and all Y/N can manage is a curt nod. “Okay well fuck all of that shit because there’s some puck bunny rubbing all over George and I think you need to go stake your claim on your man.”

Y/N swivels in her seat and anger rises in her throat at what she sees. Sure enough George is leaning against the side of a pool table, and there’s a bottle blonde pressing up against him, one of her hands twirling a piece of her hair while the other rests on George’s shoulder. To be fair to George he’s not touching her at all, one of his hands is gripping a beer bottle while the other rests on the pool table and Y/N can tell by the look on his face that he’s wildly uncomfortable and trying to find some way out of the interaction.

Jealousy quickly overtakes the anger as the puck bunny trails her hand up George’s neck to tangle her fingers in his hair, and before Y/N knows what she’s doing she’s up out of her seat and heading across the bar. Like hell if she’s gonna stand there while some random woman touches what belongs to her. Over her dead fucking body.

Like they’re tied together by an invisible string, George’s eyes snap to Y/N’s as she approaches and a look of relief takes over his features.

“Hey baby,” he greets, and when the woman looks over at Y/N George uses the distraction to push her to the side. “Are you ready to go?”

In lieu of answering his question Y/N shoves herself into the small space separating George from the puck bunny, wrapping one arm around his waist as the other grips his neck and she pulls him down into a kiss. She moans as George kisses her back, but she doesn’t relinquish control. Because this isn’t just a kiss, it’s a message. Y/N wants all of the bunnies to know that George belongs to her, and their days of coaxing him into their bed are over.

When the need to breathe becomes too overwhelming Y/N finally breaks their kiss, but the grip she has on George’s neck keeps their faces close together.

“Take me home?” she asks, just loud enough so the woman who is still hovering nearby can hear.

George is sure that the flicker of lust in Y/N’s eyes is reflected in his own, and he gives her a curt nod. “Of course, baby. It’s time for us to go to bed.”

Too bad sleep is the last thing on George’s mind.

George has her pressed up against the front door as soon as it’s closed behind them.

Neither of them said a word on the drive home, the air was so thick with want they were too afraid words might ruin what was bound to happen once they were home. Because that kiss at the bar was unlike any of the ones they’d shared since this arrangement started, it shattered the line between fake and real that they’ve been skating around for weeks and now there’s no going back.

George has his mouth on Y/N before she even has a chance to breathe. His teeth nip at her bottom lip before his tongue soothes it, hand gripping the back of her neck to angle her head in order to kiss her even deeper. His kiss is possessive, claiming her just as her kiss at the bar had claimed him, and Y/N is sure that without George’s body holding her to the door she’d be a puddle on the ground.

“I can’t fucking get enough of you, baby,” George growls into her skin as his lips kiss and nip down her neck. “I’m fucking addicted to you, Y/N. Your smell, your taste, the fucking noises you make for me.”

“George,” Y/N gasps as his teeth dig into the flesh at the juncture of her neck, his lips sucking hard enough to leave a bruise that is sure to last for weeks.

“My name sounds so good coming from those lips, baby.”

George recaptures her mouth, using the hand that’s not still gripping the back of Y/N’s neck to grab a hold of her thigh. He hitches it up around his hip and does the same to her other leg before placing his hand under Y/N’s ass for support.

She breaks their kiss as George starts to carry them down the hall, her teeth nipping at the skin of his jaw before her lips soothe the pain with soft kisses. As he pushes into their bedroom Y/N’s nose finds the base of his throat and her eyes flutter shut as she takes a deep inhale of his scent. It’s his cologne mixed with something Y/N can only describe as George, and its familiarity instantly soothes any nerves she may have.��

It’s a stark reminder that this is George, her George, and she knows no matter what is about to happen she’s in good hands.

George chuckles as Y/N takes another deep breath and he sets her down gently on the end of their bed. “Do I smell bad or something? I promise I showered.”

His tease breaks some of the tension, and Y/N bites her lip as she looks up at George, shaking her head fondly. “Not at all, I was just thinking about how so much has changed and yet you still smell the same.”

George’s hand finds the back of Y/N’s neck again, thumb rubbing circles against the side of her throat. “You gave me that cologne, for Christmas, freshman year of high school. I’ve worn it every day since because it reminds me of you.”

Before Y/N has a chance to respond George is leaning in to kiss her again and she’s thankful for the distraction, since she’s definitely not in the headspace to be uncking that. Nope, George’s revelation will have to wait until tomorrow, when he isn’t kissing her breathless and her cunt isn’t soaking the inside of her thighs.

He pushes her up the bed as they kiss, crawling so that his body covers Y/N’s once he has her laying back against the pillows. Her thighs spread wide, making room for George’s broad frame to settle between them. His cock, hard and pressing against the zipper of his jeans, presses right against her pussy and George just barely grinds his hips to make them both moan.

“Tell me now if you want me to stop,” George pants as he breaks their kiss. He keeps his eyes focused on Y/N’s, needing to see that she wants this just as much as him. “If you don’t want this to happen tell me now and I’ll walk away and take the coldest fucking shower known to man.”

Y/N returns George’s gaze as her fingers twist in the hair on the back of his head and she gives the strands a sharp tug. “Please, George. I need you.”

That’s all the confirmation George needs, making quick work of their clothes. He kisses every inch of skin he reveals to the point that Y/N is writhing underneath him and her pussy throbs, begging for attention.

Her panties are the last thing to go, and as soon as she’s bare George’s fingers find her slit, dragging through the wetness before lightly circling her clit.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N gasps, hips eagerly pushing into George’s touch. “I’m so ready for you George, please.”

George sinks two fingers into her, cock twitching at the way her cunt sucks them in. He curls his fingers, drawing a moan from Y/N’s lips as they brush against her g-spot. “Fuck, baby. I wanted to take my time but I need to be inside of you.”

He sucks the fingers that were just inside Y/N clean, groaning around the digits as he tastes her for the first time in years. “Fuck, you taste,” he trails off, making Y/N whine impatiently.

“Like what?” she pants, dragging George’s mouth to hers so she can kiss him.

“Like mine,” George growls into their kiss, dipping his tongue into Y/N’s mouth so she can taste herself too.

When he goes to reach for a condom Y/N stops him, intertwining their fingers. “I’m clean, and on birth control so you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“Shit,” George groans, his head dropping so his forehead rests against her’s. “You’re telling me I can fuck you bare?”

“Please,” Y/N confirms with a nod. “I wanna feel you, all of you.”

Any fear George had about Y/N not wanting him the way he wants her has been thrown out of the window. She’s the only woman he’s ever forgone a condom with, and it’s going to stay that way if he has anything to say about it.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” he teases, notching the tip of his cock against her pussy. He thrusts his hips gently, making them both moan as he coats himself in her slick. “I’m clean too,” he confirms, nudging his nose against her’s. “You’re the only person I’ve never used anything with.”

Something so simple makes her heart soar, and Y/N tips her chin up so George will kiss her. Knowing that she’s about to have George in a way no other woman has is intoxicating. No matter how many women he’s fucked, Y/N is the only one that he has given all of himself to, further confirming what she’s suspected for days.

Whatever is going on between them has turned into something real, and it’s looking like a real possibility that George loves her too.

“Oh my god,” Y/N moans as George finally starts to slowly push inside, her legs wrapping around his waist to encourage him to move faster. “You feel so fucking good, George, please.”

George groans as Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, her tight heat making his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Jesus christ, you’re so fucking tight baby. This pretty fucking pussy is choking my cock.”

When he’s halfway in his hips suddenly pull back, and the whine Y/N lets out quickly turns into a moan when George suddenly fucks back into her, not stopping until his thighs are pressed against the back of her’s and he’s buried inside of her completely.

His cock presses right against her g-spot, and Y/N feels electric zips of pleasure radiating through her body despite the fact that George has yet to move. Her muscles squeeze around him, and George buries a groan into her neck.

“Fuck, baby. I need a second or I’m going to cum way to fucking soon,” he growls, nipping at her neck. “Your pussy is so fucking tight it’s driving me insane.”

Y/N squirms underneath him, desperately trying to get him to move. “Please George, ‘m so fucking full of your cock, it feels so good. I need you to move.”

“Good fucking girl, begging for me” George praises as he finally starts to thrust, drawing a long, breathy moan from Y/N’s lips. Her pussy clenches as the praise, and George drives his hips even harder. “You like being my good girl, don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” Y/N gasps, her back arching as she starts to meet George’s thrusts. “Wanna be your good girl, George, please.”

George rests all of his weight onto his left arm and presses his thumb against Y/N’s mouth. “Be a good girl and suck my thumb, baby. Get it nice and wet so I can touch your pussy.”

She immediately complies, taking the digit between her lips and sucking hard. Her tongue wraps around it, getting it nice and soaked so George will finally touch her throbbing clit.

“Good girl,” he praises again as his thumb slips from her mouth. He immediately presses it to her clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts.

