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ghostheartfelt · 9 months

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*:･｡☆ warnings: attempts at sexual assault/rape, gore and violence, blood and mentions of broken bones, undertones of domestic violence/relationship, descriptions of drowning. if i missed any let me know!

〔☆〕 desc: reader sort of gets jumped in an alleyway after work and it leads to her first encounter/interaction with venom! also, you guys are in a relationship with an asshole, but you’ll get rescued from that as well eventually <3 sorry! with fluff and love comes angst and brutality.

☆ .. next part | prev part

—✩ RUSH HOUR P. ii ✩—

word count — 2.2k

a/n: hi! i hope you guys enjoy this next part where we sort of get more in depth with the reader’s situation n such. i’m considering adding a tag list once this gets more popular:) but i also just want to get together and make a better layout 😭</3 anyways—requests for one shots and short series are open!

Six o’clock; you were burnt out and more than ready to go home.

All your belongings were together and you waved your boss, Richie, goodbye as you walked out the doors of the café.

You had some time to stop at Mrs. Chen’s for an ice cream and teabags - you adored the idea of slipping into a warm bath with candles surrounding you as you sipped hot tea.

Normally, you would’ve drove home, but you had your car in the shop for repairs and you couldn’t pick it up at the moment.

Not that you didn’t enjoy walking; but waking up an hour earlier than you’re used to was something that bothered you since you still had to do your makeup and pack your lunch, then leave at least forty-five minutes earlier than you would with your car just to assure you’ll make it in time for your shift.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and walked across the street - you could easily take a shortcut through a nearby alleyway.

It didn’t sound too safe to you, but your ankles were killing you and the nearest bus stop was still under construction from being totaled during the last run-in with that black monster with the bright white eyes.

You were at home watching the chase occur on T.V, your hair messy from barely just waking up as you stuffed your face with Corn Flakes.

It was incredible; the monster had picked up two parked cars—while riding on top of a city bus—like they were nothing, and threw them at six men riding motorcycles, shooting out tendrils from it’s body to climb buildings and fling itself from one to another at incredible speed.

Four of the men were hit by one of the cars, two of them coming into collision with the bus stop along with the car.

Never have you seen something along the lines.

You paused in your steps as you made it halfway through the agonizing tunnel, an uncomfortable feeling causing the hairs on the nape of your neck to rise.

For a few moments, your eyes scanned the area, then you took a few more steps forward before you quickened your pace.

Something or someone was on your trail and you just hoped they would eventually go away - you didn’t have a lot of money to spare.

It felt as if the alleyway walls were closing on you, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as your breath grew rapidly, feeling like tidal waves in your throat.

You felt your arm clutch your handbag as the back of your shirt was yanked, digging into the skin of your neck, tears stung in your eyes and you let out a croak.

A hand met your throat, leaning your head back aggressively as another searched the pocket of your dirty slack pants.

“What d’ya have to offer me, sweet thing?” a groggy and disgusting voice purred against the shell of your ear, breathing into it deeply.

A coin or two rolled out of your pants, causing you to flinch.

“Let me go,” you hissed, squeezing back tears from waterfalling down your cheeks.

“I could take you on right here right now,” he chuckled, gripping your waist over your shirt, you instinctively raised on your tippy toes as panic drew from your body.

“Don’t you goddamn touch me,”

His hand lowered to rub at your lower abdomen, ghosting your belly button.

“Stop!” you squealed and wiggled in his arms as he dug his uncut fingernails into your hips; it stung and definitely would cause bruising, which was something you didn’t know you’d be able to explain to your boyfriend.

You flung your head back and he stumbled backwards, so you took your chance to flee; his hand gripped your hair and you immediately reacted by letting out a painful cry.

“Let go, let go,” you pleaded, gasping as he tugged harder. You kicked your legs.

Your face slammed to the floor after you landed on your ankle and you screamed right then and there - a harrowing pain shot down to your ankle.

Tears streamed down your face as he pulled you by that same ankle, you choked out a tortured moan and turned on your back to thrash at anything that tried to get near you.

As you suddenly felt his grip release your body, you curled into a ball and wailed into your knees, your left eye throbbed as bruising slowly formed under your meek skin.

You flinched as you heard the male scream, causing your entire figure to tremble, your lip was swollen from biting down on it.

Sounds of squelching, muscles tearing and wet bones popping - you flinched against the floor as you felt a rich liquid splatter against your face. You felt you might vomit.

A sickening crunch caused you to let out a sharp whimper; then again, again, again…

Just when you thought it was over, a dismembered arm fell beside you, facing you, and you let out a croaked shriek, immediately jerking your body away, watching a black…arm? Sweep it up, the same gory sounds filling your ears once again.

Slowly, you adjusted to the sound; limp against the floor, scared that any move you made would cause you to be pinned to the floor with a searing sharpness plunged through your chest.

You halted your breathing as you were slowly lifted from the floor.

“MORSEL,” a cavernous voice that sounded like the darkness itself purred close to your ear. “WE WILL NOT HURT YOU.”

You felt something snake around your injured ankle, securing it in place so it wouldn’t dangle.

Everything felt hazy; head pounding, ankle burning and swelling, your heart booming with fear.

It didn’t take long for you to pass out in your rescuers arms - large, huge, muscled arms.

…

When you awoke, you were hooked up to an IV bag dressed in a thin blue hospital gown with the room spinning in your vision.

“Hello?” you croaked as you wriggled, immediately gaining a smack of pain in the back of your head.

“You’re awake,” a woman’s soothing voice caught your attention. “Don’t try to move so much, you suffered a concussion.”

“Where am I—how long have I been asleep?” Finally, you found her face - a young nurse with thick brunette locks cradling her face. She’s holding a tray of food; chocolate pudding, salisbury steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and thickly sliced carrots, topped off with a grape sugar-free juice box.

“The hospital, dear - about three days,” she placed the tray on your lap, which you took with both hands. “It’s Tuesday.”

“I have work tomorrow, I can’t stay, I need to go,” you try to sit yourself up further, though she pressed a hand on your shoulder and pushed you down gently.

“We will have you checked out this evening - can you tell me why you’re here?”

Your eyes locked with hers, then at the tan tray.

“I don’t remember,”

“That’s alright, do you remember the man that brought you in?”

A man? You didn’t remember a man taking you in; however, you vividly remembered the one who had hurt you.

“Is he here?”

She shook her head, then grabbed a styrofoam cup, you grabbed it from her as she held it out and took a large sip.

It drowned your dry gullet in the cold liquid and it felt heavenly - never have you ever had such difficulty swallowing.

She took it back from you after you closed your eyes, leaning back in the adjustable bed.

“The doctor is going to come in for a small little check-in to make sure you haven't suffered from any amnesia - there’s a small button on the right side of your bed you can press if anything is needed, okay?” She removed her gloves and threw them in the trash bin, pulling out a second pair.

“Thank you,” you hum.

“You should be free to go if there are not any more issues; but, please try to eat,” she left the room after giving you a pleading smile, her eyebrows pinched together worryingly.

You didn’t have an appetite for someone who hasn't eaten in three days, but you took a small nibble out of the salisbury steak in pity.

Immediate regret coursed through you as you spat it out in a napkin.

Hospital food was definitely something you didn’t feel like eating for the first time in that small span.

Perhaps some Thai food, or some simple fruit. A thick ribeye.

You gasped.

Your boyfriend; he must be confused as to why you haven’t been home the past few days.

Even if it was a nice escape from him, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it when you got back. Where was your phone? Your belongings?

You had your credit card in your purse. Panic swarmed through your chest at full speed.

Two nurses rushed in at the sound of your heart monitor screaming from the adrenaline racing through you, causing your muscles to tense up.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” one nurse slid to your side and held your wrist reassuringly, the other stood back by the door in case she was to be ordered to request more assistance.

“My things, where—“ you breathed in heavily, then breathed out in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Your bag is on the floor under the bed, everything was retrieved and nothing was stolen; the man who brought you in made sure of that.”

That was enough for you to relax, your breathing slowed which allowed the nurse to step away and for you to lean back.

“Phone, please,” you gave the ravenette a tiresome smile.

She bent down and grabbed it from your bag, then set it on the bed on top of your lap.

“Thank you, I’m sorry,” you glanced over at the other nurse.

“It’s our job, sweetheart,” she began walking towards the door, following her out the door.

You picked your phone up and scrolled through your missed calls, a whopping number sixteen above your significant other’s name.

It rang twice before he answered.

“Where the hell have you been? Where are you?” his voice was angry, pure rage in his voice.

“Vince—�� you blurted.

“No, don’t fucking say my name—I want you home, now.”

“I’m at the hospital, Vincent, I have to wait to be dismissed—“ you frowned.

“Hospital—what?” he scoffed. “Three fucking days?”

No concern was found in his voice, leaving you baffled.

“You’re shitting me,” he hung up the phone, which you somewhat considered a relief.

Your eyes narrowed as a man entered the room with a clipboard in his hand, his eyes dragging to yours with nothing but kindness. He calls your name in confirmation, you nod.

“Okay, so there are no other complications regarding your health or physical condition. You just are recovering from a minor concussion and a sprained ankle which we’ve treated with R.I.C.E. It’s now in a brace, and I’ve collected your prescription.” He pauses a moment, handing the orange bottle out to you, which you grab.

“One half of the pill in the morning, the other before bed. It will help reduce pain and swelling, however, making sure to also keep your ankle elevated above your heart as much as possible is crucial to your recovery. Any questions?” The doctor says everything in the simplest manner, allowing you to understand the circumstances.

“I have to return to work tomorrow, do you know if that would be okay?” You purse your lips. He lets out a small hum.

“It’s a possibility, but if you plan to be maneuvering around a lot, we prefer you stay home with the certification of injury. If not possible though, stay on crutches to avoid pressure on your ankle.” His lips curl into a polite smile, which you return.

“Will do, doc. Thank you.” You say gently as you lift your body up slightly.

One nurse comes in and detaches the sling holding your ankle up, setting your leg down with care. Another comes in with a wheelchair, and he stops it at the left side of your bed.

Carefully, you’re hoisted up by the arms of the nurses, and settled down onto the wheelchair.

You’re pushed outside of your room and down the hallway until your sat in front of the reception desk grabbing a clipboard.

Pinned to it, a “patient feedback form” and a pen clasped under the clip.

It doesn’t take you very long to fill it out, and once you do, you hand it back to the nurse at the handling desk, who offers you a small thank you before she picks the phone back up to answer calls.

You’re guided towards the exit, the doors automatically sliding open as you pass the weapon detectors.

Outside, Vincent’s Ford Bronco sits waiting for you. Somehow you can’t find comfort in seeing the side of his face through the passenger seat window.

You feel as if you were bracing yourself for the worst as you watch his eyes lock with yours.

You feel as if you were at the bottom of an open lake feeling water pressure against your esophagus and every ounce of air stored left in you disintegrate as you hear his truck door slam.

You feel as if there were pins and needles below you on an open platform as he walks towards you, hands in the pocket of his tattered old green flannel.

You feel a dry thickness in the back of your throat as his hands grip the hand rests of your wheelchair and push you towards his slate blue car.

#venom symbiote #eddie brock x y/n #eddie brock x venom x you #eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #eddie brock x venom x reader #ghostheartfelt writing #ghostheartfelt #marvel x reader

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southernbluebellereader · 1 year

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Hello there gorgeous 😂

May I request Bad boy!Ghost in leather jacket on motorbike? Bonus : they’re going on a midnight date 🤗

Midnight Dining

A/N: Omg hey Bestie! I got you girl, don’t you worry about a thing! ;) We love us a leather clad Ghosty <3 Thank you so much for this! Also this was a lot longer than I expected lol sorry

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Civilian Reader

Warnings: Hints of religion. Bad Boy/Good Girl. Cursing. Innuendos A little touching here and there in suggestive spots. A little Good-Girl-Next-Door Moment

Master List (Tag List at the bottom)

Oh God, how hard it was to resist a man such as Simon. He was such - you almost hated to say it - bad boy. But only God knew how irresistible a bad boy was when he was also a good man.

You were blessed to have him as your neighbor. Maybe not so much when your father's eyes never left his him every time he stared from the window or from the garage or from the mailbox.

You hadn't talked to him much, but you figured he was nice, right? He always let the neighborhood kids watch him work on his bike. It made your throat dry every time you watched him from your bedroom window. And let's just say he may have caught you a few times. The way you'd know if when he'd look towards your bedroom window, not quite looking at you, but he'd shoot you with a half smirk and wave a towel in your direction, pretending to swat an imaginary fly away.

"What's got you all flustered?" Your mother chuckled as she came in your room and stood beside you, smiling as she realized what - or who - you were looking at. "What's his name?"

"His name is Simon."

"He's cute. Have you talked to him?"

"A few times."

"A few times too many." You and your mother turn and see your father in the doorway, looking at the both you sternly with a folded newspaper.

Pouting slightly, your mother puts her hands over your shoulders as she talks back to her husband, "Oh hush, a harmless crush doesn't hurt." Your mother winked at you

"Yeah yeah you say that and our little girl is getting her heart broken by some thug." Your father pointed the newspaper at you and your mother.

"Daddy! Stop it! He's in the military!"

"Even worse!"

---

"Daddy, please let me get Simon, he can help you!"

Your father grumbled and mumbled and cursed under his breath as he stood up from the hood of the old car in the garage. He wiped his forehead and sighed deeply as he looked at you.

"Forget about me liking him, at least let him take a look at the car."

"Fine."

Squealing, you quickly walked over to Simon's house. You become more nervous with each step that you took as you approached his front door. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door firmly three times. Waiting made you anxious.

Then you heard noises from his garage and looked over, slowly walking over. Your eyes widened at the sight. You knew he had a motorcycle - you'd seen him ride it almost every day when he was back from the military.

