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qveerthe0ry · 1 month

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Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect.

He’s your dream man.

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place.

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees.

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally.

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit.

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own.

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it.

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too.

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight.

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things.

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him.

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt.

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing.

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow.

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore.

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training.

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager.

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated.

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it.

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed.

“What do you want?”

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in.

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.”

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine.

“You’re lying.”

You sigh and close your eyes.

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.”

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty.

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers.

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.”

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment.

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?”

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction.

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?”

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little.

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs.

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation.

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not.

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him.

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his.

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?”

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead.

“Everyone?”

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you.

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up.

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at.

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you?

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.”

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze.

“Really?”

You scoff.

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth.

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine.

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment.

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back.

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone.

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted.

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again.

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs.

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.”

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth.

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you.

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction.

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long.

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs.

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt.

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking.

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved.

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice.

“I think about you, too. All the time.”

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest.

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?”

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter.

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod.

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience.

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt.

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?”

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss.

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head.

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you.

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before.

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers.

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch.

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck.

“It’s just you.”

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief.

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans.

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess.

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips.

“That’s all for me?”

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again.

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip.

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you.

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes.

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs.

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face.

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control.

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him.

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest.

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels.

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.”

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest.

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure.

Oh, he’s fucking good at this.

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else.

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding.

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers.

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face.

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side.

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles.

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself.

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together.

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing.

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids.

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours.

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder.

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?”

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs.

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction.

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants.

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.”

You huff.

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it.

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours.

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe.

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs.

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out.

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation.

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again.

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you.

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold.

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs.

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever.

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.”

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust.

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there.

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake.

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.”

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping.

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue.

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him.

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him.

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach.

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers.

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that.

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is.

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him.

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat.

“So… How’d it compare?”

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question.

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them.

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?”

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up.

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are.

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs.

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs.

“Better,” you whisper.

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back.

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver.

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips.

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants.

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension.

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little.

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard.

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up.

“Will you let me suck it?”

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods.

“Please.”

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction.

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants.

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough.

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go.

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you.

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel.

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock.

His little cock.

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess.

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing.

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this.

You’ll make him look, one way or another.

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention.

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head.

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth.

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him.

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to.

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more.

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool.

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere.

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock.

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself.

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds.

He says your name.

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls.

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked.

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face.

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face.

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.”

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question.

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face.

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe.

“Yeah? You still want it?”

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.”

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away.

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?”

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later.

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body.

He’s so hot.

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation.

“Please,” you whisper.

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed.

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit.

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling.

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time.

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense.

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you.

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him.

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles.

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm.

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out.

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh.

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up.

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist.

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you.

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them.

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?”

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit.

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight.

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy.

There’s screaming.

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts.

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene.

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks.

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps.

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again.

“Huh?”

God, how are you ever going to move again?

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words?

“What are you talking about?”

He clears his throat.

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly.

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright.

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out.

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver.

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees.

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you.

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body.

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body.

“Hi,” he whispers.

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high.

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part.

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle.

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach.

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do.

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest.

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth.

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

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sugurusbabygirl · 4 months

Note

can you do a choso smut where he’s the sluttiest virgin in the world. like so slutty that he jerks off to the reader constantly and when he finally fucks her he gets all whiny and needy and overstimulated

(luv you!)

I may have gotten a little carried away….

this has been on my mind for DAYS

(luv you too babes <3 )

He shouldn’t feel so guilty about it. You guys have been together for a couple weeks, so it’s fine, right? He wants to go at your pace, it was his idea. He didn’t want to rush you—but he just couldn’t help it.

You were so adorable laying all over him while you both watch a movie. Smiling and laughing away, all you did was innocently set your hand on his thigh to give him a loving squeeze. He hated how hard it made him. He couldn’t focus on the movie, excusing himself to the bathroom. He was quick—he learned to be so you wouldn’t get suspicious. Thinking about you sliding your hand up the palm him through his pants. How good it would feel to pull you into his lap and fuck you dumb.

You left a pair of underwear in his laundry once, by accident. A thin, stringy little purple thong. They were clean, so it wasn’t weird, right? He wasn’t some depraved pervert.

Oh, but he was.

Whimpering your name as he pumps his aching cock into the fabric. Wishing so badly that he could grind up against you, splitting your pussy lips over him. He imagined what it would be like to make you beg for him to finally slide in and hear his name slip in your angelic voice.

Everything you did made him hard. Bending over to tie your shoes. Reaching up into the cabinet, when your shirt rides up just a little bit. Any dress that shows even an inch of cleavage. Your voice, oh dear lord. Jacking off to an innocent voicemail you left him is part of his nightly routine.

So, imagine his excitement when you’re over one night. You’re both tangled on his bed, making out, when you pause and bring one of his hands down to the hem of your shirt.

“Take it off.” You whisper in his ear with a smile.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He restrains himself, as much as he wants to rip it off of you, gently pulling the fabric up over your head. He leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, laying you against the covers. Looking up at you through his lashes, he continues to kiss his way across your chest, pausing to drink you in.

Your eyes haven’t left his, grinning with anticipation. God, you looked perfect. Lips red and puffy, hair a haloed mess on the pillow. He didn’t dare look away. Not even when he moved to latch his lips around your nipple. You sucked in a quick breath, sighing like an angel as he flicked his tongue over the hardened bud.

He was hard. Straining against his sweatpants, aching for any ounce of friction. But he had to focus. They were going at your pace, this was about you.

He gripped your other breast in his hand, rolling the nipple between his fingers, drawing a low whine from you. Shit, you were going to kill him.

“Choso?” Your sweet voice brings him back down to earth. He continues to look at you, reveling in your flushed face.

“Hm?” He answers, granting your nipple a particularly harsh suck, making your back arch ever so slightly.

“Want more….”