Y/N’s toes curl where they rest against George’s back, the familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach already building brighter as he inches her closer and closer to her orgasm. “I’m so fucking close, George, please.”

George readjusts so one of Y/N’s legs is slung over his shoulder, allowing him to fuck back into her even deeper. “Go on, baby. Soak my fucking cock with your cum.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before Y/N is falling over the edge, thighs trembling as pleasure rocks through her body. George’s name falls from her mouth before he kisses her, swallowing every single noise she makes so that he can keep it for himself.

“Fuck I’m close,” George growls when their kiss breaks, the way Y/N’s cunt pulses around him driving him towards the edge of his own climax. “Gonna cum inside you, baby. Claim this fucking cunt because it’s mine. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes, yours George, please.” Y/N grabs George’s chin so he can’t look away. “Cum inside me, please.”

Her plea pushes him over the edge, and George buries his face in Y/N’s neck, letting her body absorb his pleasure as he pulses deep inside of her. George sucks and nips at her skin as his orgasm starts to fade, slowly resting his body against Y/N’s as they both catch their breath.

They kiss slowly as George softens inside of her, finally pulling out when the feeling gets to be too much. Neither of them says anything as George pulls away, Y/N watching from the bed as George grabs a cloth from the ensuite. Once he’s back in bed and has wiped their mess away, Y/N still hasn’t found the right words. So she lets him pull her into his arms as they settle under the duvet, the steady pounding of his heart lulling her to sleep.

George lays awake for hours after Y/N drifts off, still wound up from the game and everything that happened after. He kisses the side of her neck softly, dragging his fingers up and down Y/N’s bare arm. He can’t remember the last time he felt this content and he just wants to savor this moment for a little bit longer.

Sex with other women has always been a means to an end for George. He was horny, the girl was willing, and in the end he’d go back home to his own bed satisfied. There was never this connection that he feels with Y/N, this deep need to take care of his partner, this reluctance to let them go. It isn’t just sex with her, as corny as it sounds it’s making love, and there’s no way George can ever go back to the way it was before.

If his plan doesn’t work and Y/N truly doesn’t ever return his feelings, she’s well and truly ruined him for any other woman.

The thought of Y/N walking away from him, from this makes his stomach drop, and he finally has to confront the fact that his time is running out and it’s a real possibility that he may never get to hold her like this again.

Because he lied to her last night.

At dinner, when Coach Morrison pulled him aside he didn’t just want to talk to George about how he’s noticing how different he is now and the progress he’s made. He sat George down in his office to let him know that a decision about Captain had finally been made.

George is officially the next Captain of the Chicago Rebels.

The news had immediately brought a burst of joy to him, knowing that all of his hard work with the team hasn’t gone unnoticed. But it was swiftly replaced with fear and sadness. Because if George is Captain, technically his arrangement with Y/N can end. She’d done what she promised and is free to head back home and live her life as she was before. They can go back to just being a part of each other’s pasts, instead of building towards the future George so desperately wants.

He’s barely put his plan into action, and he’d hoped he’d have more time to get Y/N to fall back in love with him. Even though things between them are clearly going well, and every day their relationship feels less and less fake, he’s not sure it’s enough to get her to stay here with him. George is ready to go to the courthouse tomorrow and turn this fake engagement into a real marriage, but he’s not quite sure that Y/N is on the same page.

Which scares the shit out of him.

Luckily Coach doesn’t plan on making the announcement to the rest of the team until the season officially starts, wanting to present George with a new jersey just before the first game.

He can only hope that’s enough time, because a life without Y/N is no longer an option.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fan fiction #harry potter au #harry potter #gw #golden

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differenteagletragedy · 1 month

Text

Baxter sat in his car for a long while, thinking. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, leaning back against the headrest, absentmindedly fiddling with the radio -- anything to slow his mind down.

He was in the parking lot of a dance studio. A dance studio where he'd signed up for lessons. Lessons that were set to begin in just a few minutes.

Everything had happened so quickly -- the month before, he'd reconnected with his old flame from the summer he spent in Sunset Bird five years ago, and in doing so, he'd suddenly found himself thrust into a friend group. His former fling had ended up with an old friend, Derek, who he got along with swimmingly. Cove had warmed up to him, Terry was, as always, easy to get along with, and Miranda was getting more comfortable around him. Xavier, his own professional connection, had also turned into someone he could call a friend. It was an incredible shock to the system, but a nice one.

During the painful process of opening himself back up to things he'd thought he'd never have, Baxter began realizing just how much he'd closed himself off. His life had become a series of routines with no real joy in them, and he'd pushed away everything that could have possibly made him happy because he believed he didn't deserve it. A big thing, of course, was dancing -- it had once meant so much to him, but he'd let it go, along with everything else.

Now, he wanted it back.

It was funny how fast things could change, but still, he couldn't undo all the emotional bindings that had taken him years to put on himself overnight. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was just a few minutes until the lesson was supposed to begin, and began thinking of reasons not to go inside. He'd almost convinced himself when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw a text from Xavier: "You can do it! Proud of you!"

They could have been being cheeky, he wasn't sure, but still, it felt good. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been proud of him, if they ever had been, and Xavier was right -- he could do it. He could do this.

Before he could change his mind, he pulled his keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car.

Baxter made it inside with just a little time to spare, and he took a moment to take in his classmates. He'd signed up for the first lesson that worked with his schedule, a beginners ballroom class. He wasn't a beginner, of course, but he wanted to dance, and he knew his skills would be rusty.

There were several older people, many of them talking in groups. Some younger couples were there, and he saw a few shiny engagement rings -- he could spot soon-to-be-married couples a mile away at this point.

And then there was you.

You were the only other person there without a partner, so he made his way over to you -- of course you'd be paired together, so, ever the gentleman, he wanted to introduce himself.

There wasn't much of a chance to chat before the instructor began the class, but he learned a few things about you then. One, that you were, in fact, there alone -- you'd recently moved to the city and you didn't know anyone. Two, that you had no dancing experience whatsoever. And three, that you were completely and utterly charming.

If Baxter had been paired with anyone else, there's a chance he may have regretted taking the beginners class. The first order of business was mastering a simple box step, something he could almost literally do in his sleep. But as you put your hand in his, only meeting his eyes briefly so that you could watch your feet instead, he didn't have any regrets.

By the end of the class, he'd lost count of how many times you'd stepped on his toes, and his palm was damp with the sweat from yours. But his hand had gotten comfortable in its place on your back, and your laughter rang sweetly in his ears.

He was happy.

The instructor ended things far too soon for his liking -- after mastering the box step, or attempting to master it, the class moved on to the basics of the foxtrot, and after a few songs, class was dismissed.

"Thanks for dancing with me," you told him, stepping back from him and giving him a grin. "And sorry about your feet."

"It's quite all right," he said, matching your smile. "I've been hurt far worse."

"Still, maybe I should give you my number? In case you need to bill me for any medical expenses."

His breath hitched, and he felt his cheeks getting warm. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for someone to flirt with him, far from it, but what was unusual was that he liked it. He liked it very much.

"That would be smart," he responded, pulling out his phone. He handed it to you, and as you were adding yourself to his list of contacts, he added, "Perhaps it would also be prudent to meet again, just to discuss what's happened so that we could avoid any legal action?"

"Legal action?!" you exclaimed. He didn't know you that well, not yet, but it seemed like you were biting back a smirk. "Surely we can come to an agreement before it gets that far."

"We could discuss it over dinner. Are you free tonight?" he asked.

The joke was over, but you were still smiling, and so was he. You stood like that for a moment, not paying any mind to your classmates trickling out of the studio until you were alone together.

"I am," you told him, your voice a bit softer.

"It's a date then."

After making the plans, you finally parted ways. He went back to his car, a bounce in his step that wasn't there earlier. When he got in, he pulled out his phone again, scrolling through his contacts. It had gotten so much fuller than it had been just a few months ago. It was a good feeling.

He looked at your name, knowing that it was too soon to text you but finding himself wanting to talk to you again anyway. Instead, he pulled up his texts with Xavier and typed out a quick message:

"I did it."

#our life beginnings and always #baxter ward #our life #olba #our life baxter #olba baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x reader #baxter x you #baxter ward x you #baxter ward x mc #baxter ward x reader

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lilysbookshelf987 · 3 months

Text

New camper: Percy Jackson x reader (daughter of apollo)

A/n: thank you so much for giving this a read! This is my first time writing for the PJO universe so let me know if you like it! Requests are open! No NSFW or Smut! Enjoy

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

"Good morning" Percy said tiredly, greeting his best friend Grover at the dining pavilion, taking a seat next to him.

"Morning" Grover replied, "hey did you see Annabeth on your way here? She's usually the first one here and I haven't seen her yet"

As if almost on cue she was walking towards the boys, an excited smirk painted across her face.

"Camp Half-Blood has a new camper!"