You didn't know what he did in the military, but you didn't want to pry. You watched as he worked on the side of his bike, his back was towards you. His white tank top was nearly soaked in sweat, his shoulders glistened from his sweat. You looked down at your feet when he turns his head and sees you

He stands up and wipes his hands on a towel, "Y/N."

"H-Hey! Daddy needs some help with the car, if you're not busy, do you mind taking a look at it?" You blushed, fiddling with your fingers as you struggled to keep eye contact with him.

He shot you with a small smile and nodded, "Lead the way, missy."

He walked beside you back to your garage, speaking softly to you until you approached your father. It wasn't often you heard him speak. Most of the time when you heard him speak in public, his voice was dark and deep. When he spoke to you, it was soft and round around the edges - for your ears only. You looked at your father with almost pleading eyes, begging him to be nice.

"Y/N said you had car troubles, Sir."

"Yeah, mind taking a look at the engine?" Your father stepped to the side and allowed Simon to take a look at the engine. Both men were tense when interacting with each other, thus making you a little nervous. You let them work and went back inside.

After a while you come back out with a pitcher of lemonade and a few glasses. To your pleasant surprise, your father and Simon are not having a heated discussion.

"Either of you want some lemonade?"

Both men looked at you as you placed two glasses on a stool and poured them each a glass, handing each of them a glass. Your father thanked you, and your name rolled off of Simon's tongue after he thanked you.

"Oh, Simon, let me pay you for helping me today- Y/N, would you be a darling and get me my wallet."

Simon raised his hand in protest and shook his head, "No, it's alright. The lemonade will suffice."

"Are you crazy? Let me pay you."

After a few minutes of light arguing, Simon was amused and finally suggested, "How about this: You let me take Y/N out on a date. A dinner"

Your father cocked his head, a vein beginning to bulge on his forehead. He looked over at you, you were in the front yard, helping your mother with something, pretending not to listen, then back at Simon.

"I know what you think of me, Sir, but you can't always protect your daughter - let me protect her also."

With all honesty, your father was surprised to hear Simon say that. Simon was a little rough around the edges. He'd come home late at night, music blaring during the wee hours of the night. The stories echoing throughout town of Simon beating a man half to death for looking at him funny.

He didn't have to help your father with the car. He didn't have to fix the mailbox the other day when the neighbor's kid drove into it. He didn't have to bring flowers to his daughter on her birthday.

Reluctantly nodding, your father agreed, then looked at him sternly, "I want her back in one piece, Simon. Don't let your eyes ever leave her, so help me God. And I want her back by one."

Simon held out his hand, waiting for it to be shaken by your father. He shook it, then said, "Now go ask her."

Smiling, Simon walked over to you, nervousness hovering over him - which was unusual. He didn't actually think he'd actually get to ask you out. "Y/N?"

You looked up from the rose bushes and stood up, smiling gently up at him, "Hi, Simon. You and Daddy fix the car?"

"Yeah, she's all good now," He swallowed hard, looked away for a moment, then back down at you, then blurting out, "I'm going to pick you up at eight tonight."

Giggling, you held your hand over your mouth. Simon's cheeks blushing slightly.

"Oh? What for?"

"Dinner. We're taking the bike. Think you'll be ready by then?"

"I'll be ready by then."

---

Eight o'clock in the evening came just too quickly. Simon had showered and probably put too much cologne on. He checked his watch and quickly put his leather jacket on. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers from his kitchen counter on his way out and walked over to your house. After ringing your door bell, he turned around, almost afraid to continue. He felt like a school boy. but you were so pretty - so kind, and soft, and caring.

He told you almost nothing of his military life, but he'll never forget the one time you told him, You have a good heart, Simon. A good and kind heart.

God, were you too good for him. He wished he'd never met you. He'd never think he could ever be in your presence, but here he was, about to take you on a date.

"Simon?"

He didn't hear the door open. The thoughts of you distracted him. He turned around to see you, dressed in a long red dress. His chest tightened at the sight of you.

"C'mon in, I just need to get my shoes."

He stepped inside your home, then handed you the flowers he'd gotten. You closed the door behind him and gladly took them, "Oh, Simon, these are so pretty! Thank you!"

"Here, let me take them. I'll put them in a vase, you get your shoes." Your mother took the flowers from you, leaving you, Simon, and your father. You took a moment to take in his appearance. It wasn't often that he wore his leather jacket - usually when he rode his bike. And he fixed his hair - or at least it looked a little neater.

"You look really nice, Simon."

Blushing slightly, he smiled gently at you, taking in your appearance. He always thought you were beautiful. Always dolled up - even to the grocery store - even when you didn't need to. He'd sometimes see you in your window as you got ready.

"You look beautiful, Y/N."

Your father cleared his throat, breaking your attention from Simon. You looked back up at Simon, "Let me get my shoes - be right back." You quickly left and smiled at your father.

Your gather looked at Simon, his cheeks and smile disappearing. Your father looked at Simon for a moment before speaking. Simon felt silly for doing this. But he wanted this to be nice. He wanted this to be special. He wanted tho make you happy.

"You see the world differently, Simon. We see the world differently."

Slightly confused at his remarks, he watched as your father rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing several military tattoos. Simon looked at your father with a new found respect.

"Won't let her out of my sight, Sir."

You came back with your mother following closely behind her, both of you giggling. Simon and your father looked at you. You stood beside him and looked up at him with a bright smile, "Ready?"

---

A smile was plastered on your face the whole motorcycle ride - there was so much adrenaline and excitement. Your favorite part was when right before you left, he gave you his leather jacket to wear while he drove to the diner. You can't remember ever going this fast. Once you'd arrived to the diner, Simon helped you off the bike.

About to take the jacket off, Simon stopped you, "Leave it on."

Blushing slightly, you smiled softly. Before going into the diner, you took a hold of his hand. He looked down at your hand holding his, bewildered at the action, but more so as to how your hands were so soft and small compared to his rough and large ones. He didn't want you to let go.

He opened up the door of the diner and let you walk inside first. Throughout the night, Simon couldn't take his eyes off of you. The two off you sat in a booth at the back of the diner. You sat on the inside and he sat beside you, his body turned so that if covered you - shielding you - from the outside world. You kept his jacket on you. It kept you warm. It kept you shielding. It smelled like him. You wished you could stay like this forever.

By the time you'd left the restaurant, it was nearly midnight, Simon's arm wrapped around your shoulders as you walked out. About halfway back to his motorcycle, you heard whistles and cat calling.

"Ooooh what's a pretty lady like you doing out here." How the group of three men ignored Simon, you not him knew. They flocked towards you, making Simon hold you close to his body. You felt scared and felt his chest tighten. You briefly looked up at him, seeing his jaw tense up. But before any of the men could reach you, he quickly moved you behind his body, "Y/N, go back inside."

"But Simon-"

"Y/N- Go back inside."

Swallowing hard, you somewhat did as you were told. You did walk back to the diner, but stayed outside, watching as Simon attempted to de-escalate the situation. You noticed a considerable change in Simon when one of the men attempted to punch him.

Avoiding the punch, a switch flipped in Simon's mind, enraging him. Simon punched the first man back down to the ground. Barely being able to fight against the other two men. You yelled for him to stop, but too afraid to step in.

Seeing red, Simon finally was able to knock all three men down, wiping his bleeding nose and mouth, watching them as they groaned on the ground. He spit out blood filled drool and looked over at the diner.

He felt proud that he protected you, but he also felt ashamed. He didn't want you to see him like this. He wanted to keep his work away from you - and this was a glimpse of the world that he didn't want you to see.

But the way that he saw you running up to him, tears in your eyes, pleading at him to come inside to be cleaned up? Oh God Almighty did he want to leave everything to make sure you'd never shed a tear ever again.

"Simon." Your voice was trembling. You tried so hard to keep yourself from crying. You'd taken him into one of the bathrooms and one of the waitresses gave you a first-aid kit to clean him up.

Simon watched as you struggled to clean his face from blood, feeling ashamed, feeling dirty.

"Y/N, please look at me."

"Why?"

"Why are you crying?"

"I don't want you to get hurt..." It was almost a whisper. He almost didn't hear it.

Simon took a hold of your hands and held them against his face, "No one can ever hurt me, Y/N. Not when you're with me."

Before you could react, he let go one of your hands and placed it behind your head, gently pushing you towards his face. He gently kissed your lips. For a soldier, his lips were surprisingly soft - and you'd never imagined that your first kiss with Simon would be in a diner bathroom after a fight with three men.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST

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#cod #call of duty #call of duty mw #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #fan fic #fan fiction #simon #riley #lieutenant simon riley #riley x reader #cod request #call of duty request #request

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playingdxngerous · 7 months

Text

fresh start

18+ minors dni

Warnings: cheating*, eventual smut, swearing, SLOW BURN, p in v, slight angst, arguing, Jake is very cocky, jealousy, pet names, oral f! and m! receiving, fingering f! receiving, masturbation, fluff at the end

Word Count: 4151

* I do not condone cheating, and I think it is an awful thing to experience or do to someone. Please do not cheat on people. This is just a fanfic :)

also i did not proof read absolutely any of this so if you see a mistake then ummm no you dont!

Your two month anniversary is today, or was today, in this case. Just when you thought things were getting better in your new relationship, it all started going downhill. Never in your life did you think you'd get broken up with on your anniversary. So much time wasted. It's for the stupidest reason too. Your (now ex) boyfriend James claimed over a phone call that he has been slowly losing feelings for a week or two and needs time away. Everyone knows what that means. There's another girl. Someone better, prettier.

"Fuck you!" You yell over the phone in your parked car. "You'll never be as happy as you were with me and you fucking know that, James. You know that." You hang up the phone before he can respond, tears streaming down your face. You look down at the outfit you had put on before driving over to his house. A red satin dress with lingerie underneath. You'd been planning the night out together for a few days now. He was going to take you to a movie, out to eat, and eventually back to his house before the two of you exchange gifts. he never even got to see you in your new dress. The asshole broke it off with you just before you reached his neighborhood.

You turn on music to distract yourself, yet nothing works. Guess I'll just get fucking blackout drunk tonight, you think to yourself. You quickly back out of the random parking lot you were settled in and speed to the nearest bar.

Pulling into a parking space you wipe off your tears and reapply mascara. You put on red lipstick and step out of the car, no cares for what happens to you tonight.

The bar is familiar, since this is where Jake used to take you. Jake. As if your day weren't bad enough, memories of your old relationship flutter through your head. Playing guitar, hooking up backstage, secret dinner dates where you both tried to avoid fans seeing you together. You were in love, more than you could ever be. More than you thought he would ever be. You were clearly wrong, as one day touring apparently "became too much" on him and was the reason for the breakup. About a month later the tour ended, and he found a new girl named Elena. This is when you decided to force yourself to move on and meet James. Your savior, you thought. He strongly resembled Jake. Maybe that's why you fell so hard for him too. Long hair, raspy voice, played guitar. Even his name is close to Jake's. A complete carbon copy of him. Enough with the exes, you think as you open the door to the bar with a deep breath. Tonight you can forget both of them even existed.

You walk to the barista and order a drink, asking for anything strong. She's middle aged, tattoos lining her arms and neck. She has that rare beauty to her, the beauty you'd find with a trashy addict husband. The beauty you'd find riding a motorcycle late at night. She brings you a surprise drink, winking at you before saying this will definitely get you some guys on your finger tonight. Little does she know that you secretly wish you never met any guy in your life anymore. You down the drink in one sip, the taste burning your throat. Just as you begin to ask for another shot of something, a spine-chilling voice interrupts you.

"Hey pretty lady," Jake Kiszka directs to the barista. "I'd like whatever this girl just got," he says pointing his thumb to you.

"Just one? Don't want to offer her one?" She smiles at you.

"No thank you." You quickly respond to her. "I should probably get going."

"I've got a date over here somewhere; I can't be buying random girls drinks. Don't know where the hell mine is though." Jake says. "Don't know if I give a shit either..." He mumbles under his breath.

"Be respectful for once you prick." You say directly to him, not expecting it to actually come out of your mouth.

"Oh yeah?" He downs the shot with no face. "What will you do about it? Start making out with someone who looks just like me? I've seen him before y'know. You could've gone for someone slightly different than me. Guess you were just so crazy for me you couldn't stand a simple break while I was on tour." He shrugs his shoulders. Anger rises in your stomach as he lies straight to your face. The worst part is that he's not even drunk. You've seen him tipsy, and you know for a fact he is complete sober right now. These are sober words hitting you directly in the heart. Being broken up with was enough, but this just makes it way worse. It takes everything in you to not punch his cheek and leave a mark for his precious little Elena to kiss.

"Go back to your fucking girlfriend." You grunt through your teeth. Your hands unclench to reveal little marks from your red painted fingernails. "And it wasn't a break. Don't ever say that again. You broke up with me to fuck her a month later. You lost feelings, not me. I would've stayed. I did stay. I stayed until your player ass found her. I hope she's happy with you."

"She is." He says and walks away into the crowd. You see Elena grab him around the neck with a confused face. He shakes his head and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He widens his eyes as they practically make out, staring right at you.

"You wanna dance?" A random guy grabs your hand and scoots up to you. You turn to Jake, who is still intently staring. However, his face now portrays anger and jealousy rather than pettiness.

"Sure, why not?" You smile widely and wink in Jake's direction. A song you've never heard plays out of the large speakers spread across the room and you struggle to stay up to tempo with your new date. You wait impatiently for the song to end, excusing yourself when it finally does.

You walk around aimlessly, trying to find the bathroom. As you take a turn down a hallway to find it, Jake is leaned against the wall as if he were waiting for you.

"Can you leave me alone for five minutes and just let me breathe?" You almost yell.

"I don't think James would like to know you're out here drunk and dancing with random men. Dressed like a slut and all."

"I don't care what he thinks anymore."

"Oh, so I should text him on Instagram and tell him?"

"I don't think Elena would like you sneaking off to talk to your ex by the bathroom either." You say, putting extra emphasis on her name.