Your words went straight to his cock, twitching with need. He finally detached his lips from you, only to begin a descent down your sternum. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants, he slowly pulls them down your legs, pressing more gentle kisses across your stomach and hips.

He was imagining what kind of underwear you’d be wearing. Maybe something purple, like the ones he still had tucked away in his dresser. Maybe another thong….oh god he hoped you had more of those.

But when he looked at you, he was met with nothing. He groaned, rutting his hips into the mattress, just enough where he thought you wouldn’t notice. He pressed a slew of hungry kisses to the inside of your thigh, gripping the other tightly in his thick hand.

“You plan on this, baby?” He asks you, looking up with a shit-eating grin.

You’re blushing and you can tell he’s thrilled with your little surprise. “Maybe a little.”

He smiles like an asshole, glossing his middle finger up your slit, barely brushing your clit. You gasp at the unexpected feeling, letting your head rest further into the pillow. He looks up at you, breasts heaving excitedly as you smile. Parting your lips enough to truly admire you, he can’t help but give a few kitten licks to your bundle of nerves.

“So beautiful.” He hums, soaking in your soft moans when he pulls away. Meeting your eyes again, he sinks his pointer finger into his mouth, grinning at your flustered laugh. Before you can admire how hot he is in this moment, he’s sliding the dampened digit into you, pumping slowly at first.

He feels his cock twitch again. “Already so wet….” He groans, studying your reactions intensely.

“Another.” You wine, making him push his hips into the mattress again. Fuck, he can’t take much more of this.

Without a second thought, he obliges, adding his middle finger. Your breath catches at the feeling of the slight stretch, gripping the blanket on both sides of you. He watches you in awe. The way your chest rises and falls with each rapid breath. How your eyes screw shut when he starts pumping his fingers faster, drawing sweeter sounds from you. Even sweeter when he brings his mouth down to suck on your clit. He can't help but rut his hips when you arch against his tongue.

"Baby, baby, baby," You chant, pulling at his loose hair to get him to look at you. "Want more."

Your tone shift makes his heart flutter. No way this was actually happening. "You mean..."

You nod, and that's all the go-ahead Choso needs. His clothes join yours on the floor and he wastes no time crawling over you, his hair gathering around his face.

"You're s-sure?" His whole body shivered as his painfully hard cock brushes against your slick lips. His composure was starting to crack. He was on the edge of paradise.

"Yes, I'm sure." You say softly, pulling him into a chaste kiss. "Please."

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your jaw as he lines himself up. He's throbbing, having dreamed and fantasized about this for so long. He tries to keep his cool, wanting this to be perfect for you. Then he pushes in, slowly, all his self-control comes crashing down when he feels you swallowing the tip in.

"F-fuck." He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. It's like his body has a mind of its own. He pushes further in, halfway, pulling a whispered version of your name from him.

Finally, finally, he fills you completely. And he whines. He absolutely crumbles against you. He starts rocking in and out of you, dragging his cock against your tight walls.

"Ah...ah...fuck...oh my g-" A series of whimpered cries come tumbling out of Choso's mouth. He can't believe how good it feels. How perfect it feels. His thrusts start to gain speed when your fingers tangle in his hair.

"Feels so good, so good, baby." He whispers into the crook of your neck. Wave after wave of ecstasy curls and crests through his body. You pull on his hair, clenching around him. His hips stutter, another groan rumbling through his chest.

"So good." You agree, arching your back.

His chest pressed against yours, he slides his hands down to your hips, keeping his face buried in your shoulder. "Y/n, please..." He begs, loosing himself in the feeling of you. "I need-shit-feels too good."

You smile to yourself, moaning softly as you watch him lose control of himself. "Use me, baby."

Something in him snaps. He rolls his hips into yours faster.....faster.....deeper. Every thrust brings a high-pitched whine to your ears. He grips your hips tighter, needing to feel you. It's like you can read his mind, dragging your nails up his back. He cries out, a pitiful, needy moan. The sound of skin on skin bounces off the walls, mingling deliciously with your wetness and his whimpers.

"Shit," His voice quivers, fucking into you at brutal pace. "I can't-ah!"

You groan, egging him on, scratching down his back again. "Wanna cum, baby?"

He nods shamelessly into your neck. "Yes! Yes....fuck." His thrusts grown sloppy, holding a vice grip on your waist. "Need to, please, please." It's like he's losing his handle on reality. You feel so good around him, pulling his hair, marking up his back.

"Oh, fuck-" He whimpers, "y/n, y/n, I-"

"Choso..." You groan, and that's all it takes. He pulls out of you and that's when you finally get to see him: sweaty, beet red, breathless, toned chest heaving.

All he can think to do is grunt and groan as he lines up at your slit, pumping himself until thick white lines of cum shoot out. He lets out a long, high pitched whine as he coats your lips and slit with his cum until he's shaking.

You smile up at him, never seeing him look more attractive. You push yourself up onto your elbows before being pushed right back down. Choso, with a hand pressed lightly against your throat, kisses you with a renewed fire.

"Not done yet." He mumbles against your lips. "S'your turn, baby."

masterlist <3

#choso kamo smut #jjk smut #jujitsu kaisen smut #kamo choso smut #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x y/n

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gold-dustwomxn · 5 months

Text

mystified

part 4

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

cw: violence, alcohol consumption, smoking weed, smut mdni!!!!

oral (e receiving), strap (r receiving)

angst fluff and smut

a loud chiming paired with vibrations has you jumping up, hand pressed flat against your racing heart. your rude alarm blares into your ear as you groan into your pillow. shit never fails to scare you half to death time every single time. as you lay in your bed and wipe away the sleep from your eyes, your mind floods with ellie ellie ellie. you’ve been with her practically everyday and you can’t seem to get enough of her. she’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep.

ellie🌿🗡️: Morning babe. I hope you have a good day. Try to pay attention in class instead of texting me. I’ll see you later🖤

me: good morninggg💗 i’ll try my best for u 🫡 try not to get injured at work again

you giggle and feel those butterflies in your stomach again. it’s pathetic how giddy she makes you feel from a simple text.

dina🤍: are u and ellie coming to the party tonight? istg if u say no

me: uggh idk. u know I hate those college parties

dina🤍: cmonnn u guys never come out. youve both been holed up in a lesbian fuck fest for like 2 weeks straight

me: LMAO stfu. fine I’ll ask ellie if she wants to go

ellie grudgingly agrees to go to said party for your sake, and because she’s been neglecting her friendship with jesse just a little bit— too preoccupied with wanting to spend as much time as possible with you, and you her.

she decides she’ll stay sober for the night so she can drive and keep an eye on you. as you walk into the party hand in hand, you’re flooded with an overwhelming stench of alcohol and weed, strobing lights and music so loud that you feel the bass thumping in your chest. it’s too fucking crowded and hot. you need a drink to loosen up.