"What?!" replied Percy

"She showed up late last night, all alone. Chiron told me she had been hurt pretty badly but he took her into the infirmary and gave her some Ambrosia"

"She took it? So, she's definitely a half-blood?" Percy asked

"Yep! We should be meeting her later today" Annabeth was ecstatic, she loved new campers!

--time skip--

As the day went on there was still no sight of the new camper. Word had made its way around camp and people began to take their guesses as to who was her parent.

"I hope she's in our cabin!" A child of Aphrodite had said

"No! I bet she HAS to be in ours! Showing up without a Satyr by her side means she's a warrior"an Ares kid chimed

"As long as she's not in ours I dont care" a tired looking Hermes kid said.

It was almost dinner time when Chiron had found Percy, sparring with someone from the Ares cabin.

"Percy can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Yeah sure" he said, removing his helmet and recapping his sword.

"Im sure you've heard we've had a new camper join us."

"Yeah it's all over camp" he replied

"Ah yes. Well let's say she hasn't been thrilled to learn about her new family. Reminds me a lot of you when you first came here"

Percy thought back to his first few days at camp. He was confused, scared, angry, and very much overwhelmed.

"I was wondering if you could help ease her mind by speaking to her. You understand what she's feeling better than I can."

"And im not half horse" Percy smiled

"Yes there is that" Chiron chuckled

"Alright I want to meet her!" Percy agreed. He really did want to help, but he also knew how jealous Annabeth would be that he met her first. The two walked into the big house and there she was, staring down at her feet.

"Y/N, this is Percy, son of Poseidon. Percy this is Y/N. I'm sure you two will get long swimmingly" Chiron chuckled at his own joke, "I will give you two some privacy" with that, he left the room. Leaving the two teenagers alone.

An awkward silence filled the room, when finally Y/N broke the silence.

"Son of Poseidon, huh?" she asked

"That's me" he smiled, proud of the title he held.

"That's crazy, the gods don't exist!"

"They do exist. I know it all feels a bit insane at first but-"

"A bit?! My whole life i've had these things coming after me and I didn't understand why. I thought I was insane and seeing things, but apparently that's normal?! And my dad? The reason he's neglected me my whole life was because he was a god?! There's just no way"

"Hey, it's gonna be ok. I know how you feel. I felt like that when I first got here. All my life my dad wasn't someone I had thought about much because I had my mom, and thats all I needed. Then I find out that he's now the most important thing in my life? I had so many emotions, but if you just give this place a chance? I promise everything gets a lot less scary"

This seem to get to the girl. She started to tear up.

"Ok, i'll try." she whispered

"I'll show you around and it'll all be ok, I promise."

The two made their way around camp, Y/N was mostly silent. "The sun is so warm here, it's not like that where I'm from"

"Everything is a little bit stronger here."

"I can tell" she smiled

"So, do you have any idea who your dad might be?" Percy asked, careful not to poke at the sensitive subject.

"I think but I'm not sure. My mom used to talk about Apollo, a way she never did about other Gods"

"Ok then...then we have to find a way for him to see you! If he see's you, he'll claim you!"

"Yeah but how?"

"Gods dont claim you because they feel like it, you have to work for it" Annabeth said, inviting herself to the conversation.

"Y/N this is Annabeth, daughter of Athena"

"Hey" Y/n said

"Percy have you taken her to the archery field? Apollo kids thrive there"

"No I didn't"

"Seaweed brain c'mon!" Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Lets go" she led the two there and put a bow and arrow in Y/N's hands. The girl had fired it easily and hit the bullseye.

"Beginners luck?" y/n asked

"Go again" Chiron said, but before she could something came flying down at her, she shot it down easily.

"That could've killed us" Percy said, mouth agape, "and you shot it down with ease!" he said

"Look!" One of the campers said

Y/N was becoming engulfed in a bright light and a sun appeared over her head. She was now an official resident of cabin 7

#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth pjo #apollo #greek gods #pjo x reader

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

Hi! Your account is so great and I really appreciate what you guys do here.

Im not sure if there are many of these out yet, but I’m looking for good fics of what season 3 could look like. Like the events of 1 and 2 are the same but then we get to see them dealing with that ending.

Thanks so much!

Hello! Here are some series three speculation fics...

Armageddon Part 2: The Second Coming by Halfling (M)

Takes place immediately following the end of season 2 of the show. Crowley just wants to be left alone but he keeps getting interrupted. Heaven is MIA, Hell is up in arms, and no one can get a moment's peace.

what we could have been (and what we one day shall be) by meetmeatthecoda (E)

The next time Crowley sees Aziraphale after the day he broke his heart, entered a blinding white lift, and left him behind, it’s in almost the exact same place. Three interminable months later. That awful day, driving aimless and slow in a silent Bentley, Crowley wasn’t sure if he would ever see Aziraphale again, let alone so soon, considering the way they left things. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care if he ever clapped eyes on his white blonde curls, steel gray eyes, and ridiculous tartan bow tie ever again, but the tears threatening to spill out from behind his sunglasses betrayed his true feelings. (Not to mention the random but persistent spots of bright yellow paint on his car’s otherwise pure black sheen, ruthlessly rubbed out with an index finger the temperature of an open flame.)

Bad Omen by lavender_mo0n (T)

There is a common misconception that owls are a bad omen, a warning sign for death and destruction that is to come. On the contrary, a better way to describe it is to say that they are a symbol of change. That change may come in the form of death, but perhaps that is more in reference to the death of life as we know it. And perhaps a certain angel is about to experience a ~very~ big change.

On the Side of the World by profdanglais (M)

The demon Crowley has gone rogue. Precisely what “rogue” looks like on a demon who was never anyone’s idea of “manageable” is something neither Heaven nor Hell is currently equipped to deal with. Hell is rebuilding and Heaven, under the auspices of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, is focused on spreading the Word of their prophet, known as the Second Coming--of what, exactly, remains unspecified. Neither side seems to remember who Crowley used to be, nor have they bothered to change the passwords. The Metatron has no interest in demons, rogue or otherwise. His Plan is going swimmingly and he couldn't be more pleased. Now if only he could figure out who’s responsible for all these unauthorised miracles that just keep happening, far and wide, on planet Earth.

Of Gardens and the Second Coming by Serenity_Black (E)

Starting moments after S2E6... The new Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is in Heaven, juggling the Second Coming at The Metatron's behest. Crowley is wrestling with his romantic realizations, and losing. What is it going to take to get our lovestruck beings back on track so that they can save our favorite Libra and all its inhabitants? And where are God and Satan in all of this? There’s a lot of ground to cover before this ends, as it was always going to, in a garden.

The Better Book: A Brand New Testament for the End of Days by HollyGhostLightly (T)

The Second Coming is underway and it turns out there are competing plans to determine the fate of the world! An unofficial/unauthorized Season 3 of Good Omens… to stop the bleeding. 💔 Excerpt: Aziraphale frowned as his intelligence was insulted once again, “How can you expect us to put our faith in something that lacks any detail whatsoever?!” “Let’s try to remember the plan is still technically ineffable. I’m doing my best to make it effable for you guys but some things are obviously outside of my abilities.” The angel growled, “Oh, the plan is effable alright! If you ask me, it’s completely fucked!!” “Real nice language, coming from an angel! You’re putting money in that thwart jar!”

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #fix it #good omens s3 speculation #mod d

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lambtotheslaughterr · 6 months

Text

The Day The World Ended : Rise -- Part One

A Rafe Cameron Series

Chapter One

WC: 7.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO

FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

Your body moved with the rhythm of the dark wave music flowing throughout the party. Hot pink, neon yellow, & vibrant purple colors danced across the sea of people. You could feel yourself smiling in spite of the sweat coating your arms & legs. The alcohol that flowed through your body kept you cool & unfeeling of the stickiness that comes with an early summer in Florida.

It was so incredibly natural for you to move your limbs, waist, hips in time with the beat. A good party was where you thrived the most. Even when you opened your eyes & couldn’t make out any of your friends’ faces or see your boyfriend nearby you didn’t panic. Losing yourself among strangers & classmates alike was part of the fun. After all, finals week was over. Summer was here. College was almost over, just one year left. You weren’t the only one celebrating.

Everywhere you looked, you saw everyone wearing a shade of pink. It was Wednesday, & your boyfriend’s fraternity was throwing a ‘We Wear Pink On Wednesday’s’ to kick-off the summer break. The outfit you wore captured your personality well. Bold, sexy, confident. Dancing in your stiletto heels, rubbing your hands along the sides of your body, feeling as if everyone had their eyes on you, it kept you going. You could dance all night.

As you swayed, you felt warm hands fall on your hips. You grinned knowingly to yourself, pressing your back to the chest behind you. Sayyed nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair getting caught up in the strands. You giggled, spinning around to face him. He fought with your hair & you helped him remove it, trading smiles.