"I'm sure she's doing the same. The bitch just let some dude buy her a drink. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already in his car by now. Wouldn't be the first time. I haven't even seen her since you saw me kiss her."

"And you don't care at all?" You ask, genuinely confused. If James ever did that to you would lose your mind.

"You think I care about her? She's with me for the sex. I'm a fucking rockstar, what do you expect. You really think I love her like I did you?"

"Jake why would you bring that up?" You say almost sadly.

"You never answered my question so why should I answer yours." He claims.

"Okay fine, what was the stupid question."

"Does your copy and paste boyfriend not give a shit that you're out here with other men?" His eyebrows raise.

"He broke up with me."

"What?"

"He fucking broke up with me! Is that what you so desperately want to hear?"

"Why did he- Why would he..." He trails off in confusion.

"Why don't you ask yourself that Jake. Seems like you two have something in common." Tears start to pool in your eyes, so you turn your heel to start walking away. Jake's warm hand grabs your hip, pulling you in to a hug. You can't help but stay there for a second. Thankfully, reality begins to kick back in and you push him away.

"Go find Elena. Take her home. Give her a fucking night to enjoy because God knows I won't enjoy the rest of tonight. Give her everything you ever wanted to give me, everything you did give me. Give her your love. And don't ever hug me again unless you mean it. I'm tired of people holding me in and breaking my goddamn heart." You utter.

"Am I not making it oblivious enough?" He laughs.

"Jake what are you on about now?"

"I don't want her sweetheart." He moves closer to you, making you tilt your head to now keep eye contact. Your heart sinks at the pet name.

"You don't mean it." You whisper.

"Do I need to prove it to you that I mean it?" He smirks.

"I'm not going to let you cheat on her." You croak. He turns you around to face the crowded room behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips once more. You scan the room and immediately find Elena on the lap of some guy at the bar, kissing him harder than she was with Jake moments ago.

"Oh my god Jake I'm so sorry she's doing that to you." You feel genuinely bad for him, as you know it must be hard to witness that.

"Like I said darling, not the first time. So, are we going to get going or what?" Your head and heart pull to opposite sides of your answer. As much as you want to say no, it's so hard to decline an offer like this. You and James' relationship is already in shred, and you've almost completely forgotten about it because of Jake. It's so easy to just say 'yes'...

"Jake we can't. It's not right." You finally respond. Slight regret fills your head.

"What about it isn't right? Neither of us are in a loving relationship at the moment. Mine is falling apart hour by hour and you don't even have one at all. I think you're just scared you'll enjoy it too much. You miss me too badly. You miss the way I feel in your pretty pussy. The way I taste. The sounds of our moans together." His voice gets quieter as his sentences go on, stepping closer and closer until your chests are touching.

"Fuck me, Jake." You whisper.

"Is that a yes? You know I won't ever force you." He pulls away a little, making the wind blow cold between you.

You scoot back to him and grabs his neck. "Yes Jake. I want you so badly." He smiles and kisses you slowly. The shape of his lips brings back memories of your relationship. The same lips you'd kiss for hours at a time, so often. He must sense it too, as each second he kisses hungrier and faster. The capricious night runs through your thoughts. How over an hour ago you were crying on the phone with James, and now you are making out with your ex as his girlfriend finds someone else to toy with right behind you, no care in the world.

He slides his tongue against your bottom lip, starving to taste you. The sweetness of his spit mixes with yours and you try to forget that Elena had just tasted the same thing recently. He seems to notice your overthinking tendencies and pushes you against the nearest wall, placing his thigh between your legs to distract you.

"We're in public," you laugh as you pull away from his swollen lips.

"Let's go then," he smirks. He walks quickly through the crowd, flipping off Elena as he walks past her. You grab hold his hand and smile, staring straight at her as she goes back into her kissing session. You make it outside, the chilly air giving you goosebumps. Jake gives opens the door for you, giving you a blue jean jacket from his backseat. You put it on, his scent overwhelming you.

"And you're absolutely sure you-" He begins before you interrupt him with a short peck on the lips.

"Yes Jake." He nods and puts the car in reverse, grabbing your thigh once you make it on the main road.

"My house?" He asks. You nod, not wanting to go into your room and allow him to see the hanging polaroids and framed picture of you and James. He squeezes your thigh in response. The drive ends shortly, and you notice that his hand is way further up than it started.

He gets out of the car and opens the door, guiding you through the familiar house to his bed. You sit on the edge and he leans down in front of you, taking off your red heels.

"Oh what a gentleman," you tease as you crawl back against the headboard, letting him hold himself up on top of you.

"Mhm," he moans, leaning in for a desperate kiss. "I've missed your lips," he says while pulling away. Your heart sinks at his claim, yet you know it's way too soon into your breakup to catch feelings for your ex once more. Guilt takes over you. Two months isn't that long, right?

"Why Jake? You've had Elena for a while now. Why do you miss me?" You ask.

"I don't know how I can make it clearer that I never liked her like I did you. You were and still are so special to me." The sentence drops your heart even more, your butterflies almost making you nauseous. "You probably don't feel the same though, and I guess I understand why." The thought rings in your mind. Did you ever love James more than Jake? James was easier to be around, as he was always less busy. He didn't have such high expectations on him. Maybe that's why you loved him so much. He was the part of Jake you wanted to be around. He didn't have a huge job where he was never home. He wasn't touring the country. He was actually able to show you affection. And the biggest part, he looked very similar to Jake...

"You don't know that," you finally manage to speak.

"You liked me more than James? After what I did?

"Jake...: You whisper, grabbing his arms. "I was absolutely in love with you. We were together for so long. It's difficult to compare that to a two month relationship." Jake smiles in pride and kisses you passionately. His tongue glides across yours, making you forget the whole conversation about James. Tonight was a night to forget about him, and that's what you're going to do. "Make me forget about him," you say out loud without even realizing. His eyes spark, starstruck by your request.

"I'll do anything you want sweetheart." He smirks, covering it by biting his lip. Your face gets hot by the minute as he reaches his hand up and cups your tit. While squeezing, he begins to suck on your neck. A red spot remains as he moves away, which shows that you are his for the night. Remnants of him will stay on your body, giving proof of the sins. You don't care though, in fact, you hope James sees somehow. You want him to know how you feel. You want him to know that you chose Jake over him. Not in a way to make him jealous, but to show him what he missed out on. To show him what he will never have again.

"You're so sexy in this dress," he rasps. Your mind flips to the lingerie you have on under it, originally intended for someone else.

"It would be better if you took it off, in my opinion," you tease.

"Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, slowly pulling on the shoulder straps. "Do you really deserve that special treatment, princess? I shouldn't make you strip it off in front of me?"

"Jake please," you whimper. Tonight will be a long night.

"Use your words," he lifts up your chin with his index finger, looking you in the eyes.

"Fuck me," you moan. He slides the straps down further, and you help him slide the dress down your legs. A pink matching set lines your body, making him noticeably hard through his jeans.

"Dressed up for your little boyfriend huh? Too bad he's missing out on this." He slides his fingers across your clit, the fabric of the lace covering it. "So wet and desperate for me. I hope he's so jealous right now." One more word from Jake and you feel as if your heart might stop. "I need you so bad baby please," you squeeze your legs together in order to relieve some tension. He notices and pushes them apart immediately. "Please Jake."

"I think I'd rather listen to you beg for me all night." He kisses your stomach, trailing down to the top of your panties, gently pulling on them with his teeth. He looks you in the eyes and stops midway. Running his hands up your body, he unclasps your bra. You become tired of waiting and start to rub circles through your panties. He grabs your hand and puts it behind your back, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Be patient, love." He centers his attention back to where he was initially, pulling down the lace bottoms fully. All of a sudden, he glides his tongue flatly across your slit. Electricity shoots through your body. He is doing this simply for you to feel pleasure, not him. You forgot how good this felt, as James only ever cared about if he was going to finish or not.

"Feels so good," you mumble.

"We just started baby," he smirks as he moves his head back. His tongue gains speed with every flick. He sucks on your clit, moans forcing their way out of you at the touch. You grab his brunette locks and watch as he devours your cunt. A quiet moan vibrates off his tongue as you pull his hair.

"I'm so close," you practically yell. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sliding one into you to get you used to it. He sadly moves his head away and raises up to kiss you as he fucks you with his finger. He slides one more in shortly. "Fuck baby go faster I'm so close." He menacingly slows down and bites your lip as he ends the current kiss. He positions his tongue back over your clit and continues to push his fingers into you, curling at just the right spot.

"Jake!" You shout his name like a prayer as you release your orgasm onto his fingers.

"You did so good princess," he cups your jaw with his hand.

"My turn," you say as you attempt to catch your breath.

"What?"

"Lay down." To your surprise he turns over and actually lays on his back. He used to hate letting you be in control. "Going to fuck you better than that bitch Elena ever did."

"Won't be hard to beat," he laughs. He unzips his jeans and pulls them off, throwing them on the floor nearby. You help him pull his shirt off and run your hands down his chest to take in the moment. You've really missed this, no matter what your mind tries to convince you. You take his dick in your mouth, letting your hands cover the rest of his length. You start to pump with your mouth and get faster as he whimpers underneath you.

"Condom?" You ask. He reaches into his nightstand and rips one open with his teeth. You help him slide it on, then crawl up to straddle his waist. With his help you begin to ride him, butterflies filling your stomach. Whimpers escape from his lips. He grabs your waist with one hand to guide your hips back and forth as you bounce, his other hand squeezing your boob. Another orgasm rises in you.

"I'm going to cum baby keep going," he reassures you as you start to slow down. Tired from all the movement, you pull off and take the condom off, sucking his dick once more. You rub your clit, his face alone almost sending you over the edge. "Fuck," he sighs as he releases into your mouth, watching you swallow him. He looks down and sees you touching yourself. "Desperate for another?" Your face gets hot at his observation.

"What if I am?" You tease. He flips you on you back and immediately starts to fuck you with his fingers. You're taken by surprise, but you love it more than anything. He curls as he slowly pumps them at just the right place and speed.

"C'mon baby finish for me." His words unravel the knot in your stomach, causing you to cum on him once more. "Good girl," he mutters before sucking you off his fingers. He kisses you longingly, then makes a trail of pecks to your neck. "Next time you think of that asshole ex of yours, I want you to remember what that kiss tasted like. What we taste like."

"I'm all yours now Jake."

"I know you are," he replies while walking to his drawer. He pulls out a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, putting them on in front of you. "Are you staying the night?" The question rings in your head. Why is he asking you? Why do you want to stay the night with your ex? Why did you do any of this?

"If you don't mind," you respond before thinking. He reaches in and grabs you similar clothes to his.

"Of course not. Do you want anything? Water or snacks?"

"Just you," you grin. He turns the light off and climbs into the bed with you once you have put the clothes on. His body lies inches from you, not daring to touch you or else feelings might form again. Uncertainty of your own feelings stream throughout your thoughts. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" He turns over to face you, moonlight barely shimmering down on him from a window.

"Are you going to go back to Elena and act like this never happened?"

"After seeing you so vulnerable tonight I don't think I could ever look into her eyes again. I really missed you." He places his hand on your cheek. His thumb unconsciously moves back and forth.

"Does this make me a bad person?" You ask silently.

"Why would you be a bad person?"

"James," you say shortly.

"He clearly deserves this. I don't to assume anything or hurt you, but he's probably out fucking some girl right now. I don't see why he ever would, you're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for." He speaks from experience.

"It's not just that though."

"What is it then?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"I'm catching feelings for you again. They never completely left to begin with. When we broke up, I found James, yet his only job was the replace the hole you left in me. I wanted you. In the back of my head, I have for the whole two months leading up to today. I never got over you, I never will. I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just needed to tell you sooner rather than later. That being if we ever even talk again after tonight."

"I feel the same way love." The name makes your heart pump faster.

"What does this mean for us?" You worriedly ask.

"I think it means we need to take things slow if we ever want to go back. You just need-" He says before you interrupt.

"So you do want to go back?"

"Is that bad?" He questions

"I want to as well, so I guess it's okay." You smile.

"We can have a fresh start if we just pace it right. Rushing into a relationship the same day you got broken up with probably isn't a good idea. Tomorrow I will make breakfast and let you sleep in. We can act however you want, no label."

"That sounds perfect," you yawn.

"Good," he smiles. You lean and kiss him on the cheek. He pulls you closer, yet leave a gap in between you just in case. You scoot in, wishing to be as close as possible. He hugs you and runs his hands up and down your back. You slide a hand up his shirt, craving his warmth in such a cold room. Eyelids getting heavy, you close your eyes and dream about a fresh start with Jake Kiszka.

#jake kiska fic #jake kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #greta van fic #greta van smut #jake gvf #fanfic

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dantakeyoman · 8 months

Text

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐎𝐍𝐄

Amazing how quick things can go from bad to unfathomably fucking bad.

Waking up on that fateful day, you thought you'd go through your normal routine.

Eat your honey-bun breakfast, show up late to your brother's car shop, starting working, and then return to your shitty apartment for a horrible TV dinner and a movie.

Not once did you plan for him to try to bite your face off, and not once did you plan on chopping off your only brother's head because of it.

It didn't take long after that for the entire world to go to shit, which made you grateful that your father had the paranoia of a redneck.

After taking a quick stop home and packing a duffel full of goodies, you headed off in a stolen pickup truck as far as you could from Newark.

Which was now a zombie war-zone.

A couple months and various zombie scares later, and here you were, walking the interstate in the middle of Texas, your recent mode of transportation having broken down a couple miles back.

"Might as well take inventory," you grumbled to yourself, taking in a deep sigh as you plopped down on a barricade.

You found it comforting to talk every once in a while, even if it was to yourself.

Life in the apocalypse was lonely.

If you didn't, you'd probably forget how to talk all together.

Unzipping the duffel, you rummaged around, counting what you had.