“well, well, well, would you look at who the cat dragged in.” jesse smirks at the two of you, receiving a double eye roll from both you and ellie. “who the fuck speaks like that anymore jesse?” ellie says with a laugh. “just good to see you alive in the flesh and all.” dina giggles and attacks you with a warm hug.

she steals your attention away from ellie, fiddling with your shirt with a goofy smirk. you laugh and narrow your eyes, “what is it?” dina leans in closer to whisper, “so, what’s the deal with you two.. are you official yet?”

you look at ellie to make sure she isn’t watching and whisper, “no, we haven’t.. labeled anything? I don’t know.. I mean, I do wanna make it official, but I don’t wanna scare her away, you know? kinda just letting it play out and see what happens.”

she looks at you, unamused. “stop being a pussy, you guys have been in love with each other for years. It’s not like she’s some random girl that you just met.” you roll your eyes, “relaxxx, it’ll happen when it happens.” dina laughs and shakes her head, “whatever you say. I need another drink.”

as she walks over to mix a gross concoction of god knows what, your eyes drift back to ellie who is preoccupied, deep in conversation with jesse. your eyes wander over every inch of her, biting your lip. her muscles are pulled taut against her flannel, jeans tight around her thighs, intoxicating green eyes glowing from the flashing lights in the room. one drink has you so fucking horny, it’s ridiculous.

ellie catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, “you good, babe?” she chuckles. you look away, trying to save face. “yup, I’m feeling good. can you come with me to the bathroom?” she nods with no hesitation, innocently thinking that you just want her to stick close by.

as soon as the door closes, you pull her tightly against you by the loopholes of her jeans and slam your lips into hers. she freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly catches up, slipping her tongue into your mouth with a groan and sliding her hands down to squeeze your ass.

she then tugs at your hair, pulling your head back, breathless and takes a look at your glossy eyes, and down at your swollen lips. “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” she rasps out, smirking. you lean in, placing wet, needy kisses on her neck, pawing and squeezing at her biceps, “I wanna go down on you so bad right now.” you practically whine in her ear.

she chuckles, “right now? in here?” she looks around the bathroom, scrunching up her face. “we’ve been here for like a half hour, babe.”

you cup her through her jeans, watching her breath get heavy, “c’mon, don’t you wanna feel my mouth on you?” you pout.

she removes your hand and pulls you tight against her, brushing your hair to the side, placing a kiss on your neck. you whimper as she licks a slow stripe up to the sweet spot behind you ear, giving it a small suck.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me and wait until later.” she whispers into the shell of your ear, making you shudder. you mentally curse her for having more self control than you, while ellie mentally curses herself because she’s horny as fuck now, but loves teasing you. “ugh, fine, ellie.” she chuckles and pats your cheek, leaning in to give you one more lingering kiss.

dina being dina convinces you to take multiple shots of tequila with her while ellie stands with jesse watching the both of you dance, laughing in amusement at the two of you.

as the night goes on, you start to stumble. ellie grabs onto you, “hey, baby, I think it’s time you lay off the drinks now, huh?” she chuckles at you. you wrap your arms around her neck and nod, “mhmm, I’m getting tired. can we leave soon?” you slur out. she nods, wrapping her arms around your waist, “yeah, we can go now.”

after you say your goodbyes to dina and jesse, you walk behind ellie, trying to make your way through the sea of bodies to head out.

all of a sudden, you feel a hand squeeze your ass and you gasp, stumbling into ellie. you turn around and see a guy grinning, reeking of booze. “don’t fucking touch me!”

ellie turns around and takes in the scene, her face morphing into one of rage. she places you behind her and shoves him hard against his chest. “back the fuck up,” she grits out.

he laughs mockingly. “oh, what, is this your bitch?” time seems to stop for a moment, a chill traveling down your spine as you watch her face drop, making you suddenly feel stone cold sober.

ellie punches him square in the face, making him stumble back. people begin to move out the way, circling them, whooping and hollering as if it’s a fucking show.

he lunges at her, trying to hit back. she catches his wrist and twists his arm, as she elbows him in the face, making him fall down and grab his now seemingly broken nose.

your jaw drops as you watch ellie climb on top of him, knee to his chest as she throws punch after punch. “ellie! stop!” she doesn’t hear you, doesn’t even seem to be present in her own body.

jesse hears the commotion and runs into the room. he grabs ellie, trying to pull her off of him “ellie, stop! you got him! you’re gonna get arrested if you don’t stop!”

ellie stands up, chest heaving as she flexes and shakes out her aching hand, knuckles bloody. she looks at you, her gaze softening with guilt as she takes in your upset demeanor.

you look around at all of the people staring, and grab ellie’s arm. “c’mon, we’re leaving. now.” she looks at you as you swiftly walk ahead of her to her car. “I’m sorry-“

you cut her off, “ellie, what the fuck?! you can’t just go around beating the shit out of people like that.”

she huffs and throws her arms up in the air defensively, looking as if she was about to speak, but stops herself.