The music continued & the two of you danced for a bit longer with one another. This was one of the reasons you & Sayyed were so good together. He was a dance major & you just loved to dance every chance you had. Your energy was unmatched & your body language with one another couldn’t be stopped. He leaned into you & you let him, bending ever so slightly, looking as if he was melting into you. It was magnetic, seductive, empowering.

Once the next song finished though, Sayyed grabbed your hand & pulled you away from the main living room of the frat. Every corner you turned there was more & more people. Pi Kappa Alpha never failed at throwing a party & drawing the masses in. You were a member of their sister sorority, Alpha Delta Pi. You had been coming to PKA’s parties since rush week freshman year. It’s where you & Sayyed met.

Turning one last corner, Sayyed brought you into the kitchen which was just as crowded as the rest of the house. In here, however, were your friends. On one end of a beer pong table two of Sayyed’s frat brothers—Luka, Kai, & Bear—were losing pretty badly with more than half their cups still on the table. At the winning end of the table was Adrianna & Rafe. Nuha, Sayyed’s sister, stood behind them, roasting the opposing team.

On the sidelines, you marched up to Millie & Micah, your closest friends & roommates. Becoming a junior at the university had been the best thing to happen since you were finally able to move out of the sorority house. Millie had been your friend from high school & Micah was her bed buddy. The three of you got along swimmingly.

“Oh, c’mon guys!” Rafe teased, pointing at the boys across from him, “You’re getting your ass beat by a girl.”

Adrianna grinned proudly at that. Out of all the men at the table, Adrianna was certainly the toughest. She graduated high school a year early & applied to the NROTC. It was only in the last year that she began majoring in nursing. Medical, warfare, you name it & Adrianna could excel in it.

“She’s not a girl!” Bear, nicknamed as such for his appearance, playfully argued back, “She’s a goddamn military weapon!”

“Awwh, Boo Bear,” Nuha cooed, narrowing her tantalizing green eyes glowing mischievously, “Is mommy gonna need to read you to sleep tonight?”

“Only if you’re mommy.” Bear returned, winking, his flirtatious banter towards Nuha was never ending.

“Alright.” Sayyed interrupted, tossing Bear a warning, “That’s enough, make the shot. I want next game.”

Rafe & Adrianna cleared the table swiftly with their skills. Sayyed began re-setting, catching your attention, “Teammate?”

You made a face of disgust, “Yuck, no thanks. I’m a lousy shot, you know that. I’ll just be over here, ya know, drinking.”

Sayyed rolled his eyes but nodded, kissing you once before you crossed to the other side of the kitchen to peruse the alcohol options.

“What’s your poison tonight?” Rafe came up beside you, mirroring your perusal. You shrugged. Usually your go to was a cheaply mixed cocktail but you were thinking of switching to beer to avoid the intense sugar headache you’d surely get the next morning.

“What are you thinking?” You asked. Rafe Cameron was you in the male form. He too knew how to party, enjoyed being the center of attention, & could drink well into the daylight hours. You two bonded quickly over loud music, drunken fits of laughter, & rampant parties over the years.

“I’m just gonna do some shots. I don’t want to use my brain any more than I have to.” You laughed in agreement, watching as he poured you two a couple.

Rafe handed you the overflowing shot of tequila & you leaned forward to shoot it back, careful to not spill any on your clothes—though you were hardly wearing any.

“Woo!” You & Rafe yelled in unison, feeling the smooth burn of the tequila slip down your throat. He raised his hand, “Up high.”

When you went to smack his hand he lowered it, wiggling his brows, “Too slow, down low.”

“Fuck off.” You smiled pretending to turn & walk away. Then, before he could catch on to you, you spun around & smacked his hand.

“Goddamnit.” He gritted, shaking his head.

“Too slow.” You mocked, slipping away from him before he could try to out smart you. Along the way you snagged a beer out of a cooler & returned to Millie & the beer pong game.

The infamous trio lost yet another game as the Rahal’s kicked their ass. Sayyed & Nuha were as thick as thieves, making you envious of never having any siblings growing up. Your dad was a pilot, gone long & often. Your mom was self-medicated & kept to the dimly lit confines of her bedroom. College had been the long awaited escape you always dreamed of, & you finally found your own family on that campus.

It was almost one in the morning when you found yourself sitting on the front steps leading up to the frat house, kicking your heels off. You felt good. The alcohol left you buzzing. The only thing that would make the night even better at the moment would be if the sprinklers were turned on so you could run shamelessly through them.

People were spread out on the front lawn. Houses all up & down Greek row had people spilling out onto the street, stumbling everywhere. You laughed to yourself, enjoying the freedom & adventure that college was. All these people, just as drunk as you if not more so, hopping from one party to the next, totally free of any responsibility & milking the utters of their youth.

“Ha.” You giggled, leaning back to rest your elbows on the brick steps, “Utters.”

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” Millie appeared over your shoulder, dropping to her butt to join you.

“Mills.” You squeaked, gripping her slender legs & hugging them, “I really love you.”

“I love you, too, you lush.” She returned, patting the top of your head.

“I’m gonna name my daughter Lush.” You mumbled, smiling at the thought, “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah, yeah, & you’re gonna name your son Bitters.”

“It’s a theme.” You defended.

“One I know Sayyed will no way in hell support.”

“Whatever. He loves me.” You smirked knowingly.

“Hey guys.” Micah joined the two of you but didn’t sit, “I’m gonna head back, want a ride Mill?”

“Nah, thanks.” She rubbed your face, making you bat away your hands, “I gotta keep an eye on this one.”

“C’mon. Where’s Sayyed? Let him get her home. I want us to roll around before bed.”

You snorted at that, “Okay, okay, Mee-Kuh.” You slurred, stumbling as you stood, “Mills is all yours. I got my own rolling around to do.”

Millie & Micah traded looks before she gently grasped your arm, hooking it over her shoulders, “No way. You’re done. We got an early day tomorrow anyway. You’re coming with us & I will call Sayyed in the car.”

Though you wanted to resist, still having the urge to party & go all night long, your limbs felt heavy as your roommates carried you to the car. Once in, you lied down in the backseat, not bothering with a seatbelt. Micah had The Pixies playing on the stereo at a low volume. You faintly made out Millie on the phone with who you presumed to be your boyfriend.

Where Is My Mind? lulled you to sleep. Before you knew it, you were falling into a pit of comforting darkness.

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

Someone was shaking you.

You threw your hand out, batting it away, “No.” You groaned, your head throbbing at energy you used to produce the single world.

“_____, get up, sleepyhead. We’re already behind.”

You didn’t care. You couldn’t even remember why the hell anyone would be waking up this early. Millie knew better. After a night of drinking & partying, you were permitted to sleep well into the afternoon hours.

“Wake up, fishy!” She imitated, shaking you roughly.

“Mills, quit!” You could feel yourself growing irritable.

“Don’t make me resort to plan C.” The threat forced your eyes to pop open. You glared daggers at her, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Get your lush ass up & I won’t.” She cocked her head, her hands on her hips.

You didn’t know what time it was, but as you took in her attire, you were confused by what she wore.

“What are you wearing?” You questioned, taking in her crop top, Levi cut-offs, & worn-through boots.

Millie pursed her lips, “Camping, dumbo. It was your brilliant idea for us all to go camping before we all went home for the summer.”

That couldn’t be right. “I hate being outdoors.” You whined, “You’re lying.”

“Believe me, I wish I was.” Millie seemed exasperated, “Now, seriously, get up. You roped me into this trip so you’re helping me load Sayyed’s jeep. I’m not doing it by myself.”

“Where’s Sayyed?”

She pointed to the door, “Watching the news with Micah.”

“Wake up or plan C goes into effect.” With that, Millie exited your room.

You groaned inwardly, feeling your stomach slosh as you sat up. Bile rose in your throat & you immediately cupped your mouth. Oh no.

Making a mad dash for your bathroom, you fell to your knees, slapping up the toilet lids in time for you to empty out your stomach.

After a minute or so, you felt a comforting hand on your back. You knew it was Sayyed. Reaching behind you, you gripped his jean clad knee in support. Once you were finished vomiting, Sayyed poured you glass of water to swish the taste out of your mouth before helping you stand.

“How you doin’, babe?” You could hear the slight amusement in his question, imagining that you looked quite funny at that point, but you shrugged, “Better.”

“Good.” He kissed your forehead, shifting you over to stand in front of the sink. He grabbed your toothbrush & toothpaste, applying the crème to your brush before offering it to you, “Brush your teeth, take a shower, we’ll be done loading the car by the time you’re finished.”

“Is it too late to cancel?” You moaned, dreading the idea of going without proper plumbing for who knows how long.

Sayyed smiling sadly, but cupped your cheek comfortably, “You can sleep the whole way. The whole trip if need be. It’ll be over before you know it.”