2 grenades, a shotgun, a rifle, and a couple more magazines.

Not too shabby.

You suddenly heard a noise. A rumbling one.

It was a car engine.

Snapping your head over to its source, you could see a black Cadillac Escalade with a snow-plow attachment heading straight for you.

Fast.

Pro, driving means no zombie.

Con, sometimes humans are worse than the zombies.

Pro, they got a working car.

Con, might also have a working gun.

...

"I got guns, too," you smirked, pulling out your glock from your pants and staying seated, shifting so whoever couldn't see the weapon.

To your surprise, he pulled up right next to you, stepping out the car.

You held up your gun, pointing it between his eyes, and he cocked his lever action shotgun, pointing it at your chest.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his outfit.

He had on brown cowboy boots tucked under the hem of his blue jeans, a black v-neck, a leather jacket, tacky shades, and to top it all off, a brown, real deal Brazil hat.

He used his other hand to toss his shades, allowing you to see his blue eyes as the two of you stared each other down.

He was actually kind of handsome...in a rugged, apocalypse sort of way.

You raised a brow, removing the safety off your glock to show you were serious.

And he did the same thing, cocking his gun with a smug expression.

Still trying to hold out, you kept your position, but he raised a brow, making sure you really wanted to go there.

You caved.

With a sigh, you returned the safety, using your other hand to hold up a thumb.

He lowered his weapon, nodding toward his truck as he walked off to do something.

You threw your bag over your shoulder, trudging towards the passenger and opening the door.

Using your gun, you did a quick check of the car, making sure there wasn't anyone or anything present that could harm you.

"What're you lookin' for?" The man curtly asked with a country twang as he plopped down in the driver's.

It seems like he returned from kicking over a motorcycle.

"Danger," you answered, sitting down and shutting the door, turning to him with cold eyes.

"Nothin' back there but my duffel bag," he half-assured, something about the look in his eye letting you know he was telling the truth.

"Good," you nodded, turning to face the road.

He stared at you a moment, almost as if he was studying you, and what to do next.

"You say more than one word at a time?" He cocked a brow.

You turned to him seriously, "...Yes."

He sighed, accepting that that was probably the best he was gonna get, and turned the key to the ignition.

You tried to suppress the feelings of guilt, deciding to turn and look out the window.

But it kept clawing at you.

'This guy's doin' you a solid. Show at least a little gratitude, pig.'

"Thank you," you caved, keeping your eyes trained on the window.

Slightly taken aback, he turned to you, before snapping himself out of it.

"Don't mention it," he nodded, pulling off.

And as you started to find a steady speed, your eyes managed to catch a glance at the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat in the cup-holder.

God, you hadn't had a good drink since you raided that liquor store a couple weeks back.

"You mind?" You asked, cutting your eyes at the bottle as if you were a lion and it was a juicy gazelle.

He slightly smiled, "Knock yourself out."

You grabbed the bottle by its neck, taking a hard swig and relishing in the delicious burn with a sigh.

"You got a name?" You asked again, not letting the liquid courage go to waste.

"Stop," he quickly shut down, keeping his eyes on the road, "No names. Keeps us from gettin' too familiar."

Realizing he left his humongous knife on the armrest, he picked it up, tossing it in the back.

"Whatever you say, Crocodile Dundee," you shrugged, taking another swig.

He gave you a quick look, noting the comment before moving on.

You noticed this with a small smirk, but covered it by passing off the bottle.

"Where you headed?" He asked, taking it from you and knocking back his own swig.

"Jersey," you answered, scratching your head with the tip of your gun, "You?"

"Tallahassee," he replied.

A wonderfully terrible idea popped into your head.

"Y'know, Jersey and Tallahassee are both east..." you tried to lead.

"So?" He asked, turning to you.

You sighed, "So, Tallahassee, you wanna stick together? 'Til we reach a crossroads."

"Here's the deal, Jersey," he started, "I'm not easy to get along with...and I'm sensin' you're a bit of a bitch."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the last part, and you shot him a quick glare that told him to watch it.

"But...I'm willin' to take this relationship as far as Texarkana."

You shrugged, resting your cheek in your palm as you watched the window again, "Fine by me."

He scoffed with a smile, "You're a little ray of sunshine, aincha?"

"Like you're all peaches an' cream, Tex," you rolled your eyes, "Just drive."

"I can tell already you're gonna get on my nerves."

"Feeling's mutual."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

After driving an hour or so, picking up some scrawny kid on his way to Ohio, the three of you got to know each other slightly better.

Which made you realize just how fucked you were traveling with these two idiots, and how stupid you looked right now.

"We look fucking stupid right now," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"What are we doing here?" Columbus, the scrawny kid, asked, turning to Tallahassee.

"Well, take a look," Tal scoffed, "It's a goddamn Hostess truck."

And he was right.

The three of you had pulled over on the side of the road, where a large Hostess truck had fallen into a ditch.

"So what?" Columbus raised a brow.

"I could use a Twinkie," Tal proudly nodded, stepping forward to go down the hill.

You rolled your eyes, but followed, holding your gun at the ready.

Until you realized you were missing someone.

"You comin'?" You asked, turning to Scrawny.

"Yes. Yeah. Just one second," he puttered, suddenly starting to do squats and lunges.

You and Tal turned to each other, sharing the same disbelieving look before turning back to the idiot.

"You fuckin' with me?" Tal asked.

"No, I'm not," Columbus grunted, doing some sort of marching, "You should actually limber up as well. Especially if we're going down that hill. It is very important."

"I don't believe it. You ever see a lion limber up before it takes down a gazelle?" Tal scoffed.

Columbus paused, "...Fair enough."

You rolled your eyes, starting your descent and reaching the truck already.

"With the time you ladies take, I'll be dead before we get back on the road. Could we hurry this up?" You sighed.

The two men quickly joined you, and once Columbus was at the ready, you opened the door.

Only for hundreds of packages of Sno Balls to come pouring out.

But not a single Twinkie in sight.

"Sno Balls? Sno Balls?!" Tal began to rage, frantically sifting through the pile, "Where's the fuckin' Twinkies?!"

"I like Sno Balls," Columbus smiled with a full mouth, already chowing down.

"I hate coconut," Tal scoffed.

You gasped, but he was quick to correct himself.

"Not the taste, the consistency."

"Nearly had me," you mumbled, taking a bite of your own Sno Ball.

'I don't think I could travel with someone who doesn't like coconut.'

"Oh, this Twinkie thing, it ain't over yet," he assured, turning around and storming back up the hill.

You sighed, shifting your gun over your shoulder by it's strap, following him.

"Hey, this may be bad time," Columbus started, trailing close behind, "but I gotta take the Browns to the Superbowl."

"Again?" You cocked a brow, turning to him, "Might as well take the shitter with us."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"I've heard there's a place that's untouched by all this crap," Columbus started, laying down in the backseat.

"Back east, yeah?" You chimed, looking up into the rear-view.

"Yeah. You heard the same thing?" He perked up.

"No. I came from the east. Shit over there's just as terrible as here," you scoffed.

"Out west, we hear it's back east. Back east, they hear it's out west. It's all just nonsense," Tal shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, "You know, you're like a penguin on the North Pole who hears the South Pole is really nice this time of year."

"There are no penguins on the North Pole," Columbus corrected.

Tal turned, "You wanna feel how hard I can punch?"

You snickered, but hid it by turning to the window, deciding to zone out the conversation.

Until you missed a key shift.

"Wait, the last time I laid some pipe?" A sentence stuck out.

You were listening now.

"Last time you went twenty toes, put Percy in the playpen?" Tal tried to clarify.

"Who's Percy?" Columbus asked.

"Wallpapered the closet? Passed the gravy? Went heels to Jesus?"

"He can't understand you, hill-billy," you rolled your eyes.

"Oh, made love," the boy suddenly realized.

You and Tal winced at his...oddly intimate wording, "Well, just sex."

"It was three weeks ago. In the back of an abandoned FedEx truck," he caved.

"Shut up," Tal gasped in disbelief.

"I, uh, I was headed east. She was headed west. And we took shelter in the back of the truck. It was full of undelivered packages."

"What was her name?" You cocked a brow, skeptical.

"Uh...Beverly. Beverly Hills," he quickly scrambled.

"You dog," Tal nodded, proudly.

"Yeah, right," you shook your head.

"Why don't you tell us the last time you got fucked, Sunshine?" Tal asked, purposefully being blunt to embarrass you.

You glowed red, but quickly tried to play it off.

"I-." "Aye, aye, aye," he suddenly interrupted you, his attention turned to the she-zombie devouring the poor bastard in the middle of the road.

'Oh thankGod.'

It would've been embarrassing to admit you hadn't had sex since before the outbreak, especially after how much you were ragging on Columbus.

"Oh my God," Columbus grimaced, "You know, it makes you sad, it makes you...it makes you think if you can go back to the way things were right now...y'know you'd be out in the backyard, y'know, trying to catch fireflies. And instead...this."

"It makes you-." "Hungry," Tal admitted.

"Read my mind," you agreed, wishing you'd packed more Sno Balls.

"I'm worried about you two," Columbus sighed.

"Look, whatever you have waiting for you in Columbus, I promise you it ain't prettier than our friend here enjoying her Manwich," Tal explained, stepping on the gas.

Just as he drove past her, he kicked out his door, hitting her square in the head, knocking her over with a laugh.

"You're fucked," you chuckled, watching her roll like a tumbleweed in the rear-view.

"Hey, these fuckers destroyed the world. I'm allowed to have a lil' fun with 'em."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland #zombieland x reader #@novamariestark

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vicsnook · 8 months

Text

Cruel Summer | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 1613

warnings: Drinking, Hangman being Hangman, crying

song pairing: Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift

notes: Hey y'all!! This is pt.3 to Wildest Dreams and Exile but Jake's version ! Jake's parts will be posted every Sunday and you can find them in my masterlist once posted. Hope y'all like this one and please don't forget to like and reblog also thank you for the previous likes and reblogs!!!

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

You know that I caught it

Thursday night your phone rang at 3 AM waking you up. Jake’s face filling the screen as you reached for your phone. He hadn’t answered your calls or texts after Monday and avoided you at work by leaving after training.

You had taken Nat’s advice and sat down with Bob yesterday. Bob took it better than you thought he would and admitted he’d been out of line on Monday. Apologizing profusely for hitting Jake and hurting you in the process. Your relationship was not fixed yet but you both agreed to try to be friends.

When he asked if you and Jake were together or had plans to be you told him truthfully that you didn't know. He was understandably hurt that there was a possibility of you and Jake happening but understood that there was no use trying to mend your broken relationship even saying you both worked better as friends.

“Hello?” you mumbled sleepily as you answered. “Heyyy sweet heart” slurred a very drunk Jake. You rubbed your eyes trying to wake yourself up as you sat up on the bed. “What’s going on Jake?” you asked as you slid your feet into your slippers and headed for the kitchen to get some water.

“Just thinking about youuuu. I know you and Bobby boy will be back together soon and you’ll forget all aboutttt little ol’ me”

Bad, bad boy

Shiny toy with a price

You know that I bought it

“Jake, where are you?” you asked, worried about his drunken state. He never got drunk. Instead, he would get everyone else drunk because he thought it was funny. “No whereeeee.” he slurred, in response. “I’m on my way,” you told him as you grabbed your keys and headed out the door, recognizing the beach and bell sound in the background which meant he could only be in one place.

His incoherent words and singing coming through your car speakers caused you to roll your eyes as you quickly pulled into the Hard Deck. Jake’s truck and Penny’s car were the only ones in the parking lot. Heading for the door you noticed the motorcycle parked beside the building which only meant trouble.

“PEACHHH!” yelled Jake as you walked in. A very annoyed-looking Maverick was sitting beside him as Penny wiped down the bar. Maverick’s eyes scanned your attire which was a sweatshirt that belonged to Jake and sleeping shorts which made you wish you had changed before coming.

“You here for this one?” asked Maverick pointing at Jake. “Yep, I’m sorry if he’s caused y’all any trouble.” You answered, suddenly Jake started laughing hysterically for no apparent reason earning an eye roll from all three of you. “Has he paid his tab?” you asked Penny as Maverick hauled Jake outside and towards your car. “Not yet, and he got the bell rung on him when he put his phone on the bar” answered Penny, looking at you pitifully.

You pulled your card out of the back of your phone case and handed it to Penny. Your cheeks burned as you signed the $300 receipt and headed outside. Jake was sitting in your car already asleep when Maverick passed you back your keys.

“Look, I know it's not my business but be careful, please. I don't want you to get hurt again.” Said Maverick as you opened the door to get in the car. Turning back to look at him you noticed the worried look on his face. “I will be. Thanks, Mav,” you said closing the door. Jake was peacefully snoring beside you as you pulled off and headed to your house.

After 10 minutes of wrestling to get Jake into the house, you finally made it to the couch with him. You threw a blanket over him and carefully removed his shoes as he slept. His phone fell off his pocket when he turned the other way and as you grabbed it to put it on the coffee table it lit up.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

A picture of you with whipped cream all over your face from when you both played the pie-in-the-face game stared back at you. You quickly put down the phone and shook your head as you headed to your room and tried to sleep a little more before work.

—

Jake was still asleep when you had finished getting ready for work. You shook him and he groaned sitting up on the couch. He squinted at you as you got up to grab him water and some Advil.

“How did I get here?” he asked, taking a big gulp of the glass of water you handed him.

“You drank a little too much last night and I had to go get you. Also, you have 15 minutes to get ready or else you’re going to be late to work.”

“Fuck, I’ll be ready in 5, don't worry.” He said, heading to the hall bathroom for a much-needed shower. You pulled the flight suit out of your closet that he’d left there last weekend and shouted at him that his shirt and underwear were in the dryer. He shouted back a quick thank you and you headed to the kitchen to drink your coffee.