“you looked like you were gonna kill him.”

she scoffs “I wasn’t gonna kill him.” you turn to look at her, “well, if jesse hadn’t been able to stop you, who knows what would’ve happened.”

she looks down at her tattoo and rubs the skin, “guys like him need to learn that they can’t get away with shit like that! and... and seeing him look so fucking proud of himself… looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat.”

you observe her digging her nails into her tattoo and realize where her mind is drifting off to. you stop walking and grab her face, speaking softly. “look at me. I’m safe and you’re safe. I understand that you wanna protect me, but you can’t lose it like that, okay? you need to learn to walk away unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

she looks between your eyes and nods, grabbing gently onto one of your wrists. “okay. I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s over now. everything’s okay.” you nod at her slowly and lean in to peck her lips. “c’mon, let’s go back to your place so I can clean you up.”

“you don’t have to-“ you cut her off with a semi-serious glare and she nods.

on the drive home, she rubs your thigh softly and takes small glances at you. she chews on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about how you’re able to ground her. her chest tightens with shame— you shouldn’t have to deal with her issues.

ellie stands between your legs as you sit on top of the sink, cleaning her knuckles gently with deep concentration. she watches you and thinks about how she’s falling for you, hard. she’s never felt this way about someone before and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. her thoughts are interrupted as you finish and kiss the inside of her wrist. she gives you a soft smile when you look up at her and leans in to kiss you, “thanks, babe.”

ellie plucks away at her guitar as she smokes a joint while you lay there sipping on water and watch her in comfortable silence. unbeknownst to you, her mind races, picturing the look on your face after she basically bashed that guys face in.

she doesn’t think she deserves someone good and sweet like you. the idea of letting you go fucking crushes her, but it’s better to let you decide if you wanna end things now before the two of you get more serious, as if you’re both not in deep already.

she takes a hit of her joint and places her guitar to the side, laying a shaky palm on your thigh. “hey... I’m sorry about earlier.” you shake your head, “it’s okay, I promise. I’m not upset anymore.”

she looks down for a moment before looking back at you, “it’s just... you don’t deserve to have to deal with my bullshit. I understand if you don’t wanna… do this anymore.” she gestures between the two of you and fidgets nervously with her fingers.

you sit up quickly and grab her hand, stroking her knuckles. “is that what you want?” she looks at your teary eyes and shakes her head immediately. “no, no, it’s not what I want. but I want you to do what’s best for you.”

“ellie, I really like you. I’m not afraid of baggage, you don’t have to push me away.”

she looks at you, unconvinced. “I’m a fucking mess, ___. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes.”

“and you know what’s best for me?”

“no, I’m not saying that. I just-” she throws her hands up, trying to figure out how to convey what she’s feeling.

“you’re not some broken, cold hearted person, ellie. I can decide for myself what’s good for me. you’re good for me.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” she whispers, eyes tearing up.

you inch closer to her on your hands and knees and give her a soft, lingering kiss.

“then, don’t.” you whisper against her lips and pull back.

she looks back at you in silence for a few moments in a daze, completely enamored with you.

you give her a teary smile and let your words settle in for her, “plus, it’s kinda hot seeing you like that. you still haven’t taught me more self defense moves like you said you would, you know.” you laugh trying to make her feel better. she lets out a weak chuckle and shakes her head.

“no, but seriously,” you place your palm on her cheek to keep eye contact, making sure she takes in your sincerity, “I lo- like you.. a lot and I wanna be with you, okay? we all have our issues. you’ll have to stick around if you wanna see mine,” you smile. ellie’s ears perk up, wondering if she was just imagining that you almost said you love her. she chuckles and nods, “okay,” she whispers, “so does this mean you wanna be my girlfriend then?”

you look at her in mock offense, “is that how you’re gonna ask me?”

she laughs, “okay, okay.” she clears her throat and straightens out her back. “___, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

you can’t help but laugh at her attempt to be serious. “yeah, I’ll be your girl.”

she gives you a wide grin and cups your face, giving you a passionate kiss.

you both pull away breathless. “you know.. I think we should consummate this relationship.”

she laughs and raises an eyebrow, “oh yeah? and how’s that?”

“well.. for one, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to earlier.”

“mhmm, you are right about that. go ahead baby.”

as ellie lays on her back, you kiss along her stomach down her v-line to her inner thighs, each kiss making her muscles tense up.

“c’mon, enough teasing.” she huffs, breath heavy with glossy eyes.

you shake your head in defiance and she grabs onto your jaw. “be good.” she says sternly, but strokes your cheek gently with her thumb.

she watches you lick a stripe up her wet folds and her eyes roll back, letting out a shaky breath.

“s-stick your tongue out, baby.”

you flatten your tongue and she takes a fistful of your hair, slowly bucking her hips against your face. “jesus.. fuck. love your fucking mouth so much.”

looking up at her with doe eyes, you moan, and she grunts, “s-so perfect for me. making me feel so good, baby.”

you bob your head up and down with her thrusts, and suck hard on her clit, making her whimper unwillingly. “oh fuuuuck. good fucking girl, don’t stop.”

she grips your hair tighter and grinds faster against your face, head falling back into the pillows and swallowing hard. “gonna cum.. fuck!”

finally her body seizes up, her hole clenching around your tongue as her arousal seeps into your mouth. “holy fuck.” she breathes out shakily. “fuckin-“ she grunts, “swallow all of it.” she holds your head in place, rocking slowly as you happily lap up every inch of her cum. “yeah.. good girl.” you pull back and brush your fingers over her thighs with a love drunk smile.

she pants and looks down at you with furrowed brows, swiping her thumb across your glossy lips, spreading around her slick and your saliva before sticking her thumb into your mouth. you suck on it and she closes her eyes, sighing.

you climb on top of her, kissing her deeply, both of you moaning into the kiss. “wait,” she pulls back.