With that, he left you to your hangover. Doing as he said, you brushed your teeth—twice—then stood in the shower until Millie came hollering for you. Begrudgingly you climbed out of the shower. In your bedroom, you pulled out a cute yellow jumper & slipped into some old shoes from high school. You threw your hair up & moisturized your face, pointedly ignoring the bags under your eyes.

Once you were finished, you gathered some essentials for a to-go bag & hauled it over your shoulder.

In the living room, you stopped abruptly, confused by what everyone was doing. Your living room was filled with your friends, all of whom stared at the television as a news report sounded. You frowned, “What’s going on?”

Sayyed turned to you, a look of worry on his face. He brought you closer, his arm around you but said nothing as he turned his attention back to the TV.

Your mouth parted.

The reporter on the TV announced:

Again, that state of California is calling a state of emergency as an unknown air-borne virus rips through the state. The origin of the virus at this point in time is unknown, however, the first reported cases of it was in the highly populated city of Los Angeles. There have been a reported two thousand two hundred fifty six cases thus far since Monday evening with the number rising every hour. Surrounding states have closed their borders to anyone traveling from California in an attempt to isolate the virus. In a press statement earlier this morning, the Governor of California, alongside the guidance of the CDC, advised California residents & those traveling within the state to remain indoors, wear masks, & avoid social interaction at all times.

There have been no reported deaths thus far but we will have more at the top of the hour. For any information as this story develops, please visit the CDC official website.

“Jesus.” Adrianna muttered, immediately getting onto her phone, “COVID all over again.”

Everyone in the room groaned at that.

“No way.” Nuha rolled her eyes, “It’s one state. One. And it looks like they’re getting a handle on it. Nothing for us to worry about way down here in the sunshine state.”

“Besides,” Bear joined in, “Whatever the virus is, it’ll eat those left-wings first before it comes for us.”

“Bear!” Everyone reprimanded at once.

He rose in hands in defense, smiling, “Joking! Joking.”

“I thought it was funny.” Rafe shared lowly, slapping Bear’s arm. In turn, you slapped his, “Oh, shut up.”

“C’mon guys.” Sayyed clapped his hands together, “We got a lot of driving to do if were gonna find a decent stop. Gotta hit the road.”

Following Sayyed’s command, your friends began gathering their things, the news report fresh in their minds as they shuffled out of your apartment. The TV was turned off now but you continued to frown at it, “You really think it’ll be taken care of?”

Sayyed pondered your question before answering, “Who knows honestly. Before COVID made it stateside we all thought it wouldn’t make it here. But it did. There’s no saying. Every virus is different.”

You nodded, crossing your arms, “Maybe we should cancel. Listen to the CDC.”

“Okay.” Sayyed laughed softly, gently grabbing the sides of your face, “Remember when everyone panicked & overbought toilet paper?”

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be that demographic, babe.” He kissed you once, looking into your eyes, “We’ll be okay. We beat COVID, whatever this thing is they’ll take care of it. Besides, we can’t stop living just because California is in the midst of an outbreak.”

You sighed, but nodded. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“I know.” He grinned, “Besides, it’s like Nuha said. This is Florida. We’re on the complete opposite end of the country. If it reaches us, we’ll be well prepared by then. Alright?”

“Alright.” You finally mustered a smile, the news report having chased away your hangover.

“I love you.”

“You.”

It was early evening by the time your group made it to your destination. Thankfully, you slept for most of the seven hour drive—though Rafe & Sayyed sped to save on time. Rafe hauled Luka, Kai, Bear, & Adrianna in his Ford truck with all the camping gear while Sayyed drove you, Millie, Micah, & Nuha in his wrangler, his trunk filled with the food & essentials. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours, which worked in your favor considering what was next.

“Alright, everyone grab a hold of something heavy, make it work, we’re a team.” Sayyed announced, taking the leadership role seriously, “We got about a twenty minute hike to the spot then we can chill.”

“Finally.” Luka groaned, opposite of his best friend Kai who was a geography major & picked the national park for you all to camp at. Kai beamed at the surrounding forestry.

“Smell that, Luka?” Kai teased, “That’s what folks like us who don’t spend all our time in the lit section at the library call ‘fresh air’?”

Luka made a face causing Kai to laugh.

You & Millie partnered up, loading your backs & arms with the lighter items while Adrianna & the boys carried the heavier items. Nuha was happy to be left with the remaining coolers that contained the food. Both coolers hand wheels with handlebars.

Sayyed led the way through the trees with Kai close behind, the latter pausing every now & then to take pictures. Every time he did someone in the group snapped at him to keep it moving. You managed the slightly inclined terrain well, glad you only wore a jumper & nothing more since you tended to sweat easily.

Finally, after what felt like an hour rather than twenty minutes, Sayyed led the group into a decent sized clearing.

“Here we are, guys!” Sayyed dropped the camping gear he had been carrying, everyone else quickly following suit.

“Oh nice, man!” Micah exclaimed, noting the nearby waterfall with a swimming hole underneath it. Then he began to undress, “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

You couldn’t help the squeal that rushed out of your body. A majority of you, though tired, were still high on the excitement of summer break. Micah had the right idea.

Quickly untying the strap of your jumper, you let it fall to the ground, sporting only your bra & underwear before slipping out of your shoes & taking off after Micah. The entire group then raced to the swimming hole, bodies jumping or belly flopping in.

The sun was still high in the sky, keeping the ten of you warm in the cool natural water. Belts of laughter, hollers & light-hearted screaming, surrounded you. You swam still in the middle, watching all your friends frolic amongst themselves without a care in the world.

The smile on your face couldn’t be contained.

The fire was going. Everyone was sitting quietly, talking amongst themselves. After swimming for a short while, everyone worked together to set up camp. There were so many tents to put up since a couple of the boys insisted on having their own space.

In one tent was you, Sayyed, Millie, & Micah. Nuha & Adrianna shared another, same with Luka & Kai, but Rafe & Bear brought their own single person tents. The clearing that Sayyed picked was perfect though. There was plenty of space to spread out & everyone was happy with the set-up. Sayyed & Millie got to work on preparing dinner while you & Rafe broke into the beer cooler. Fortunately, there was plenty to last everyone the next few days.

Once dinner was made, everyone chowed down, talking loudly over one another & cracking jokes. You rested your head on Sayyed’s shoulder, enjoying your meal. It was a simple dinner for the first night since arrival time had been late (your fault). But Millie was one hell of a cook & Sayyed was an excellent assistant.

By the time everyone finished, the alcohol really began to pour.

Most of the boys found sticks in the trees to play with, chasing each other in the dark. You & Millie laughed in amusement, the beer warming your stomachs on the gently chill night. Rafe sat on your other side, shaking his head at the antics of his frat mates.

“Idiots.” He muttered but was smiling.

You & Millie both rolled your eyes.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Millie commented, “Or did you forget why everyone calls you Roofie Rafe?”

Ugh. The nickname still made you sick to your stomach, knowing that anyone who heard it probably the worst immediately, but it was the total opposite that birthed the name. One night freshman year, Rafe had consensually roofied himself & found many stimulating ways to try to keep himself awake. Every two hours he would keep from passing out, he’d have to take another half dose. Impressively, Rafe lasted four hours before he finally crashed.

And ended up in the hospital. It was a scary night, but definitely one that would never be forgotten.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe smirked, shaking his head. His eyes met yours, leaning forward so only you could hear, “I got something for us.”

Your interest piqued ten-fold. Rafe always had the goods.

Making sure Millie’s attention wasn’t on them, Rafe subtly showed you a plastic baggie dangling between his fingers before he swiftly returned it to his pocket. He wiggled his brows at you.

Your heart skyrocketed. It had been a couple months since you last did coke. Sayyed tolerated the habit at the beginning of your relationship, but after spending a year together, he asked that you stop altogether or at least only do it once every now & then—if he was present.

Technically, this counted. You reminded yourself that you hadn’t touched the stuff in months & Sayyed was indeed present. But did you want to get up & stop the fun the boys were having to bring it to his attention. Your eyes looked at Rafe unsure, his eyes growing bigger waiting for an answer.

One bump wouldn’t hurt.

“Quickly.” You lowered your voice, placing your beer in the cupholder of the chair you sat in.

Rafe nodded, getting up from his chair, “I’m gonna go take a piss.”

Millie made a face but said nothing. After he disappeared behind you, you exhaled quickly, moving yourself, “I left my water in the tent, I’ll be right back.”

Fortunately, Millie said nothing, didn’t even look suspicious as you followed after Rafe. Unlike the majority of your friends, Millie was one of the few who didn’t get into party tricks. She stuck with beer & limited herself three a party. Out of everyone she was definitely the mother of the group. Same could mostly be said for Adrianna. Being a member of the military, she was 100% prone to partying, but when it came to the hard stuff, she was usually there being a voice of reason. It’s why you & Rafe had to be secretive around them.

In the dark, you whispered Rafe’s name.