And it's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

And it's ooh, whoa, oh

It's a cruel summer

Jake came out of the bathroom with a towel hanging around his waist asking where his clothes were since the dryer was empty. You let your eyes wander around his torso as you head to check the indeed empty dryer which reminded you that you had actually put his clothes in your drawer. He followed you to your room and you handed him the clothes which he accepted with a grateful nod.

“I talked to Bob” you blurted out as he is sliding on his shirt. He nodded as you turn around so he can finish getting dressed.

“How did that go?” He asked walking out past you towards the kitchen.

“Um. it went well I think. We agreed we’d be better as friends and he knows about us.”

You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times

We're not trying

“Us?” He looked over at you with a confused look on his face. Your stomach turned as you grabbed your keys and shrugged heading out the door without answering. He followed closed behind and got in the car as you started it.

“I didnt mean that as a bad thing, Peach,” he told you as you pulled off the driveway. “We just haven't gotten the chance to talk about anything since Monday.” he continued as you drove to the Academy. You nodded in response trying to figure out exactly how to respond.

“Um, Jake, where exactly are we wanting to go with this?” you asked putting the car in park. “I don’t know, Peach. I like you obviously but things are a whole lot more complicated now that Bob is back,” he said, watching as you stuffed the keys in your suit pocket. “I mean it doesn't have to be. He is okay with us being an us if that ever happens” you said, unsure of your words since you’d come to realize Bob was probably just being nice which was confirmed by the look on Jake’s face. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said and you both headed inside.

Jake headed home early after getting sick on the tarmac presumably due to all the alcohol he had last night. So after you were all dismissed you headed home grateful for the weekend ahead.

—

That night Rooster had texted you to come down to the Hard Deck as everyone was out there. When you arrived you noticed Jake was sitting at the bar talking to some blonde chick who seemed to be hanging on to every word he said.

That made it a no-brainer to down the shots Fanboy graciously offered as you played pool with him and Bob. The shots added up quickly as you stumbled to the bathroom and threw up. You splashed your face and headed back out to head home just to find the blonde and Jake making out in the hallway.

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

The tears spilled down your face as you hurried out the back door. Rooster and Nat were sitting in the sand when you made it outside. “Hey Peach!” hollered Rooster, his smile quickly fading as he noticed the tears streaming down your face. “Can one of you take me home please?” you asked and Nat nodded yes as she stood up and led you to her car.

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

“What’s wrong?” asked Rooster from the passenger seat as you looked out the window. “Nothing, I just had too much to drink,” you mumbled back. “It’s not nothing, Peach” replied Nat but dropped it as soon as she saw your face through the rearview mirror. “Thank you,” you said, as they waved you goodbye when you got out of the car.

You laid on your bed not even taking off your smudged makeup shortly after coming inside. Letting sleep engulf you as your tears fell when you pictured Jake taking that girl home.

taglist: @harperdoodle, @weirdothatwritess, @rosiahills22

click here for the next part

#Spotify

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band--psycho · 1 year

Text

Chibs Telford x Reader-Stuck With You

The next story for my Christmas Writing Challenge, requested by the amazing @munsinner

I hope you all enjoy this!💛

Prompt-What do you mean we're stuck here?!

Warnings - Smut (18+)

“What do you mean we’re stuck here?” Y/n asked, frustration lacing her voice.

She was sat in a broken down car, with the last man she wanted to be with, Chibs fucking Telford. Of all the people in the world, she had to be stuck in a car with him.

She didn’t use the word hate often, but she definitely hated him. Most people hate the first person to break their heart and Chibs did that.

He might've as well just torn her heart out of her chest and stomped on it.

She was twenty, when she fell for the Scotsman of the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle group. No one knew about their relationship; it was a secret that they both kept, mainly because they didn’t want other people to have an opinion on their relationship.

She was twenty-one when he broke her heart. She couldn’t bear being around him, watching him flirt with other women as though she didn’t exist, so when a job opportunity in New York came up, she took it without hesitation.

That was four years ago, and yet still when she saw him her heart ached.

A small scoff left Chibs’ lips. He didn’t particularly want to be stuck in a car with Y/n either. Being stuck in a car with the women he was head over heels for but could never have, wasn’t exactly a great thing for him.

But he wanted to see her again, he missed her…that’s why he agreed to collect her from the hotel she was staying in while Jax and the others sorted out some slightly difficult business while Gemma and Tara got things sorted for the Christmas party. Gemma and Clay didn’t know Y/n was coming to the Christmas party, it was a surprise her and Jax had sorted out.

He knew she hated him.

He broke her heart.

Though inbreaking her heart, he also broke his own, because he did love Y/n Teller. Even to this day.

But he had to end their relationship. For her safety and the clubs, all because of Jimmy O.

He’d taken an interest in Y/n and managed to spot the feelings Chibs had for her..,,of course Chibs could’ve told the club about his and Y/ns relationship, told them about the threat Jimmy O had made to him, so that they could keep her safe…but he knew that the club needed Jimmy O, so he ended his relationship with Y/n.

“I mean, we’re stuck here,” he replied, his voice softer than hers but an evident sense of irritation.

“You’re a mechanic, can’t you fix it?” Y/n scoffed.

Chibs shook his head, “I could try if I had any of the tools, but oddly enough Lass, I didn’t expect to be breaking down,”

‘This can’t be happening’ Y/n thought to herself, as a frustrated sigh left her lips as she looked at her phone; no service.

She opened the car door, the sharp chill in the air making her regret her decision to leave the warmth of the car almost instantly and it certainly made her regret her clothing choices of a thin jumper dress and heeled boots; but she’d rather freeze than stay in the car with him for a moment longer. All she had to do was walk far enough to get a signal on her phone, then she could call a taxi, get away from Chibs and get to the party to see her family.

So she started walking.

“Y/n where are you going?” Chibs questioned as he also exited the car.

She ignored him and just kept walking.

“Y/n, just stop,”

Again, Y/n ignored him, until her steps were halted when she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.

For a split second, she felt her heart flutter as though it had never been broken…then all the memories came washing back over her as she attempted to recoil from him.

“Why are you doing this? Acting like you give a shit about me?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper; she couldn’t understand him. He broke her heart and then acted like she didn’t even exist, and yet in his eyes, Y/n thought he saw genuine care for her.

And that not only confused her but angered her as well.

“Because I do give a shit about ye,” he answered, squeezing her wrist slightly.

“Don’t-“

“I love ya, Y/n”

“No you don’t, and I don’t love you,”

Chibs knew she was lying, even after all these years, she was still a terrible liar.

He didn’t know what came over him, but he knew that nothing he said, she’d believe.

So he pulled her towards him and placed his lips on hers before she had a chance to say anything.

Y/n wanted to pull away from the kiss and slap him, before walking away from him.

But she didn’t, instead she found herself melting into the kiss.

Her hands tangled into his silvering hair, while his hands moved to her waist.

Quickly the kiss became heated. Full of desire and longing but also anger and hurt.

Soon enough and without breaking the kiss, Y/n's back was pressed up against the car.

“I hate you,” Y/n mumbled against his lips, trying to ignore how aroused he’d made her, just from a kiss. While also trying to ignore his erection which was pressing against her and how much she wanted his dick in her mouth.

A low chuckle left Chibs’ lips as one of his hands lifted reached down to under her dress. His hand gently slipped past the thin material of her panties, his thumb began to rub small circles on her clit while one of his fingers slipped insideher dampening pussy.

“Is that why ye’re already soaked, love?” He cooed in her ear, hearing a small moan leave her lips at his words.

Y/n wanted to argue with him; to stop him from doing what he was doing; but despite the anger that was boiling in her veins, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop.

The last time she’d felt pleasure like this was the last time they’d slept together; sure she’d slept with a few guys when she was in New York, but none of them had made her feel this good, and she knew he hadn’t even really started yet.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her dripping pussy for what felt like hours to Y/n, but in reality it was only a few torturous minutes; he watched with a smirk on his while Y/n attempted to hold back her moans.

“Don’t hold back on me, love, let me hear ye,”

As he said those he added another finger inside of her, eliciting a loud moan from her lips.

God he’d almost forgotten how much he loved it when she made that sound.

He knew she was close; he could tell by how quick her breathing was and how her hips were bucking against him, she was near enough bouncing on his fingers.

For a few seconds, his fingers paused their movements, though his thumb still continued to rub her overly sensitive clit.

Then he continued. Faster. Hitting her g-spot each and every time.

“Cum,” he whispered softly against her lips, before connecting their lips once again, swallowing the moan that came from Y/n as Y/n's euphoric orgasm ripped through her body.

It was safe to say her panties were soaked as was Chibs’ hand.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered; pressing his forehead against hers; his dry hand moving to her face, caressing her cheek.

She looked up at him with questionable eyes; she didn’t want him to stop. She should’ve. She hated him. That’s what she kept telling herself anyway, but the truth was she still loved him.