“what?” you whine at the loss of her lips against yours.

she chuckles and sits up, opening her nightstand drawer and pulls out a box. “how would you feel if I used this on you?”

you examine the unopened box and your eyes widen when you see what’s inside, making your thighs squeeze together. “yeah-yes.” you stutter.

she laughs and traps you with her legs to flip you on your back, “yes, what?”

you yelp and giggle, “you can use it on me.” she grins and leans in to kiss you.

after ellie coaxes multiple orgasms out of you with her mouth and fingers, she gets up to grab the strap, adjusting the harness around her. “okay, you sure you want it?”

you swallow hard in nervousness and excitement. “y-yeah I want it. just go slow.”

she leans down and gives you a soft kiss. “of course, baby.”

ellie lubes up the dildo and strokes the shaft before settling between your shaky legs, giving them small kisses. “you nervous?” you nod, “mhm, a little.”

she caresses your thighs and gives them gentle squeezes, “it’s okay, I’ll be gentle and if you want me to stop just tell me, okay?” you nod, “okay.”

as she slides the strap up and down your folds, you let out a whimper and spread your legs further apart. she has to bite down hard on her lip to hold back a moan.

“you ready?”

“yeah,” your breath gets heavier in anticipation.

she slowly inches her way in while rubbing small circles on your clit, eyes focused on your face. when your eyes start to tear up, she leans down and peppers soft kisses all over your face. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

as she bottoms out, you both moan in unison. “you okay?”

“y-yes, you can move.”

ellie starts out with a slow pace, rolling her hips into you, gradually going deeper and harder with each thrust. she feels her own arousal pooling as she watches your face twist in pleasure and the view of your cunt sucking her in.

“fuck, ellie, g-go faster please,” you moan out. ellie smirks at your words, "my pleasure, sweet girl."

she wraps your legs around her waist and starts to increase the pace and vigor of her thrusts, pounding into you hard and fast. you can feel every inch of her as she slides in and out of you, filling you up with such intensity that has you moaning uncontrollably. she groans “you look so fucking good like this,” leaning down to kiss you messily, panting into each other mouths.

she watches you with heavy lids, drunk off of the sounds of your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt. “feels good, pretty girl?”

“mmph. so good, ellie. so good.”

as she starts to increase her pace even more, you grip onto her shoulders tightly, pulling her chest to yours, sinking your nails into her skin.

“taking me s-so fucking well baby, knew you could do it.” she feels herself getting lost in her own pleasure as the base of the strap bumps against her clit just right.

your body starts to tremble against hers, with ellie having to work harder to thrust in and out of you, your moans turning into high-pitched whimpers, and she knows you’re close.

“el-ellie! fuck, I’m gonna-” she holds onto you tightly and watches you as you slip into ecstasy, and can’t help but moan herself. she thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking like this. and that view alone is enough to make her eyes roll back, triggering her own orgasm. her hips sputter as she slaps into you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

she lifts her head and lets out ragged breaths, her eyes glazed over, “you did so good for me, baby.” she kisses your forehead gently.

leaning on her elbows, she stares down at you, eyes mapping out every inch of your face, completely infatuated.

“I lo-“ she stops herself, it’s too early to say I love you. or is it? you’ve known each other for years, and she could’ve sworn you almost said it earlier. she decides against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

you run your hand through her hair and brush your nose against hers, “say it,” you whisper. she looks between your eyes and swallows thickly.

“I love you,” she whispers shakily.

you lift your head, slotting your lips against hers in a slow, passionate kiss.

“I love you, too.”

tysm for reading ily all 💗💗

taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels @cinnamonmilf

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #emmysfics #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader

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ziggyzolch · 2 months

Text

Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)

These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.

Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry

✮✮✮

“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.

You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.

“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.

“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”

“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”

“Yeah but-”

“Please tell me you have another song.”

You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”

Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.

-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-

You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.

✮✮✮

“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.

“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.

✮✮✮

Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”

“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.

Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’

Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?

“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.

You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”

She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.

You really need to sleep.

✮✮✮

It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.

Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.

"F-Faggot."

...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."

Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's whatever."

She stares at you for a second.

"Take out your phone."

"What? Why-"

She pulls your phone out of your hand.

"I'm putting in my number, idiot."

What?

"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."

Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.

You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.

✮✮✮

"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.

Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."

"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"

"Shut up."

You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!

"Blondie, you have taste?"

Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.

She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.

The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.

"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"

"Too bleak."

"It ends nicely though!"

"No! Pick something else."

"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.

She glares at you.

"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"

You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"

She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.

"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."

✮✮✮

An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.

She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.

✮✮✮

"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.

"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.

Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.

The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.

"Fuck."

✮✮✮

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons

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akitheasteroid · 13 days

Text

Splitting Realms - SMG4 Selfaware!Au

(Art By @k1ra0nloose, @chaoticlad, @tophatwearingidiot, @bear-boi-5, and me!) (this was an excuse to @ you all)

MAIN CREATOR OF THE AU: @k1ra0nloose (IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS YOU CAN ASK THEM)

EMPLOYEES: Me, @tophatwearingidiot, @chaoticlad

CHAPTER 1 -

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SMG4 sat in his room, thinking about crazy theories he had and what should’ve been impossible. It started almost a week ago during the zany adventure of the day. He couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling that there were eyes all around him, watching his every move. He started to look around everywhere wondering where the strange feeling was coming from. He would look around anxiously and start to shout out to whoever was there. After the conclusion of the adventure the feeling didn’t disappear. He fled to his room in a panic, trying to hide from whatever was watching him. He couldn’t manage to get a wink of sleep as he spent the whole night opening and closing windows and being afraid to abandon the castle. Day 2 wasn’t any different except for when he began to believe he was tapping on a screen that was in front of him, but he just wasn’t able to see it. He tried to explain briefly what was happening to his crew, but they all just suggested that he should get some sleep before he even really got to the point. 3 claimed that “he was just being insane” whilst Mario called him “coo-coo crazy.” No one would believe him.

The other few days were barely any different as he stayed strictly in his castle and stuck in his room, rambling, trying to figure out what was even going on. Then we get to today. SMG4 laid in his bed rambling to himself over and over about the same things. “They’re watching everything, they see all of it, they’re all there, waiting for the moment I leave-” He was interrupted by a knock on his door that sat him straight up. His first thought was that whoever was watching had finally decided to get to him directly. He ran to the nearest corner of his room paranoid of what could be hiding right behind the door.

A voice came from behind the door, “SMG4? Are you in there?” It sounded like Meggy. Another voice spoke, it sounded like Italian blabbering, it sounded like Mario. He felt at ease for just a second before his mind went on another train ride.