“Over here.” He called softly. You held out your hands blindly, searching for him as you walked toward the sound of his voice.

A gentle hand gripped your wrist, pulling you closer. You laughed sheepishly, getting closer to him now that you were away from the warmth of the fire. Even though it was late April, it could still get somewhat cold out at night, especially for the southern folk who traveled seven hours north to camp in the mountains.

“Hurry, hurry.” You rushed, pulling out your phone but turning the brightness down so as not to draw attention to the drug commotion happening in the trees.

Rafe chuckled at your anticipation, pouring a little snow out on the fatty part of his hand. He raised it to you. You closed one nostril, leaning over his hand to inhale. The coke went as smooth as expected. You chapped your lips, licking them next. You could still feel a little bit of the grains in the back of your throat.

You sighed blissfully, waiting for Rafe do to his bit.

“That all you bring?” You questioned.

Rafe sniffed, wiping his nose before stuffing the coke back in his pocket.

“Yeah, can’t risk having more than this on me if we get pulled over, especially crossing state lines.”

“Pretty sure the criminal charge for holding is the same across the states.”

“Eh.” He shrugged, grabbing your elbow gently to lead you back towards the campsite. “Either way, I get caught with it & my dad will send me to military school.”

In the three years you knew Rafe, you had heard a lot about his father but never had the pleasure of meeting him—for lack of a better word. He sounded abrasive, domineering, cruel, careless. It made sense why Rafe turned to partying. You could relate a little. Your own parents were barely involved in your well-being.

“Guess we’ll have to clear it before we head back later, huh?”

Even in the dark, you could make out Rafe’s eyes twinkling, “I can always count on you.”

The two of you bumped shoulders as you both came out from the tree-line. Rafe ventured off towards the beer coolers. You were under the impression that you were about to make it back to your seat without raising any suspicions but then you heard your name being called.

“_____.” You paused, cringing to yourself. You knew that tone well.

Slowly turning on your heal, you spotted Sayyed standing under the cooking tent. His arms were crossed & his head was cocked in knowing disappointment.

You approached him, already slipping on your puppy dog eyes, “Baaabe.”

“Don’t even start.” He held up his hand, “What the fuck were you doing?”

You dropped the ‘please forgive me act’, easily transitioning to a defensive stance, “Having fun, Sayyed. It’s summer, I’m allowed to let loose.”

“You did last night. And this last weekend. Oh, & the weekend before that.”

Okay, so? You partied a lot. He knew that, he knew that before he even began dating you. That hadn’t changed.

“When are you going to grow up?” The insult had you rearing backwards.

“Are you serious right now?” You sneered, glaring at him, “It was one time & you’re acting like I’m in the woods fucking off my whole life.”

“You said you wouldn’t do it anymore.” He lowered his voice so no one could hear.

“No, I didn’t.” You countered, “I said I would do it less. And if you were around. Hello! You were less than twenty feet away from me.”

Sayyed sighed, running his hands down his face, “Ya know what, forget it. I don’t like talking to you when you’re like this.”

You scoffed, nodding your head, “Yeah, right, & what is that supposed to mean?”

“When you’ve been drinking, _____, you know that.”

“Oh, come off it.” You ridiculed, “I’ve had two beers & I’m not even buzzed. You know that.”

Not wanting to argue further, you stomped away from him, ignoring the curious looks as you returned to your seat, chugging the rest of the beer that sat waiting for you.

“You good?” Millie asked.

You shook your head but said nothing. You weren’t in the mood to talk.

Across the fire from you, Rafe met your eyes. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him too. It wasn’t his fault. You were entirely in control of what you decided to do, but goddamn him, too. Now, all you wanted to do was another bump to chase away the night.

ONE DAY BEFORE THE DAY ENDED

Fortunately, the next two days camping went by smoothly. Sayyed & you had made up, finding a hidden spot in the forest to have a quickie. Sex while camping was the least sexiest thing you could do but after you had done another bump—with Sayyed’s knowledge—your libido couldn’t be stopped. It was fast yet passionate. You came twice.

Everyone was enjoying the off-the grid activities: hiking to a look-out point to view the canyons, climbing the face of the waterfall, childhood games in the swimming hole, telling scary stories by fire. It was a lot of fun. Though you initially loathed the idea of camping, still finding it hard to believe you were the one to suggest it, you were sad to be going back to civilization the following morning.

Millie & you would be traveling south to the tail of Florida where your families were. Sayyed & Nuha would return to New York. And the others would jet off to their respective hometowns. It was a bittersweet end to the college year, but it’d only be a couple months before everyone reunited for senior year. A couple weeks before the start of the school year, Sayyed & Nuha would come to you in Southern Florida to visit before the four of you mobbed back to school.

Not seeing him during the summer months was typical but it didn’t make you miss him any less.

It was the last night & everyone had a lot to drink. You & Rafe finished off the baggie of coke a couple hours ago. Everyone started to crash around midnight but you & Rafe were still wired from the stimulant.

Sayyed had been the last to go to bed, kissing you once before crawling into the tent where Millie & Micah slept soundly. You were alone at the fire with Rafe. It was quiet, save for the crackling of the dying fire & the cicadas to fill the night.

Rafe polished off the rest of his beer. You remained in your chair, snuggled deep within one of Sayyed’s hoodies & a pair of sweats. You felt warm & fuzzy. The coke was making you smile at absolutely nothing.

Rafe chuckled beside you.

You flashed a wide-eyed look at him, “What?”

“You look drugged the fuck out.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, “Whose fault is that?”

Silence returned but it was a comfortable one. Rafe was one of the few people in your group of friends who didn’t feel the need to entertain conversation all the time. You loved every single one of your friends, but Rafe was special in the sense that he didn’t need to talk to have a good time. It’s one of the many reasons you two got along so well.

“Dreading going home?” Rafe asked, surprising you. You shrugged, “You?”

He mirrored your gesture. The two of you chuckled lightly.

“Believe it or not, I would much rather stay here.” You waved to the forest around you.

Rafe made a sour face, “Nah. Don’t get me wrong, camping & the woods & shit is cool, but I miss the coast. North Carolina kicks Florida’s ass any day.”

You scoffed, feeling the need to defend your home state, “North Carolina is filled with classist assholes, company included.”

He belted out a laugh at the insult. “I’ll drink to that.” Rafe cracked open another beer, taking a swig from it then leaned forward to challenge your statement.

“But I’d rather be a classist asshole than come from a state that produces the next wave of cracked out crazies in the headlines.”

You smiled proudly, “Free entertainment.”

“You laugh at the impoverished & I’m the classist asshole.”

“Oh, whatever.” You ignored him, “You supply them.”

“Touche.”

The fire was barely lit at that point, allowing the cool night chill to seep through your layers.

“God, I wish this didn’t have to end.” With that, you stood up, cracking your spine & stretching your limbs, “I’m going to bed. See ya in the morning, loser.”

“Back at chya.”

You approached your tent but turned to point at Rafe, “Put that out before you go to sleep. Don’t need to be the cause of the first wildfire this summer.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rafe replied sarcastically.

Unzipping your tent, your three companions slept. Sayyed was pressed against his side of the tent & Millie was cuddled up to Micah on the other side, leaving the perfect amount of space for you to slide in. As you did, Sayyed shifted, opening his eyes slightly. He said nothing but opened his arms for you to join him.

You gladly climbed into his sleeping bag. As quickly as he had woken up, he fell back asleep, his breathing light. His body warmed you quickly & you buried your face in his chest.

Not being able to this for the whole summer was going to be the death of you.

THE MORNING OF

The hike back to the cars was slow moving. For the first time, you were one of the few not hungover among your group of friends. Even Millie was rocking a headache. The packing had been quick & before you knew it everyone was following Sayyed back towards the dirt road where Rafe & your boyfriend parked off of.

You were standing in the bed of Rafe’s truck, taking items from others as they handed them to you. Everyone was sporting a yawn, eyebags, blotchy skin, or an annoyed expression. You had to hide your smile. It was nice not to be the one recovering for once.

There was little discussion among everyone as they hopped into either vehicle. You were just hopping out of Rafe’s bed, approaching the back of Sayyed’s wrangler when you heard hushed whispering. You paused. One of the voices was Sayyed’s.

Making sure none of the others were curious as to what you were up to, you lowered yourself to peek around the front of Rafe’s truck.

Behind Sayyed’s SUV was your boyfriend & Rafe. Sayyed had his back to you but you could easily make out Rafe’s face. He looked pissed. No, more than that. He appeared livid.

You couldn’t make out what Sayyed was saying but whatever it was, the more he spoke the more Rafe grew red in the face. He stepped forward then, practically brushing chests with your boyfriend as he said whatever he was saying. It was irritating you that you couldn’t hear what they were discussing but they were whispering for a reason.

Sayyed shoved Rafe in the chest. Not hard, but enough to send him back half a foot.