“Tell me to stop, otherwise I’m gonna bend ye over the hood of this car and fuck ye,”

~~~~~~

He bent her over and fucked her over the hood of the car; he also made her cum two more times when they got back in the car; and now they were cuddled up in the backseat with a spare blanket Chibs had in the trunk of his car.

Neither of them had really said anything to each other since they got cuddled up under the blanket, even though both of their minds were racing with things to say to one another.

“Why did you do it?” Y/n asked quietly, anxiously playing with her fingers, trying desperately to keep herself together.

Chibs knew what she was talking about.

So he explained it, all of it, everything that Jimmy O had told him, the threats he made against her and the club.

To say Y/n was shocked would’ve been an understatement; but she was also still angry at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The tone of her voice, clearly showing her anger.

“Ye would’ve stayed,” he sighed, his hand rubbing her arm soothingly, in an attempt to calm her anger.

“Of course I would’ve stayed, I love you,”

She only realised what she’d said when she saw how Chibs’ eyes softened.

“So where do we go from here, love?” He questioned, wondering what her admission meant. If it changed anything between them or if there was no possible way for them to go back to how they once were.

Truth was, Y/n didn’t know.

She loved him. But she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again, even though she somewhat understood the reason he didn’t tell her. It still hurt that he kept the truth from her.

“I love you, Filip,” she began, placing her hand over his, “but even after all this, we can’t just jump back in to what we were,”

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, “I know,”

It was going to be a long road; for both of them. But both of them were willing to try and again; because the truth was, they’d both been miserable without each other.

“Think we’re gonna be late to the Christmas party,” Chibs chuckled as Y/n nestled into his chest.

“I’m sure someone will come and find us,” Y/n said; and as if in cue they both heard a motorcycle engine relatively close by and they both frantically got dressed before getting found by Tig who was on his motorcycle and Jax, who pulled up beside them in Gemma’s car.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @i-just-read-stuff @05supernatural20 @heyitskat101 @beeroses @skyofficialxx @sassymox @jitterbugs927 @rebelwrites @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @xbreezymeadowsx @munsonx @may85 @lady-writes-flanagan @little-diable @beth-gallagher22 @oskea93 @lexondeck @thexhostess @tempt-ress @choochoo284 @bl3333h @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @devilishducky97 @meteora-fc @the-mayan-queen @rosieposie0624 @withmyteeth @thekaelicobain @elliewigginton20 @chibsgirl143 @chibsytelford @samanthaofanarchy @itscheybaby @bookworm1767 @missbee1095 @xxemberlights @igotmajordaddyissues @stillbreathin

#soa x reader #soa imagines #soa imagine #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford imagines #chibs telford smut #chibs imagine #chibs imagines #sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy chibs #chibs soa #soa chibs

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latenightgasstationwalk · 7 months

Text

List of things Sweeney has done that I don’t talk about because no one would believe me

1. Beat up a guy who forced his way into the womens bathroom at jimmy Johns

2. Made some random guy clean the bathrooms after getting them dirty. also at jimmy Johns

3. Go out and get everyone who lived in our house a gun after our house got broken into

4. Made me drive around with him in the absolute worst neighborhoods in milwaukee (with guns) in search for his Honda Civic that had just been stolen.

5. Texted me “why is the door locked” while I was at work and by the time I texted him back he had already kick our door down and replaced it.

6. Bought a new stove one day out of the blue and when I asked why he said “there’s like one million little mouse shits inside this stove”

7. Shot our ceiling with a revolver from the 1940’s that he was cleaning while loaded.

8. Leave a motorcycle engine in the oven for 6 months that he was “heat treating” whatever that means.

9. Smoke a bare minimum of 20 blunts a day with almost no change in his demeanor

10. Walk out on my first day of training as a manager because he had to beat up one of his roommates

11. Fire me at 10pm on cinco de Mayo while I was already very very drunk

12. Forced me to drink an entire bottle of whiskey (Jim beam 🤮 )with him on the 4th of July when we both had to be at the store by 5am the next morning.

13. Literally bought a car off Craigslist every Fucking month. Every month he’d be selling whatever he got the month before and buying something else. Always for a profit but never really getting out of the used car circuit. He even had a 89 corvette for a while.

There’s so much more but I’d have to like sit and remember it all.

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imreallyloveleee · 8 months

Text

for @auroraworldtourftbughead who asked about my "road trip to ohio" fic: ok so this is a s5 au that i started writing back in Feb/Mar. it picks up a few weeks after they find Polly's body, ie at the point in the show where it became extremely clear that they were just dropping the arc they'd been building for Betty & Jughead and veering off in another nonsensical direction. i really want to finish this one and correct the sins of late s5, lol. (and i just miss jughead's family!) here is a snippet from the beginning of the story:

It’s just past eight in the evening. She’s dragging the trash bins from the garage out to the sidewalk for tomorrow morning’s pickup when she sees him standing in the driveway next door, struggling to wrestle an oversized duffle bag into the storage compartment of his motorcycle.

“Jug. Hey.” She’s already halfway across the yard between their houses by the time he notices her. His eyes soften from surprise to mild concern as she approaches.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

Betty mulls for a moment over her response. It’s a fair question to ask someone three weeks after they found their sister’s body rotting in the trunk of a rusting, broken junkyard sedan. She doesn't especially want to answer; she's just tired of coming up with ways to change the subject.

Thankfully the scene she's stumbled upon makes it easy. She gestures to the bag. "Hanging in there. What’s this?”

Jughead sighs, giving the duffel bag another half-hearted shove, to no avail. “I’m heading to Ohio for JB’s graduation.”

Recognition flickers dimly in her memory. He’d mentioned this to her weeks ago, when they were deep in investigation mode, one of probably a thousand things he’d said that had filtered in and out of her brain like water through a sieve. She’d said something like oh, my god, she’s graduating already? we’re so old! in response, and then promptly returned to obsessing over their latest clue in the hunt for the highway killer.

“But I guess the gift I got her is too big for this stupid thing –”

“You’re driving all the way to Ohio on a motorcycle?” she interrupts. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t that, like, a seven hour drive?”

He shifts his gaze away from her, towards the Andrews house, which she interprets as yes, I know this is a dumb fucking idea and no, I don’t want to talk about it.

After the last few months she's had, she can relate.

“It’s tomorrow,” he says. “I was supposed to leave yesterday, but – I kind of got distracted, with everything that’s been going on.”

Betty tries not to react to that. He must mean “everything” that’s been going on with Tabitha – her parents’ arrival in town, their burgeoning relationship. Kevin had seen them out at a restaurant together with the Tates, holding hands at the dinner table. Betty wishes they’d just make it public already, post a couple's photo on Instagram or something. It’s getting uncomfortable, pretending she doesn’t know.

He's muttering to himself, hoisting the duffel bag out of the storage compartment and onto his shoulder. "Maybe if I repack this into a backpack instead…"

“You can take my car, if you want,” she offers, and then, without allowing herself to actually consider what she’s proposing, adds, “Or…I could come with you.”

Jughead freezes, his eyes darting from her face to her car where it sits in the opposite driveway, and then back again. “Oh, no – I couldn’t ask –”

“We could tag-team the driving. And I’d love to see JB and your dad, and…everyone.” She doesn’t actually know if Gladys is still in the picture or not. “To be honest, I – I really need to get out of this house for a few days.”

She knows how she sounds: desperate. But she also knows that if anyone in her life can come anywhere close to understanding what this is like – what it means to be the child of a parent who is a walking, weeping open wound, a gaping hole of need that cannot possibly be filled – it’s Jughead.

(And she feels guilty for thinking of her grieving mother in those terms, she really does, but the truth is she’s suffocating. Put on your own oxygen mask first, Dr. Glass told her all those years ago. It was just about the only useful thing he'd imparted to her in a cumulative sixteen hours of therapy, other than a prescription for Adderall.)

“At least take the car,” she insists. “You can’t even fit your stuff in here.”

Jughead’s lips press together. His eyes flit back towards the house again – only the garage light is on, which is where he’s been staying. “You’re sure you want to sit in a car with me for seven hours? I’ve got terrible taste in music.”

Her face breaks out into a tremulous smile. It feels weird, but good – the first uncontrolled display of emotion she’s had in weeks that wasn’t borne of despair.

“I’m sure.”

#bughead #bughead fic #fic #my fic #riverdale #riverdale fic #i have shared a few paragraphs from this before...a section that makes it clear jug is not actually dating tabitha lol

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leeahqueen · 7 months

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The Remaining Dust Trio (CER-04)

CER-04

Do you think those who drive red motorcycles are all ascendant?

On this deserted road with no end in sight, the car driven by Vera passed by like a wild horse running wild.

In fact, generally speaking, Vera’s driving skills are certainly the best among the Cerberus squad, at least much better than Noctis or No.21 who crashed the car to pieces.

But even she couldn’t explain why the car would have various problems when she drove it herself. It seems that the problem was not with Noctis or No.21, but with the three of them.

For example, from the beginning of this mission, Vera never let Noctis touch the steering wheel – except when pushing the car. But the old car broke down halfway.

Noctis: Hey, captain, do you want to take a break?

Noctis: You’ve been driving the car for seventeen hours since it was repaired.

Vera: Hey, since when did you care about others so much?

Of course, Vera could hear Noctis’s little thoughts, it was nothing more than itchy hands.

Noctis could only continue to look bored at the monotonous gray and yellow color that kept passing behind the car window, and No.21 with both sleeves hanging out of the car window.

No.21: Two hundred and thirty-three… Thirty-three… Thirty-four…

Noctis: What do you count to, 21?

No.21: The cactus we passed.

The loose sleeves of No.21 were flapping in the wind. Sometimes she would point the cuffs in the direction of the car and fill the entire sleeve with wind, inflating it like two balloons.

Noctis: Cactus… is there anything special about it?

No.21: I heard that some cacti like armadillos very much and will hold them in their arms…

Noctis: So, you done watch this cactus?

No.21: No, No.21 still counting…

Noctis: ………

Noctis sighed, turned his head, and continued to look at the monotonous scenery outside his car window.

Noctis: Hey, captain.

Vera: What again?

Noctis: What are we going to do this time? This is the first time I have received such a boring mission.

Noctis: Let alone people, I didn’t see any animals along the way, they were all… cacti.

Noctis glanced at No.21, who was still amusing herself with counting cacti, and complained.

Vera: I don’t know that much either.

Vera: This time it was Murray who sent me the mission directly, but he only gave me the destination.

Vera: Isn’t it because of you?

Noctis opened his mouth to retort but smacked his lips and said nothing.

Although the Cerberus squad has flexible rights to self-action and disposal, it is already quite free compared to other execution units.

However, leaving the team without authorization will also affect multiple organizations and even cause diplomatic consequences. Even Murray can only temporarily limit his authority. The Cerberus squad was ‘in confinement’ for a while.

Noctis: Tsk.

No.21: Two hundred and thirty-five…

Noctis: 21, let’s go together later—

The huge crash finally subsided, and the car came to stop a little by little.

Vera cursed quite rarely, moved her foot off the brake, raised her leg and kicked open the car door, Noctis and No.21 also got out of the car.

Noctis: Look, look, look? I told you earlier that it would be better for me to drive.

Noctis: Well, now, the car has been knocked off and the windshield has been shattered into pieces. Doesn’t that mean you can’t see anything clearly?

Vera pulled Noctis away and punched the glass window, which was shattered into pieces. The whole glass fell.

Vera: Can you see clearly now?

No.21: Captain… someone.

Vera: What?

Noctis: Did you see what you hit just now?

Vera: No but looking at the things on the ground… it must be some kind if rags.

Vera kicked the broken parts on the ground and continued to ask No.21.

Vera: Who?

No.21: Behind the car, a person was lying on the ground. There in also a… red motorcycle.

No.21 raised the half-cut cactus she got from nowhere and pointed at the car accident scene not far behind the car.

Noctis: What! It can’t be the ascendant —

Vera: Would an ascendant stupid enough to stand on the road and let me hit them? Do you think everyone who drives a red motorcycle is an ascendant?

Vera took out the medicine box under the car seat and walked in the direction where No.21 pointed at.

Noctis: What else could it be?

No.21: Man driving a red motorcycle.

Noctis: Eh?

No.21: That’s… the guy who drives the red motorcycle in the movie, hasn’t Noctis seen it?

Vera: Noctis! No.21!

Vera’s voice came not far away, instructing the two of them to go there together.

Noctis: Hmm… I’ll talk about it later, but one day I will also learn to drive a motorcycle.

No.21: Noctis certainly wouldn’t.

Noctis: Why! I am very talented!

???: Ouch… it hurts! It hurts!

???: Hey! What are you doing—um—

While the scavenger leaning on the roadside was not paying attention, Noctis stuffed a towel into his mouth and nodded towards Vera.

With Vera’s force, the wooden splinter originally inserted into the man’s ankle was pulled out. The she immediately disinfected the wound skillfully, then sprayed anti-infection antibiotic to before applied the bandage.

???: Hah… hah…

Vera: Okay, just bite something to relieve yourself, don’t suffocate yourself to death.

???: Ouch… it’s actually… such a big piece of wood…

Vera: Alright now?

???: Much better, just… a little itchy?

Vera: Pain is normal.

Noctis: You are lucky. Fortunately, we just hit your motorcycle.

Noctis: But speaking of it, the captain can also cure diseases and save people when using this frame? It’s really strange.

???: Uh…

???: This motorcycle originally broke down and is now on the verge of being scrapped.

Vera: …Let me start by saying, I didn’t see that your wound was caused by us.

???: It’s not your fault, this motorcycle was thrown out by me when it broke down. Damn it… it’s still head-down. It’s better to be alive.

Noctis: This paint, looks dangerous… but I like it.

Vera: Paint?

???: Hey, I don’t know whether I should thank you or ask you to compensate for my motorcycle…

The man sitting on the back read some danger from Vera’s “kind smile” and immediately change the topic.

Huzi: By the way, cough, my name is “Huzi”, and I am… a movie player.

The man pointed to the movie projector and a large bad of film that were well protected behind him.

Noctis: Oh? Are you the kind of person who shows movie?

Vera: Have you met him?

Noctis: It’s not like I’ve seen him before, but when I was in town before, I heard that there were people like this who wandered around and showed movies to the communities.

Huzi: Indeed, as you can see.

Huzi: But fortunately, it was just a motorcycle that was damaged, and the film and projector were fine.

No.21: Do you play movies?

No.21 approached “Huzi” and looked at the movie machine behind him curiously.

Huzi: Of course, there are quite a few movies, such as Ouch—

No.21: Sorry… No.21 would like to know if there is a movie about a person…

No.21 hid the cactus in his hand, Huzi had no choice but to pick the thorns from his arm with a wry smile.

And taking advantage of No.21 and Huzi chatting, Noctis dragged Vera to the pile of “motorcycle” not far away.

Vera: Tsk, what’s wrong?

Noctis: Captain, I think we should take him with us?

Vera: What?

Noctis: After all, …‘we’ accidentally crashed his motorcycle.

Vera: Didn’t you hear what he just said? His car broke down before we came. I treated him for the wound he suffered form the fall, and he still had to thank me.

Noctis: That’s what you say but look at this pile. There’s no way to fix this.

Noctis pointed to the pile of parts in front of him.

Vera: From being unable to open to being unable to open, is there any difference?

Noctis: It’s better for me to drive. If I drive, I won’t hit him!

Vera: Oh? Are you still capable?

No.21: Captain…

Vera turned around and wanted to ask No.21 what happened but found that No.21 was on guard on the road towards which they were coming.

No.21: The road… smells like an enemy.

Read: CER-03 | CER-04 | CER-06

#punishing gray raven #pgr vera #pgr noctis #pgr no.21

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 years