What if it’s not really them behind the door? What if whoever or whatever had been watching him was mimicking their voices to lure him outside of the castle? What if-

His thoughts were cut off again by a 3rd voice, “Yeah get your overly paranoid ass out here!” It was SMG3. Reluctantly, 4 got up and headed towards his room door. He held his hand over the doorknob hoping that his thoughts about what was behind it had all been something silly. He peeked open the door and- there were the 3 of them staring at him in concern, he had dark eyebags and his hair was a complete mess. “Hey guys!” he started. Meggy was the first to ask the question that was the whole reason they came over, “What have you been doing? We haven’t seen you out the castle in days!” SMG4 stared down at the floor trying to find the words to explain how he felt he was being watched and how he was tapping what in his head, had to be a screen. “So you see I- we are probably- there's something-” He took a deep breath, “I believe there’s something watching us all- everything we do is being watched.” The 3 of them stared at him confused. “SMG4 are you sure you’re ok?” 3 asked.

“Of course I am!” SMG4 immediately replied. They stared at him even more concerned, “Hey maybe it’s time you get some fresh air and touch some grass” Mario said as he pulled 4 from inside his room and began to attempt to drag him outside of the castle doors into the open showgrounds. Meggy and SMG3 were walking up to go help him when 4 snapped at them. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WE’RE ALL BEING WATCHED? WE CAN'T GO OUT THERE!” He broke from Mario’s grip and sprinted back into his room straight onto his bed. The 3 outside staring and left speechless by what just happened. SMG3 stomped over to the door and began to pound on the door while yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU ON? CAN’T YOU SEE WE’RE TRYING TO HELP YOU HERE?”.

SMG4 was quick to yell back through the door, “IM TRYING TO MAKE YOU ALL UNDERSTAND! THERE’S SOMETHING OUT FOR US!”

“WELL YOU’VE CLEARLY LOST IT!”

“AND YOU’RE CLEARLY TOO CAUGHT UP WITH YOURSELF TO UNDERSTAND!”

Silence.

SMG3 lifted his hand as if to go for another bang, but he lowered it slowly and turned around back to Mario and Meggy with a solemn look on his face. “Hey, SMG3, maybe we’ll just leave him alone for now?” SMG3 started to walk out of the castle with the other 2 following slowly behind.

SMG4 began to ramble on his bed, “What don’t they understand?” Can’t They see what's happening right now??” He looked around his room when suddenly a glow came from his monitor, it was entrancing as he walked closer to it. Closer and closer until he was just a few inches away from touching it. He stared into the glowing light that felt as though it was calling him to come closer, closer, and closer. He laid his hand on the monitor and-

SMG4 found himself out of his room and- in a dark void surrounded by the occasional levitating objects.

“Where am I?”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg4 self aware au #smg4 fanfic #smg4 meggy #smg4 mario #smg4 au #smg34 #megari #IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT #I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THOUGH #help i feel like i need more tags

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waffles-art-writing · 10 months

Note

Can you do Ghost(mw2) x female reader who is like Yor from spy x family(the jobs she has not the personality)

Female reader also has a child

COD MWII Ghost x Female!Assassin!Reader. (Reader has a child)

Summary: You’re recalled from retirement of being an Assassin, your daughter being your main priority. You end up going back into the field with Task Force 141. After the mainly successful mission, Ghost takes you home after finding out you’re injured but not sever enough to need to go to the medical wing. You share a soft moment with the cold lieutenant, showing the side of the quiet man no one has seen. The next morning the babysitter drops your daughter back home, your young child coming home to a surprise and a face she hasn’t seen since she was a wee babe.

Proofread: Kinda???? Not really

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X Female Assassin (AFAB)

Age Rating: 16+

Codename: *Whatever you want it to be*

KEY: Y/N - Your Name. L/N - Last Name. C/N - Codename

Warning/Info: FLUFF!!!! Soft!Ghost, Injury Description, COD Violence, Female!Reader, Weapons. It is reasonably long. Call Of Duty Comic Description of Ghost.

If you want a part 2 please comment!!! <3 :) (PART TWO)

I apologise for the lack of posting, stuff irl has been picking up a lot and I will not be able to post as much as I wish I could. And I am applying for a new job which will result in me having to spend less and less time on here. :( but I’ll update when I can.

A screeching sound pierces through your calm, soundless sleep. The ear piercing sound making you groan, rolling over, smacking your hand onto your nightstand, slapping the screen of your phone. The sound comes to a halt, you look at the time. Eyes widening, you didn’t set the earlier alarm. “Shit shit shit.” You curse out, stumbling to pull on some pants, tossing a shirt over your head as you dash down the hall. Stopping to peek into your daughters room, who is fast asleep, covers pulled up to her chin, a foot sticking out of the bed to the side.

A soft smile spreads across your lips as you look at her. Her hair a mess on the pillow, hands wrapped around her stuffed dog toy, snuggled into it. You move away from the door, continuing on your mission to the bathroom, pulling your hair back into a messy bun. Life has been hectic ever since putting your job as an assassin on hold so you can have your daughter, and not end up losing her cause you’re not around enough. Only two people knew about you and your daughter, both of them still working well and truly.

You flick on the bright light in the bathroom, you look towards the mirror. Dark circles rest under your eyes, hair tousled and messy despite it being pulled up in a messy bun. You lean against the bathroom counter, turning the tap on to brush your teeth. Suddenly your phone vibrates, the sound echoing around the cold room, almost amplifying the sound. You tap the green button on the screen not looking who it was.

“Hello?” You answer, your voice quiet to not wake your daughter.

“Morning L/N.” The deep gravely voice of Price comes from the speakers, it almost sends a chill down your spine. You haven’t been called this early by him in a long while. “Morning John, is there something you need?” You cut straight to the point, not wanting to beat around the bush as to why he is calling you so early in the morning, on a week day of all days.