“Just fuck off, Rafe.” Sayyed finally said, his voice significantly louder, “It’s what you’re best at.”

With that, Sayyed circled around to the drivers side & got in, slamming the door. His wrangler shook with force. Rafe stared hard at the ground. From where you were crouched, you could see that his chest was heaving.

What the fuck?

It wasn’t uncommon for Rafe & Sayyed to have words with one another. They were both males with an alpha mindset so every now & then they would get into it but nothing ever bad enough to ruin a friendship between the two. However, as you watched Rafe fluctuate between different levels of anger, you were deeply concerned what could be happening between them.

Finally he moved. Approaching where you were hidden.

You quickly backed up to pretend you were finishing up with something in the bed of the truck when he appeared. At first he looked a little surprised to see you, but said nothing.

You couldn’t help frowning, “Everything okay?”

Rafe ignored your question, opening his door, “We’re late.”

Then he got in the truck, turning the engine on.

“_____!” Sayyed was leaning out of his window, “C’mon, lots of driving to do.”

You would let it go. For now. But the second you & Sayyed were alone, you were going to investigate.

It was about an hour into the drive back to civilization when things grew worse.

“What the hell?” Sayyed said. You had been resting your head against the window, your eyes closed with your earphones in listening to a podcast.

Everyone else in the car was sleeping.

You looked at Sayyed, about to ask him what was wrong when you followed his line of sight.

What you saw caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

On the on ramp to a highway, Sayyed slowed to a stop.

There were cars everywhere. But none of them moving.

“Guys.” You reached blindly behind you, unable to take your eyes off the sight, “Guys, wake up!”

The panic in your voice was enough to force the others awake.

“Jesus, what?” Micah groaned. Millie wiped the sleep from her eyes & Nuha leaned forward in her seat to peer out the windshield.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know…” Sayyed’s voice lowered.

Sayyed then put the car into park, hesitantly opening his door.

“No, what are you doing?” You hissed.

“Something’s wrong.” He told you, slipping out from under your grasping hands.

Nuha & Micah followed.

In the sideview mirror, you could see everyone piling out of Rafe’s truck behind you.

You twisted around to look at Millie, “What do we do?”

Millie looked as scared as you felt.

But once she made to move out of the car, you reluctantly followed behind her.

The ten of you stood around, staring in every which direction. All up & down the highway were hundreds of cars, bumper to bumper, some with engines still running. But there was no movement. No sign of anyone nearby.

“I don’t like this.” Bear commented, walking slowly closer to the nearest cars.

Behind you, you watched as Adrianna crawled into the passenger side of Sayyed’s SUV. She flipped on the stereo, cruising through stations.

“Hey, guys!” She hollered, “You might want to hear this.”

At her claim, everyone crowded around. She turned the volume.

This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert. If you are hearing this, remain indoors. The unknown virus from California has spread across the United States rapidly. Over a million deaths have been reported & the number continues to rise. We are in a state of emergency. If you are in a heavily populated area your risk of exposure is great. Quarantine, isolate, stay in contact with the United States Military should symptoms occur.

This is all the information we have this time.

This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert.

The message repeated. Adrianna lowered the volume.

“Oh, my god.” Nuha covered her mouth, her eyes watering.

“Check your phones.” Sayyed demanded. Most phones were dead but a few had charged enough within the hour long drive.

Kai pulled out his phone, “There’s no service.” He held it up, walking away from everyone to see if he could find any signal.

“Same.” Millie shared, her hands shaking.

“Can you call?” You asked, your voice matching her hands.

“No, no.” She cried softly, “Nothing is going through.”

Kai returned with no luck.

“What the fuck is going?!” Nuha cried.

“Calm down, sis.” Sayyed brought her into a hug, his eyes full of concern meeting your own.

“Guys!” Everyone’s head snapped in Bear’s direction. He had walked all the way to the other side of the highway, his back to you.

With rapid movement, everyone dashed between cars left abandoned to join where Bear stood.

A gasp left your mouth, your eyes blurring.

“I don’t think is COVID…” Bear’s voice was barely audible over the sound of blood rushing to your ears.

Below the highway, on a hill, was the horrific sight of hundreds of bodies. Men, women, children. You had to turn away when you saw a baby stiff in the arms of a dead woman.

“Sayyed.” Your fingers clung to the sleeve of his shirt, “What’s happening?”

He shook his head. There were no words that could be said.

“We need to go.”

You looked over your shoulder at Rafe. He was standing back from everyone, his face expressionless.

“Where, Rafe?” Millie questioned, “We don’t know where is safe, we don’t even know what the hell is going on!”

“The alert system to avoid populated areas.”

“So, what?” Luka spoke then, “We just don’t go home, man? We have families. We gotta make sure they’re okay.”

“Fine, okay.” Rafe doubled down, stepping forward to point at the bodies, “Wanna start there?”

Everyone was silent at that. When no one challenged him further he shook his head, “Think it’ll be different anywhere else?”

“We have to try, Rafe.” You spoke, your voice soft but firm.

Rafe was about to open his mouth, growing angry, but Sayyed spoke first.

“He’s right.” Sayyed said, swallowing but nodded with what Rafe suggested, “We can’t go anywhere populated. We don’t know how bad it is.”

“I think we have an idea.” Bear muttered, referring to the dead below.

“Look.” Sayyed began, “We avoid the main roads, we keep trying with the phones & stations, maybe we find a military base & get some answers. Either way. Whatever killed all those people did it fast.”

His eyes danced across the familiar faces, “It’s our only shot. Then maybe, maybe when we have more information, more of an idea how to protect ourselves, we move further south. But for now, Rafe is right. We can’t stay here, & we can’t go home. Not yet.”

Your heart faltered. Sayyed & Nuha’s family was in New York City. Their chances of survival… you couldn’t let yourself finish the thought.

“Alright, okay?” Though he was the voice of reason, you could hear the fear in his voice. You grabbed his hand, letting him know you were with him.

“Okay.”

A few of the others grumbled, Nuha was crying uncontrollably, Adrianna was staring at the bodies below. But no one challenged Sayyed or Rafe further.

“Let’s go.” With that, slowly everyone began making their way back towards the vehicles.

But Adrianna didn’t move. You approached her, placing a gentle hand on her arm, “We gotta go.”

“We’re not going to find anything.” Her voice was so quiet you barely made out what she said.

“We don’t know that.”

She shook her head, finally turning to look at you, “We’re already dead.”

Your lips parted, watching as she walked away, following behind the others.

She’s just scared, you told yourself but your gut churned. We’re all scared.

With one final look at the bodies below, you ran after the others, Adrianna’s words repeating over again in your head.

We’re already dead.

THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED

alrighty! the first chapter of my first full length series.

a reminder that i write for myself & myself does write porn w plot. this will be a slow burn series with lots of plot building, world building, character building, ect. if you're looking for straight smut i suggest looking elsewhere.

Rafe, as always with my stories, is the dark/non-con/18+/MDNI warning.

all that being said, The Day The World Ended (TDTWE) will be a universe series. Rise--Part One is Rafe & Reader. Summit--Part Two will be Ransom Drysdale & a different reader. And Fall--Part Three will be Billy Russo & yet another different reader. this whole universe will be my biggest project on here thus far.

so please show me your love & support any way you can! i look forward to hearing your thoughts.

thank you for reading! follow or requests to be added to the TDTWE or Rafe Cameron taglist to get update notifications.

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skzcollision · 10 months

Text

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (6/7)

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genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Fear has caught up to you now.

Your resolve to leave that life behind had blinded you initially. Every single morning, feeling as though you were waking up in somebody else’s house, despite those four walls being the ones you grew up in. The people who raised you, complete strangers. Your entire life planned ahead of you, and you having no say in it.

It made sense to want to leave, it made sense to want to try.

But the reality of it all is finally sinking in. You are out on your own for the first time in forever. This is the situation you have thrust yourself in, and you either commit to it—or you choke.

That first night, after your falling out with your mother, Felix drives you into the city. He holds your hand, tells you everything is going to be okay, and even that is not enough to calm your turmoil.

His sister is kind enough to let you stay with her in the meantime before the semester starts and you move into your dorm.

“Here,” he pushes into the bedroom, carrying a pile of clothes. “Some extra… stuff.” He chews on his bottom lip with worry at your blank expression.

“Thanks,” you reply quietly, making a feeble attempt to smile.

It does nothing to quell him. He rushes to your side and gently pulls you into his arms, fingers lazily scratching at your scalp as you lean against his chest. “We’ll go back, when they’re– when it’s safe. And then we’ll grab your things.”

You nod wordlessly. A shiver runs through your body, still shaken and recovering from crying nearly the entire way there, and he hugs you tighter.

“Are you– you’re staying, right?” Your blood-shot eyes settle on Felix’s face, shadowed and lined with concern.

“Yes,” he nods vigorously. “Of course, I’m staying.” With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “I’m never leaving your side, remember?”