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Synopsis: You go on a date with Fuegoleon, a man, who dresses smart, but is being vague about a lot of things. Like he can’t tell you something. Through an event, you learn that he is a leader of a biker gang, and is using the money he’s making with his company to fund it. But. He can’t mix these two worlds. Too much at least. Perhaps you are the one to entice this mysterious, gentlemanly and alluring man.

Pairing: Fuegoleon Vermillion x f!reader

Type: Biker!AU mini series

Warnings: eventual smut, suggestive themes, sexual themes, otherwise general/angst/fluff at a canon typical level; smut chapter, minors DNI, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (?), assertive reader, creampie, I do consider this as somewhat heavy smut so read accordingly

Chapter length: ~3,7k

A/N: it’s a long chapter but I didn’t want to cut it, so... um... enjoy~

Tag list: @spark-gem @just-a-fuegoleon-fangirl @hybridanafrost

Chapter 4: Passion

It’s been a week since I saw him; since he picked me up after my car had broken down. I haven’t heard of him since. Though, I’m not sure if I can blame him.

It was a weird evening. And there was a lot to think about. But I didn’t see a reason to talk about it to anyone. Because it was his secret, and everyone has secrets.

I sit back in my chair at home, sipping a drink as I get a text.

“Can I come over? -Fuegoleon” It says.

I have to think about it for a while. Because it’s… it doesn’t seem straight forward. But then again, what really is? Plus, he is intriguing, kind, and gentle… He’s helpful. In a lot of ways, he’s much better than anyone I’ve had in my life.

“Sure” I text back. And I wait.

After a while there’s the sound of an engine, the familiar, low, beast -like growl, and a knock.

I open the door and welcome him in.

His helmet is placed on a table in the hallway, and his boots are left at the entrance. This time, too, I offer him a drink, which he takes. And then we just stand there. The kitchen counter is between us as silence lingers.

“I…” he begins. “I didn’t mean to… seem like I was trying to be dishonest with you,” he tells me. “But I … made this choice, to try and keep my work life and private life separate, because it’d be rather… counterproductive for the company image to have a CEO who’s also a leader of a motorcycle gang.”

“Then why have a gang?” I ask. It’s a fair question.

He sighs, and his shoulders hunch forward. “Because it’s… as ludicrous as it seems, it’s a way to help. There’s a lot of terrible things happening out there, and there’s always not anyone coming to help. So, I thought that I wanted to play a more… concrete hand in assisting the good in the world.”

So, the stories are true, and the rumours are just rumours…

“I know just how insane it sounds-“

“It doesn’t.”

He looks at me, as if he’s evaluating how honest I’m being with him.

“It’s…” I utter, looking up as I try to choose the words. “There are stories, going around, about the deeds of your gang. And they’re largely good. The good outweighs the bad, by far, actually,” I admit. “So, I…”

“You’re saying that you believe me?” He asks, and I… I hesitate.

Not because I wouldn’t believe him, but because I don’t exactly know why I believe him. Maybe because I want to believe him, since he did a good, kind… heroic thing for me. Maybe. Maybe, I just want to believe him.

“Yeah,” I reply, finally, after a short pause. But I look him in the eye as I do so.

There’s another pause, and he looks like he wants to ask a question. But he’s not sure if he should ask it.

However, the thing is… he needs to.

“There’s just… Some time back, I had a … I confided to someone with both sides of my life. Because I wanted to be honest with her. And the next day I found that she had sold the story to a magazine. Of course, it was taken as just a rumour and died down in the long run. Especially because we separated the very same day, it was taken as her just wanting to be … malicious, but it… umm…”

I stay quiet for a while as he talks, waiting if he still needs to continue.

But as he doesn’t, I do. “So, you find it hard to trust people with it.”

He nods. Just once but he does. “My question is: why didn’t you?” He looks at me. His gaze is sincere and inquiring. He really wants to know.

“Because I…” I try to think of a reason. But the statement that comes to mind is just that it’s something one doesn’t do. So, my reply is genuine. “Because it’d be a shitty thing to do.”

My answer isn’t eloquent. I can be eloquent if I want to, but none of the words I can think of on the spot, other than the ones I uttered, seem to carry enough meaning and emotion. And my answer makes him chuckle.

“Look…” I begin again. “I like you. I like you a lot, and I …” I wonder how should I continue that statement. Because it’s just that. I like him. Simple as that.

“And you want to see where this goes?” He asks with an undertone that carries hope with it.

I take a moment, a couple of seconds before I look back at him. “Yes.”

Simple as that. I do want to see where this goes. He had his reasons to try and keep his personal life private, to not reveal everything about himself right off the bat; because he’s gotten hurt. And it’s not like I revealed everything about myself instantly either. That’s just how it is.

But. I am intrigued. And. I like him.

His curious, expecting expression melts away, and his lips tug up into a smile as he circles around the counter.

“I’m… glad… to hear that…”

He’s now standing right in front of me.

I straighten my back, and that makes his eyes widen.

“I’m sorry, I’m being too frank and-“ he tries to take a step back, but I take a hold of his hand.

“Maybe… maybe a bit,” I admit, because I didn’t expect him to come so close. But… I can’t say that the longing… yearning for closeness… to be held and cared for… would be unfamiliar for me. “But I… don’t mind.”

His gaze cascades over me, full of adoration. His steps are no longer trying to carry him further away from me, but instead he’s leaning closer. It’s as if he’s seeing something tender, something rare and divine right before him, and he can’t, for the life of him, pull away.

And I don’t want him. I don’t want him to pull away.

So, I lean closer.

He smells like lavender, leather and machine oil… And he’s warm… so very warm… I place my hands onto his broad… strong chest… and let my palms slide up onto his shoulders. The tips of my fingers push away strands of his silken hair.

I didn’t think they’d be so soft… But they are. And they glide over my skin so easily.

I close my eyes and tilt my head up, little by little trying to inch closer to his face.

My right hand keeps climbing up, and brushes a strand of his hair behind his ear as his hand settle onto my waist. I crack my eyelids open just enough to see his lips.

They’re right there, like a forbidden berry. Something I ought not have.

Why I shouldn’t have, is something I don’t know. I just know that I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t… for some reason I’m not even sure that matters.

But his mouth keeps hovering over mine, and his arms keep me in place. The hold is strong and secure. And I remember… I remember the ride home from the other night. I remember how his bike vibrated between my legs, sending waves through me. I remember the cool night air, mixing together with that familiar scent of lavender. And I remember how my body was pressed against him.

It was so warm then too, but now it’s like it’s blazing.

For a moment I have to wonder if I’m like a moth being drawn to a flame, an open fire. But I don’t care. I want the burn. I yearn it. I carve it.

I need it.

And that is when I faint whimper leaves my lips as I breath in his scent again.

The sound makes his hold tighten, and he presses his mouth against mine. His tongue licks my lips, asking to be let in. And as I try to gasp for air, I welcome him.

His tongue swirls together with mine in the space that connects our mouths as I sink my fingers into his hair. And I lean into him. Press myself against him.

Which is a mistake of the very best kind.

Because I can feel his already thick, long, hard cock through the fabric of his pants. And it makes me grind against him with the entire length of my body, moaning into the kiss.

His lips turn into a smirk. And it’s delicious. The taste is decadent, sultry… sweet like caramel. Which makes me push him, nudge him closer to the nearest arm chair.

He moves, going along with the pushes and nudges of my much smaller form with that smile. The backs of his legs hit against the edge of the seat, and he half sits, half falls onto it, so that he’s now looking up at me.

And I look at him.

His jacket is open, revealing his white t-shirt. And now, as he’s laid in front of me, I can see his long member that’s still hidden within the confines of his pants, which makes me salivate. It makes a wave of warmth course through me, settling between my legs; my folds throb and my core twists, like it’s trying to hold onto him already.

“Need a ride… Sir?” I ask, tilting my head; biting my lip, as I let my gaze travel up and down his form.

He chuckles, the amusement reaching his eyes as he gives me a smile that tastes like a smirk. “I do,” he purrs while staying in his seat, not even attempting to get up.

But he doesn’t need to.

“Take off your jacket,” I tell him with a nudge of my head, my eyes cascading over him with hunger; like I’m starving. Like I am a beast, and only his kisses, passion and desire can satisfy me.

“My jacket?” He quirks an eyebrow through his smirk as he leans forward just enough to slip the garment off of him, and he looks at me, from under his brow. There’s a question in that gaze, as well as amusement.

“Mhm,” I hum as I take a swaying step closer to him and take off my shirt.

His shirt hugs his muscles, leaving very little to the imagination. The outline of his chest… his arms… the only thing that I’m left guessing, waist up, is his pecks. But I know they must be there. They must…

He looks at me eyes full of hunger and adoration. His eyes, deep purple, and soft, like velvet, admire me, like he doesn’t mind being under me, because it grants him a full view.

I climb on top of me, sitting on his lap, facing him, and I press my lips against his in a hungry, starving kiss as I grind my hips against his. The bulge… it seems to grow, or then it quivers in anticipation, maybe both.

Maybe both…

Yes both…

Yes… yes, yes… yesss…

I can feel the fabric of my own panties, now soaked through.

His hands, on my waist, trail down onto my ass, and he gives a squeeze. He presses his fingers into my skin, through the fabric of my skirt, and grinds his hips in return.

I bend my head back, and he immediately goes for my neck, lips dancing over my skin with passion, desire and lust… like I was air and he was drowning.

“My knight in a leather jacket…” I half purr, half moan before pressing a kiss onto his forehead, and I can feel his smile widen.

His left hand trails up, onto the clasp of my braw.

“No longer in a leather jacket,” he murmurs against my skin, right before there’s a snap, as the clasp opens up.

And I toss the bra away.

His hand circles around my body, and he clasps my nipple between his fingers as his lips claim mine again.

I moan into the kiss again in an effort to relief some of the burning, licking, engulfing sensation of my own desire.

But I can’t. And so, my hand trails down and I lift my hips just enough to undo his pants.

He lets go of me, just long enough to aid me in my endeavours. But our mouths don’t separate. Not until his pants are lowered to his thighs, and he’s holding onto his own cock, as I push my panties away, revealing my already dripping folds.

And I lower down.

The tips, the succulent, thick, tip of his cock presses against my entrance, and I look at him with half lidded eyes.

His gaze flickers between mine, and my hand; how my clit peeks from under my skirt.

My lips part, and I continue my descend.

He stretches my walls apart, inch by inch. And it feels too good to tell. Too good to describe. It’s like he’s filling me up, but at the same time he fits perfectly in.

By the time our hips are again connected, I have to arch my back, because he’s pressing against my cervix, as if he’s giving me a deep, hungry kiss down there as well.

His hands grasp onto me, and he growls, clenching his teeth as he’s trying to keep himself from pounding into me.

But that growl is … it takes a hold of me, making my insides squeeze him, because I do want him. I want him to pound into me. I want his cock to hit against my cervix. I want him to pour his thick, hot semen right into me, inside me, until I can’t hold any more inside, and I overflow.

I want him…

I want… so I rock my hips against him, with a grinding motion. The fabric of my skirt presses against my clit, rubbing it, adding pressure.

My eyes are closed as I bite my molars together, and I keep rocking into him. My pace keeps growing and growing, and his hold of me intensifies. His hands are holding onto my hips, as if he’s trying to beg me to stay there, right where his cock can reach me.

His forearms press against my thighs, like he’s trying to press me harder against him.

And I don’t mind. No… I want him. I want him to press me harder against him. I want him to slam his hips up as I hit mine down. I want to hear our skins slapping together through the rushing of blood in my ears.

I moan in my gasp, and I can feel my core trying to grasp onto him. My hips… they begin slamming into him, as my jaw clenches.

“Fuck me!” I tell him, eyes closed as I dance over him, around him.

And he… he does as I tell him.

His told, already secure, increases. His hands on my hips, forearms along the length of my thighs, hold onto me. And then he slams his hips up. Just like I wanted to.

He thrusts up, hitting against my cervix in a way I didn’t anticipate. It’s as if he’s trying to throw me off his lap, but his hands keep me there. And I gasp. I gasp because he’s taking my breath away. I gasp because my head is feeling light.

And he keeps pounding into me. He keeps thrusting. Into me.

Inside. So deep. And I…

I… can’t think.

Anything else but how I want it.

“Inside…” I tell him through my slipping senses. “Fill me up…”

Another growl leaves him, and his pace picks up a notch. A notch… I didn’t… think was… possible, and I-

I swallow… and my eyes… roll back as I try to gasp for air. My walls still grasp onto him, trying to squeeze every drop and he-

He pushes up. Right against my cervix and I-,

I come undone. Right on top of him.

I slump forward, trying to get a hold of my breath. And he catches me in his strong arms. He holds me close.

His chest heaves, and I feel him still pulsating inside of me, trying to pump a few more drops in.

He wraps his left arm around me, and his right… moves to stroke my hair.

“Now that was… one hell of a ride…” he whispers with a low, sultry voice right next to my ear.

I giggle with his words, as my senses come back to me. And I start craving for seconds. Even if I should not have too much of a good thing… or so I’ve been told. But then again… if he’s not just ‘good’, what if he’s perfect? Can one never have too much of a perfect thing?

“Glad you liked it,” I purr and push myself apart just enough to look at him in the eye. “Care for another round?”

There’s a smile on his lips, and a chuckle leaves him. “Oh my,” he utters.

“Maybe this time we can make it to the bedroom…”

“Perhaps…”

“Mhm…” I hum while getting up, and starting to make my way towards the bedroom door. My hands find the top of my skirt, the zipper, and I let the skirt fall onto the floor as I turn back to look at him. “Coming?”

“I just did,” he smirks, getting up and letting his pants hit the floor. And that’s when I see it, in full length, erected, pulsating… as if it’s doing a little happy dance for me.

“Well, so did I,” I smirk back, and turn my head back towards my bedroom, taking slow steps as I make my way there.

I can hear the ruffling of clothes; a shirt being tossed onto the floor…

I barely make it through the door, into the room, as his arms wrap around me. His face is next to mine… hot breath gliding over my skin as his hands roam around my body.

“Exquisite…” he whispers as his right hand begins the trail the top seam of my panties.

And I smile, the corners of my lips are tugged as up as they can be.

“What if we take these off for round two...?”

“Hmm… Sounds like a plan,” I giggle as he pushes the garment down, onto the floor.

I push my hips back with a grinding motion, rubbing his member as I do so.

He takes a step forward, pushing me closer to the bed, which I take. Then another step, and another and another, until we’re standing right by it.

His fingers trace my jaw, guiding me to look at him; and as I do, he lowers his head down to place another kiss onto my lips. And the taste… it’s like a caressing, adoring… sweet… soft embrace right over my tongue. But somehow the sensation extends right into my very soul.

Which doesn’t make me want him any less. If anything, it makes me want him more. So, I bend forward, and look at him over my shoulder. “Fill me up, to the brim…” I purr, and he flashes me that smirk of his again. That damned, devilishly… gorgeous smirk.

He runs the tips of his fingers up my spine, light as a feather. “Whatever the lady desires,” he whispers with a low growl, as if he’s savouring the moment, the idea, the sight in front of him.

His cock slides between my legs, coating itself with my wetness. Then he places the tip right at my entrance, as if teasing me… taunting me… His hands find their way to my hips just as th-

He pushes in.

All. The. Way. In~

My back arches again and I draw in breath with a gasp. Because he’s hitting a spot I didn’t know existed.

“Is it good?” He asks, pulling away, and slamming back in, and I moan in reply.

I can only moan, as no coherent thoughts run through me.

“I take it as a yes…” he purrs, rocking into me.

His hips pump into me, as if preparing. It’s as if he’s warming up.

By the gods how is he not tired after the first round. It’s like he’s only warmed up by it. It’s as if he… the King of Fire, has only been lit on fire. And through him I’m about to be branded, marked, kissed by the very same flame as he is.

He slams against me, and our skins make a slapping sound with the impact. And he does it again. And again, again, again, againagainagain-