“Straight to the point as always I see. Yes, we need your expertise for an overview of a mission- Yes I know, before you even complain I know you aren’t in the field anymore, or thats what most say but Laswell says otherwise.” You roll your eyes, of course he would know you still do the occasional job but you haven’t done one for years, you aren’t even sure as to how he thinks you could help. “Mission Overview? What could I possibly help with?” You question, your hands running under the cold water to splash it onto your face.

“Its an Capture or kill mission and if the time comes and we, y’know gotta send the target on their merry way to an early grave, we want you to give us an idea on how we should do it.”

“And why can’t you guys figure it out?”

“L/N we need you for this, its a complicated mission… I myself want you in the field and execute this yourself…”

You sigh, running a hand down your face. You worked for KorTac - a mercenary group - and you assisted Price and his team the Task Force 141 on occasion. But you mainly worked solo, the Task Force 141 never met you, other than Price and Laswell. You met Ghost as well, you both stay in contact occasionally, only in case of emergencies… well more like, needing a ride from the base back home on the very rare occasion he decides to go home.

“Pay?” You ask.

“Whatever your rate is, kid.” He replies.

“Good. I’ll be there in 3 hours.” You hear Price reply with confirmation before hanging up the phone. Your fingers drum against the counter.

Okay, cool, doing another job, nothing new right? Just been out of the field for a few years, just gotta warm up a bit thats all… Right?

———

“Okay behave, don’t do anything silly and listen to your teachers. And remember to listen to Amber’s parents okay? Have a good day and a fun sleepover.” You say to your daughter - Emilia - kissing her forehead. “Yep!” She chimes, a smile spread across her cheeks, her braids neatly tucked up into a ponytail. “Good, Love you.” You smile, pulling her into a hug. “Love you too Mama.” She squeezes her arms around your neck, your crouched form still larger than her. Once you let go, she waves goodbye, running into school towards her friends. You smile, quickly turning around to walk towards the car park.

You make your way towards the dark blue sedan you bought far too long ago, still surprised it still works. Your face falls when you see a figure leaning against the hood of it, hands in their pockets, clad in black. Including a cap and what looks like a skull balaclava. You sigh, knowing who it is. Its not a common thing to see people walk around in a skull print mask and clad in full black.

“Lieutenant…” You greet when you reach him, he stands up and nods to you. “C/N…. Or should I call you Miss L/N?” He pokes, his dead pan tone not helping his remark to come across as teasing. You shake your head with a smile, unlocking the car. “I’m assuming you’ve been sent to make sure I end up coming right?”

Ghost shrugs, a small nod accompanying it. “We can’t be too careful…” He states, climbing into the passenger seat as you get into the drivers side. “Right… whatever you say Ghost.” You huff, buckling yourself in as you pull out of the car parking.

———

“The mission will be tough, but I brought an old acquaintance along to help us plan out a strategy. Boys, meet C/N. She has worked with me in the past and used to work for the Mercenary ground KorTac, she now works solo for the government.” Price states as you stand at the front of the room.

“Hello, Yes before you ask I’m what some call an ‘assassin’. I work solo but I haven’t worked in the field for some years now, as I have had other things going on. But I am still qualified to assist you boys in any way to make sure this mission is a success.” You pause, locking eyes with Ghost, he knows you’re nervous to be here again. You continue to inform them the best strategies for them to be able to do this unnoticed, especially while inside.

———

It’s the day of the mission, you managed to get a babysitter for Emilia. She wasn’t all too happy about you leaving for a few days, but you said you’ll be back in not time, and have a gift for her. Which is partly true, you just hope nothing goes south and cause you to stay away longer than you planned. You want to be back by the weekend, or at least before the new school week starts.

Your plan to stay out of the field didn’t last long, Gaz ended up falling sick with food poisoning, pretty bad food poisoning from the amount of time he spent in the bathroom or medical bay yesterday. Still having an upset gut this morning when you arrived at an ungodly hour in the morning, having just dropped Emilia off at the baby sitters.

The team is communicating back and forth over the comms, you’ve managed to infiltrate the building where the target is. The slick walls on the outside not making the job easier. You are definitely a lot less fit than what you thought you were, but still fit enough to keep up with the team and your job on this mission.

Assassinate the target, and get the hell home.

Simple right? Yeah really simple, if it wasn’t a great big warehouse like building with barely any cover or high points for you to use to your advantage.

———

“Got eyes on the target.” You whisper into the comms, slinking along the beams that support the A-Frame ceiling of the warehouse. “Copy that, Ready when you are C/N.” Price states, Ghost and Soap stating something of confirmation.

You step lightly across the beam, your light footwork going unnoticed by the man littering the floor below you. There’s a catwalk just below you, one armed guard standing at a door that leads into the office where your target sits, back to the door and window that overviews the factory.

The guard walks up and down the cat walk intermittently, observing everything below him. Never above him. How stupid.

As soon as the guard passes by under you, reaching a part in the catwalk railing that’s solid sheet metal. You jump down, landing lightly on your feet, the sounds of the factory drowning out your movement. Crouched low you sneak up behind him, slicing the backs of legs, right through the tendons that keep him standing. You spring up, hand covering his mouth to keep him silent. Other arm wrapping around to the front, quick jerk to the side. Lights out.

You gently lay his limp body down, tucking him up against the metal barrier.

“Guards out, preparing to breach the targets office.” You communicate. “Be careful C/N.” Ghost states over the Comms, both him and Soap just downstairs at the entrance, ready to breach if anything goes sideways. “Always am.” You hear Soap snort at your reply as Price growls at you all to focus.

Your skilful hands test the door, it doesn’t budge, the window that’s just a foot or two away from the edge of the cat walk is open. Either pick lock the door and risk getting caught with your back to the open or swing in through the open window and possibly fall and either hurt your self, die, or break all your bones then die by one of the other guards bullets. Either way you could end up dead.

Window.

Quickest way in.

———

The mission was a success, you managed to get into the room, secure the target and kill them. Clean and quietly. Getting out was a different mission entirely, one of the guards spotted the fact they couldn’t see another guard on the cat walk. They investigated and found the slumped body of the dead guard. Immediately yelling for the alarm to be pulled.