You lie together, just like you always have—warm bodies pressed against one another, leaving no space in between. He kisses your face, grazes his fingers along your arm, until both of you slip into your slumbers.

Felix does not pry nor does he expect you to talk about it at all. You try to make things go back to normal—and they do, somewhat, on a surface level.

Both of you fall back into your playful dynamic, and even adjust swimmingly to your temporary living arrangement. But neither of you can deny the shift in the air or the upset beneath your facade.

You are as physically close as can be, and yet you have never felt so far away. Separated by a barrier that wasn’t there before, the distance growing bigger and bigger, and him, powerless to stop it.

Even so, he plans to keep this up until you are ready to fully open up to him.

“Do you need help?”

You shake your head no, pulling on the tab to open the car door. “I’m not gonna grab everything.”

“Alright, give me a call if you need anything.”

It’s dim and cool when you enter the house. Even though you and Felix made sure to come by at a time when your parents would be at work, you immediately race up the stairs to your room, filled with a sense of urgency.

Everything is exactly where you left them, save for the fresh batch of laundry in the basket. You get to work, stuffing those clothes into a duffel bag and any other personal belongings—you never owned much to begin with. You also sneak into your father’s bureau, collecting any important documents you may need to present to the school’s administration.

Once you are certain you haven’t missed anything, you quietly make your way back down.

That is when you notice someone is sleeping on the sofa in the living room.

It’s your mother. She is deep in her slumber, you can tell by the way her mouth hangs ajar. A cold compress rests on her forehead. She must have called in sick from work. Sometimes she would get these really bad migraines.

The creaking of the old wooden floors don’t concern you as your mother has always been a heavy sleeper. You pad over to her, staring upon her sleeping face. You always thought that she looked the most peaceful when unconscious.

Although you can’t help but notice how perturbed she looks now; a scowl on her face, thin lips pulled tight and brows drawn together. She looks older than when you last saw her, and two weeks haven’t passed yet.

A sudden wave of anger rushes through you. Here you are worrying about her, when she hasn’t even bothered to check with you since then.

You wanted to believe that your parents still loved you, even if it was in their own sick and twisted way—but after everything that you’ve been through, you know that’s not the case.

“All I ever wanted from you was–“ You hiccup a sob, cheeks glistening with tears. “Was for you to just be my mom,” you bristle, voice trembling at her unmoving face.

It is as pointless as talking to a brick wall. She doesn’t hear you, and she never will. You furiously swipe at your face with the back of your arm, sniffling.

You take a moment to collect yourself before heading back to Felix’s car.

“That’s everything?”

You nod, clicking in your seatbelt. “Hey, do your parents know about, um– all of this?”

He gazes toward the familiar street. “Well they do know that something happened, and that we’re both staying with my sister.”

“And they’re okay with it? They’re okay with me?”

Your parents may be a lost cause, but you still want Felix’s to think positively of you.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine. They’re not, uh–“

“They’re not like my parents.”

He pauses, pursing his lips. “That’s… not what I was going to say. I meant like, hardcore or– or you know, like really strict.”

“And that’s exactly what my parents are,” you speak through a hollow laugh. Hands playing with the straps of your bag, you avert your gaze. “I see you with them, and your siblings… and I want that too. Always have.”

Your eyes drift back to him when his fingers come up to stroke your hair, a gloomy look in his stare. It is not the type that makes you feel pitied or pathetic. Something even worse plummets to the pit of your stomach.

Felix is deeply unhappy. You see it in his eyes—those beautiful, brown eyes that once sparkled every time you looked into them, now surrounded by darkness from lack of sleep, and containing nothing but feigned joy.

You did this to him.

“It kills me,” your name has never sounded so sad coming out of his mouth.

On a typical night like this, you put on a series and settle yourselves on the couch.

You pull away from him abruptly, getting up halfway through an episode. His hand travels to your wrist. “Where you going?”

Distracted by the action on the screen, you falter momentarily. "Wait, I'm gonna get an ice cream."

“Oh, you want ice cream,” his voice drops an octave, adopting a playful tone. “I have one for you."

"Huh," you look back in time to catch the downward flicker of his eyes, matching the suggestive tone in his words. It takes a moment for you to register as your gazes lock. When you do, the nearest pillow is in your hand and you’re bonking him across the head several times with it. "You are such a pervert," you giggle at his absurd behaviour.

“Ow!” Felix cowers, crossing his arms over himself and shouting, "okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

You move past the couch, making your way into the kitchen. "You want one?"

"Which one, an ice cream? Or a…” He jokes again, sounding like he's about to laugh.

You whip your head around to see him faced towards you on the couch, beaming and waggling his brows depravedly. With that pillow still in your hand, you march towards him menacingly.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He swerves to avoid your hits, hands coming to grip your shoulders.

Shaking your head with laughter, you turn back, finally getting a serious response from him, “and I’m good, thanks.”

There has always been mischief hiding behind that angel face of his, it becomes apparent when you two are alone like this. Although he’s been showing off that side of him a lot more lately, you know he is only trying to make you feel better.

That much is clear when he sees you coming out of the shower with a zoned out face and starts randomly attacking you with tickles despite only being in a towel.

With your mouth full of chocolatey caramel goodness, you curl yourself back against Felix. Both of you fall silent, attention more or less on the plot of the show.

When he speaks, it's so close to your ear, a shiver rolls down your spine. "Can I have a bite?"

You look at him incredulously over your shoulder, chuckling underneath your breath. "Lix, I asked you if you wanted one."

"Okay, never mind then." He says stoically, eyes returning to the screen.

Feeling bad now, you offer to feed him. "Here."

He wags his head in refusal, clearly putting on a show. "No, I'm okay."

With a roll of your eyes, you shove the bar against his mouth. "Just eat it."

The chocolate exterior cracks beneath his teeth as he indulges himself on a bite. It's quiet again as you share the ice cream bar, down to the last morsel.

As you're licking your lips free of the sticky residue the chocolate and cream left behind, you feel a cold pair of lips on the back of your neck. A few sensual kisses here and there, leaving the area wet and chilly.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

"Felix..." You hum, pressing further into his touch. A throaty moan slips from your mouth when he shifts over to the side of your neck and bites into the skin, a pleasant kind of pain, followed by soothing licks and nibbles.

Your vision gets blurry, from the pleasure you assume, but you quickly realize that they're tears. You blink them back, attempting to swallow down the lump in your throat. It is as if you have floated out of your body, and you are looking down, watching this very moment. He’s been grasping onto you tightly all this time, even when you don’t have the strength to hold him back—blindly staying by your side and expecting nothing in return.

Your body starts moving on its own. Sliding down onto your knees in front of Felix, you paw at the growing erection over his joggers.

He says your name, jumping back in surprise. "Wait, are you sure?" A hand comes up to smooth back your hair. "I really was just kidding."

Lifting your eyes to meet his, that are filled with trepidation and doubt, you nod your head. "Felix, I really want you in my mouth."

He should know better—you both should, considering the circumstances, your unresolved issues looming over your heads like a dark cloud, but it isn’t the fact that he’s been fantasizing about you in this position for the longest time; if it were, he’d stop things from going further. It’s the ring of torment in your voice and the earnest look in your wet eyes that throw his logic out of the window.

A twisted combination of sexual desire and sadness grips you both as you take his length into your mouth.

There is a certain kind of desperation with the way you grasp onto each other, fingers tangled in your hair as his hands cradle your cheeks, yours gripping his thighs as your mouth does unspeakable things to his cock. It is not the usual kind that possesses you at the very first touch, nor at the brink of an orgasm, but rather a distressing kind.

When he’s almost there, he looks at his surroundings through slitted eyes, hips withdrawing from you. “Hold o- on… don’t wanna make a mess.”

You whine, pressing down onto him until your nose is poking his abdomen. His fingers caress your cheek, and you exchange glances of understanding.

“Let me finish in your mouth, pretty baby?” He rasps out, his breathing unstable.

With your tongue on the slit of his tip and a moan of approval, his release spurts into your mouth in warm, thick ropes. The taste is not particularly pleasant, but because it comes from him, you take every single drop you can manage.

He sucks off the remaining beads dripping down your chin before groaning into your mouth, kissing you fully.

You begin crying immediately. Feelings of pure bliss and satiation usually arose after these intimate moments with Felix. You shouldn’t be feeling this empty, not when the love of your life is right here in front of you, holding you, kissing you.

This pushes him to tears as well, because no amount of effort is enough to erase your sorrow. Because there is an empty space in your heart, that even he, try as he might, could not fill.

⭒

author’s note: lmao so ok, i decided to just do one more part after this bc this one was getting a lil long. also it just makes more sense to end it here and split it? clearly didn’t plan this well enough lol anyway, stay tuned guys ;)

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#lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz felix #skz smut #stray kids #skz fanfic #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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