I can feel his balls slamming against my clit with the rocking motion. As if they, too, are just teasing me, while my walls clench, pleasure keeps building up and I can’t-

He slams one more time.

And I see stars again.

My legs tremble, and strength seems to leave my body as pleasure washes over me. But there are again those strong, muscular arms to scoop me up, and onto the bed.

My body trembles and my chest heaves. And by the sound of it, he’s out of breath too. But still he manages to pull us both onto the bed, over the soft, silken covers and hold me close.

His fingers draw circles onto my skin, as if to assure me that he’s still there. His breathing rings in my ear, in the best possible way, so tender and adoring.

I didn’t know someone who… looks so rough, and strong, could be so very gentle.

“Are you alright?” He asks with a murmur, as his fingers still draw circles onto my skin.

“Better than alright,” I tell him with a smile.

I can feel his smile again, right on my skin.

“I’m glad,” he replies.

And I think… I think I know what that means. I think it means that neither of us needs to be alone anymore, ever. I think it’s… that this is the start of something bigger, something grand and beautiful. That this is a new start for us both, together.

#fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #black clover fanfiction #smut #lemon #black clover smut #the knight in a leather armour #and now Imma take a cold bath

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closedcoffins · 1 year

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most batshit fact about each baccano! muse i have

claire stanfield: aside from the fact that he has an actual god complex, once bent a solid steel door in half just to prove a point

maria barcelito: parental issues stemming from the fact that she DID NOT get to kill her grandfather like she wanted to

graham specter: once broke every single one of his own joints just to prove a point

jacuzzi splot: despite the fact that he will start crying if you look at him wrong he has straight up murdered people

nice holystone: has like 300 bombs THAT WE KNOW OF stashed in the genoard manor ( she does not own the manor she is squatting there FOR FREE ). also stores one special bomb in her empty eye socket.

huey laforet: injected his youngest daughter with the waterborne hivemind virus he created just to see what would happen

melvi dormentaire: gets his shit kicked in 3 separate times in 1935 and still walks around acting like he owns the place

luchino b. campanella: hes the head of a violent worldwide organization in control of many business and inherited billions of secret dollars but he really just wants to be a stage magician and vomits at the sight of blood

luck gandor: once got his hand shot off and stabbed a man with the broken bone sticking out of the hand

sham: his existence is batshit

ronny schiatto: will just stop in the middle of the road to use his complex homunculus omniscience and somehow no one has noticed

christopher shaldred: knife gun knife gun slaughters for fun

isaac dian: was locked up in solitary confinement in ALCATRAZ for like 4 days straight and didnt actually care even a little bit like he was perfectly chill afterwards he actually found it fun

ladd russo: owns a double decker bus (why)

maiza avaro: solution to encountering a cave-in was not “aw man let’s go another way” it was “hold on everybody i am going to obliteratw this car by driving it OVER THE ROCKS. lets be on our way”

jules upham: had a fermet encounter and lived (very rare)

chane laforet: every time shes overwhelmed with feelings she takes out a knife

gabe & juli barsotti: they each have a tricked up motorcycle which they have used to do complex assassinations on men in cars

pamela mccall: the most normal baccano character

lana sutton: faints at every scary thing (her career path of choice is ‘famous robber’)

sonja bake: actually thinks guns are god. like worships guns. like a lot.

rachel jones: sharpened a nail specifically for the purpose of cutting through ropes in case of a kidnapping (it happens a lot just part of the business idk)

molsa martillo: baccano 2002 just casually drops about thirty thousand dollars to send firo away on a honeymoon with ennis and czes

victor talbot: talks so much hes passed out from lack of air then woken up and continued to talk

kate gandor: married a mob boss because he appreciated her piano playing

laz smith: owns like 30 guns (gunmeister) and has not killed a single person even though hes definitely fired the guns. takes on an apprentice (ice pick thompson) who he buys the name ice pick thompson from because ice pick thompson (like a 13 year old boy) has killed more people than him. professional hitman btw.

roy maddock: i cant say anything mean about him hes been through enough

tick jefferson: let his brother tock believe he killed his pet rat for like 15 years for literally no reason

tock “tim” jefferson: he and his brother are named tick and tock and you would think this would make sense because their father is a clock salesman but actually the clock salesman is their stepfather so there is literally no reason for them to be named that

elmer c. albatross: you honestly had to be there.

dallas genoard: got put in a barrel at the bottom of the hudson river and as soon as he got out he began plotting a murder without knowing all of his murder victims are now immortal. he literally did not even hesitate to start planning those murders.

#muse: collective

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scribe-of-stories · 1 year

Text

Samuel Smith 3 / Word Search Tag Game

It occurred to me about 3/5 of the way through writing this that the point of the game was to 'Word Search' a WIP with the prompt rather than to write something new with the prompts. Anyways, as per the theme of how I do things I have accidentally ignored the rules. Here's a short story about my character Samuel.

Kinda works out, my WIP doesn't have enough length to play correctly anyways.

@vicstmichael

-Light- Waking up to the goddamn sun shining bright and down on you was no way to start a hangover. Or, at least, I assumed it was a hangover. My head was pounding, body aching, and I was laying face up in the middle of some abandoned parking lot.

Okay maybe that last part implied something worse was going on. I took stock of myself and found some more concerning things. My jacket was in shreds and there were claw wounds on my body. Thankfully those were already healing up, being only partially human helped on that front. The fact that I was also incapable of remembering what caused all this even as I focused was beginning to cause more worry.

I stood, looked around. I was an investigator after all, surely I could solve something if I was at the scene of the crime. Assuming I was at the scene of the crime. What blood I had bled had pooled beneath me and there was no evidence of more of mine elsewhere. My car wasn’t here, and in fact the only vehicle I could find was a smashed up motorcycle some distance away. No bullet holes, so I either didn’t want to shoot or simply hadn’t the chance; but there were gouges in the concrete that matched the claw wound I had on my shoulder.

Something Wyrd had happened. I was alive, and I do not know why. Hell, currently there seemed to be a shit ton that I was missing out on. My phone was broken and I had no clear ride around; thankfully I knew this city and there was a path home, I just had to walk it. The sun was ever present, as oppressive as a foreign emperor; things like me were not meant to spend this long in the Light.

-Wish- “Sam Where The Fuck Have You Been?” were the first words I heard upon entering my office. I swear the space in here used to be larger, but I guess the second desk, magic circle corner, and lead lined safe took up most of it. Oh, and of course there was Ashley; she took up plenty of space.

Empathy kicked down the door of whatever building was currently representing her emotions and demanded that her anger should be mixed with care. The searing rage on her face dimmed and was given a touch of worry. Gave me time to shut the door behind myself and get over to my desk.

“Sam, what happened to you? You’ve been gone for Two Days.” Less anger now, but not gone.

“That’s a damn good question,” I searched my desk for notes, “Don’t remember a thing.”

I caught her up on what I did remember. The lot, the wounds, missing car, missing memory. Apparently the whole in my memory was much bigger than I thought. Two whole days gone from my life, and not a hint of what I was doing was anywhere on my desk; just blank papers and, oddly enough, a blank calling card.

“Ashley, have we been working a case?”

“I do not believe so, no?” she paused, uncertainty creeping across her face “finished that missing Tulpa job earlier this week, I think we’re between jobs?”

“No no, can’t be right,” I kicked a trash bin full of coffee cups, “We only get this stuff when we’ve been out staking a place,” and we always gave the office a clean when a case closed.

It was beginning to occur to us both that neither of us truly remembered the last two days. Ashley had holes in her memories, I had entire blank spaces. That’s when she finally brought attention to my least favorite failsafe.

“Sam, check your jacket pocket,” I did so, “No no, the other one.”

I drew a single notecard out of the pocket, semi-crumpled and used. It held a symbol on it that we had both decided on: a third eye on a head with a blindfold wrapped around it. I was supposed to keep this in my jacket when dealing with one of the worst kind of Wyrd . An Anti-Memetic Entity. We were on a case, one that neither of us remember.

I really wish I had a normal job.

-History- Ashley set up the salt circle, and I got into our safe. There were 100 and 1 precautions to take when working against something like this. It hides by erasing itself from memories, books, pictures, and hell even sometimes from your active senses. The worst of them had a type of global effect; nothing in the world was safe from those. At least, unless you had precautions.

The safe had lead, insolating it from the outside world; and now I had a salt circle doing the same for me. Even if it was in this room it couldn’t fuck with my head till the circle was gone. It was the only way we knew how to keep track of these things: store and view the information while insolated.

I sat down at my table and began to pour over our book of monsters. It took a bit, but I found what I was looking for: a note to myself.

“1409 Cheerwood Lane, client has hired Ashley and I to investigate a disappearance on the street. Ashley thinks it’s a memory eater, which is why we’re going ahead and writing this down. When we first went to look most of the houses were empty, a nearly abandoned neighborhood in the middle of lively suburbia. If I’m reading this note, consider this paper a book-mark; I’m leaving it on the page of what I think it is if you’ve forgotten.”

“It’s a playheist, or at least a Wyrdling of one,” Ashley nodded and repeated it back to me, a test to see if it was currently erasing itself. It either wasn’t or couldn’t. “Takes stories and eats them, or at least the original ones did. Guess we thought this was some kind of offshoot that started eating families instead?”

Ashley tapped a finger on her desk, “I mean, the life of a family has a certain narrative structure to it. A home as the stage, parents and children as the actors. If it has emptied out a whole street, it must be big by now.”

I looked down to the healed wound on my shoulder. Yeah, big. These things were supposed to be a type of fae. A small pixie that steals person poems and the like. It’s why I thought this one was a Wyrdling. Only part fae, it was born human. That would give it the kind of hunger and lust for power that is historically human, and the power to take in an abhorrent way.

“I hate Wyrdlings.”

“Sam, we are Wyrdlings.”

“Don’t remind me, where’s a binding book?”

-Weather- It always rained on days like these. The sun left, clouds rolled in, and now the droplets played a soothing melody of anarchic noise. Street lights lit the road, but every single house was dark. To be honest, I did not entirely remember why I was there. A compulsion led me to look down at my hand and there were a few simple words for me: Bait, 1409 Cheerwood Ln.

Adrenaline hit me like a brick through a window. I could hear it approaching, soft footsteps on wet grass. In a trained motion I spun around and produced my pistol, though now that I had a good look at this thing I doubt it’d do me any good. Still squeezed off a few shots for, you know, the comfort of it.

The thing was larger than me hunched over, its arms long and thick. Claws curled up into fists so that it could walk with its hands. Whole thing looked like a bunny with no hair and no mouth. The worst part about looking at it was the Deju Vu I was constantly getting. I had seen it before, yet I was just seeing it for the first time now. The cycle repeated every moment.

Sadly I was right about the bullets, they blasted through its skin but no blood leaked out. Instead it promptly roared. I was already beginning to forget how it sounded. Goddamn thing was giving me a headache.

Now, despite my appearance as a slightly portly fellow there was a damn good reason I was bait while Ashley was the trap. I couldn’t run nearly as fast as most, but there were paths I knew how to take that others simply couldn’t see. Given time, I could even set up these paths. Though I didn’t remember setting anything up, there were plenty around. Thanks past me.

It reached out to get me with one of its claws, but a small hop backwards produced the distance of a leap. I had no intention of actually fighting this thing, rather I had a destination to bring it. So began a dance of this thing running me down and myself being able to stay just a few feet ahead.

We eventually made it to 1409. It had managed to land one good rake down my back, and my legs were burning; but Ashley stepped in just as I was ready to keel over. This thing may have been bullet resistant, hell there were probably very few ways to actually hurt it, but in the world I lived in there were fates worse than death.

How does one kill an idea? Some would say you can’t, others say you come up with a better idea. Ashley and I had taken to sealing them in books. The Faeling had already stepped too far into our trap, and there was no getting out for it. A Chant, a salt circle, a chained and bound book. Another cursed tome to add to the pile.

I think I remember Ashley asking if I was okay, I responded with “gods I love this weather.”

-Disappointing- Ashley sent me home early that day. There was still cleaning and organizing to do, but she said I looked like hell; and that I needed to go store our new haunted tome anyways. I didn’t fight her on it, the path from our office to my home was a short one and I was glad to take it.

I was through the door before I noticed It. The room was dark to that point of comedy and I let out a long sigh before closing the door. There in the corner of my living room sat, assuming it could sit, my investor. An Umbral Entity that fashioned itself with a Mask and Umbrella.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

I considered telling them where they could shove my victory, but despite my exhaustion I managed to control myself. The first time they dragged me into this darkness I was effectively blind; nowadays I was more than capable of seeing through it. Dropped my book laden satchel on a table and proceeded to the kitchen to make a drink.

“People died.”

“That happens a lot around you. I do not think it is your fault.”

“Dealt with a Playheist, so my memory is a bit foggy. Don’t tell me that you were my client on this one.”

“No, your original client is an unfindable corpse lost to all senses.”

A took a long drink of a screwdriver. Glad to hear I wasn’t being played by my benefactor again, but the truth wasn’t exactly easy to hear about. A part of me was relieved that we were paid upfront for this one; another felt guilty that it was even on my mind.

“So why are you here?”

“Can a Patron not celebrate the victories of their Servant?"

“You haven’t before, and you’re not the type.”

I swear I could see a smile on its mouthless face, and I definitely heard a laugh. My eyes narrowed at it as I became more intoxicated. Historically it had only visited me thrice before: our first meeting, and two jobs it had me do. Interactions tended to be purely business.

“Nonetheless, I am here to congratulate you; and make an offer,” it motioned with an unseen appendage at my satchel. “Your new book, and what is inside it,” a bag of its own appeared, unmarked and made of a pale leather, “For my Satchel, and the Mask making kit inside.”

Again I fought my immediate urge to tell It to fuck off, but temptation snuck in. As a Wyrlding made by this very Entity I knew what making Masks would mean. Another avenue of power, a way to hide myself and take on new forms. An advantage, a way to protect myself, and another step closer to hell.

I swapped my drink for the book and crossed the room with it. Already I was considering my actions a mistake, but still I marched on. “I accept this deal, a fair trade.”

It removed the book from my hands, replacing it with its gift. Despite the weight of power inside, it was light. The leather strap clung to me in a way that felt right, the tools hidden away desired to be used.

“A fair trade indeed.”

My Patron vanished with those words, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my tools. The cost of use would be my very humanity, but I was becoming more and more aware that humans don’t last long in the world I live in. I turned and looked into a mirror, I saw disappointment.

-End-

Anyways, those I tag feel free to either play as intended or just write something based on the words; either way @ me with whatever you post!

I'll tag @kiraofthewind @patrickcharlton-oshea-author @moondust-bard and @p-h-lee

Your words are: Puzzle, Stone, Cold, Twilight, and Relief.

#tag game #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr games #word search tag game #Lexical Earth #Samuel Smith #Apparently I don't know how to edit tumblr posts well

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