Ghost and Soap busted in to draw their attention to them and away from the office, all you had to do was get the fuck out and get to the extraction point. You managed to slip out the window on the far side of the office, but not without being nicked by the a few bullets.

You manage to sprint across the roof, throwing yourself off the edge and landing on top of a large truck with a large thump. You cough harshly, feeling like your ribs got smashed by a sledge hammer. You stumble to your feet, slipping off the side of the truck and sprinting towards the back fence of the compound, you glance to your right, seeing Ghost and Soap climbing the wall quickly. You fling yourself into the fence, dragging yourself over the top, thankful theres not barbed wire.

“C/N? You good?” Soap calls over the comms, you can hear he’s breathless, the faint sound of Ghost in the background barking orders out to the extraction chopper to start the engine. “Y-Yeah…” You wheeze, rushing through the brush of the forest, weaving in and out of trees heading uphill towards the small clearing the chopper is situated in. Your lungs burn, the cold air stinging your eyes and cheeks. The adrenaline numbing the pain in your leg and arm, your ribs still feeling like you’re wearing a corset.

You stumble into the clearing, Ghost and Soap a few paces ahead, the lieutenant spins around. Noticing you’ve arrived, Soap running to the chopper. You nod to Ghost as you approach, Ghost waits for you to pass before following after you into the chopper. You slump down into the uncomfortable chair of the helicopter, adjusting to keep your ribs from being pushed on by the seat strap.

Both the men ask if you’re okay, you wave them off chuckling while wheezing out a “Just a little unfit is all.” Soap chuckles, Ghost just shakes his head lightly, moving forward to signal for the chopper to get you all out of there.

———

Once back in England and on base you get a phone call from the babysitter a normal thing, it’s almost eight thirty in the evening “Hello?” You ask, bringing the phone to your ear as you walk down path towards the entrance of the base, car parked not too far front he entrance. “Hey Miss L/N! Lizzie here, I was just gonna put Emilia to bed. Are you free to talk to her?” The babysitter Lizzie states, it’s almost like a nightly ritual. Every night that you’re not home, whoever is looking after your daughter will call to see if your available to say goodnight to Emilia.

“Yeah I’m free.” You state, stopping at the end of the path by the entrance of the main building, sitting down on the bench outside. You hear Lizzie talking to Emilia, your daughter sounding tired but excited. “MAMA!” She calls through eh phone, you smile a and laugh lightly hearing your daughters voice warms your heart, her sweet voice making you happy. “Hey pumpkin. You behaving?” You ask her, having a teasing tone. “Yeah! We got to watch a movie while eating dinner!” She states happily, you smile listening to her talk about what happened throughout the day.

The door opens and closes, Ghost slips out into the cold evening. His eyes spot you off to the side, its dusk, the flood lights not coming on just yet. He can see your breath in the cold air, billowing out past your lips. His own breath billowing out into the air as he pulls his mask up, he leans against the small wall of the entrance staircase. He shoves he cigarette between his lips, cupping his hands around the flame of the lighter. He hears your laugh, it echos into the evening air. Its warm and light to his ears, his eyes flick up to watch you. He’s too far away to hear what you’re talking about.

You bid Emilia goodnight, shutting off your phone as you shoved it into your jacket pocket. Sighing as you search your small duffle bag for your keys, knowing you threw them in there. You wince, groaning as you lean over, gripping your side with ragged breaths.

Ghost pushes off the wall as soon as he sees you double over on the bench, showing pain. “Hey hey hey… what’s wrong?” He mumbles, flicking his cigarette in front of his boot and stomping it out. Stopping over the smouldering ashes to crouch down in front of you, pulling his mask down quickly as he kneels. “C/N what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice stern as he looks at your scrunched face, pain obvious across your expression. “My ribs- I… I thought they were just bruised.” You wheeze out, sitting back to look at him. His hands ghost over your knees as he stands, sitting next to you.

“Let me check, we don’t want you to go home with broken bones. Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asks, motioning for you to shrug off your jacket. “Just a few grazes from a bullet but I handled them, they weren’t deep.” You groan, pulling your jacket off, your thick jersey and shirt thankfully being warm enough in the crisp air. “Okay, may I touch your ribs? Under your jumper?” The taller man asks, you nod your head turning slightly so your back is facing him. His glove clad hands snake under your jersey and shirt, ghosting over your waist up to your ribs.

“Did you land on your back or front?” He asks, his fingers delicately pressing against your rib cage. “Front, kinda threw myself off the roof onto a truck roof…” you state, flinching when his hands snake around to your front, right under the hem of your sports bra. Rough gloves pressing into your ribs. You wine, flinching away from his hands. “Ow- Watch it lieutenant…” you snap, your body disagreeing with your sudden movements. “M’sorry” he mumbles, he pulls his hands back. Laying your jacket across your shoulders again. “Well nothing is broken from what I could tell, but you’re not driving.” He states, standing from his spot next to you and grabbing your duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

You look at him confused, a brow raise as you slip your arms through eh jacket again, fixing your jersey and shirt in the process. You stand, looking up at the large man. “What? I need to get home, what the hell do you mean Ghost?” You ask, tone almost angry. “I’m driving you home, you shouldn’t drive when you have damaged ribs.” He states, keeping his explanation to a minimum. You sigh shaking your head as you follow him, he ready knows where your car is. You both arrived in the same vehicle so thankfully he remembered where you parked.

———

The drive back to your place was quiet, the occasional question, or observation. Ghost helps you out of your car, his hand ghosting over the small of your back guiding you up the stairs of the small apartment. “You didn’t have to walk me to my door, Ghost.” You state, unlocking the door and pushing the door open. Toeing off your boots by the door and dumping your bag on the couch as you walk past it, Ghost follows you in, leaving his boots by the door while closing it and locking it. He immediately walks towards your bathroom, he’s been here a few times, he knows the layout like the back of his hand. “Ghost? The hell are-” “Finding your med kit, take your shirt off, I need to properly check your ribs.” You stare down the corridor towards the bathroom with a shocked expression. You throw your coat over the back of the couch, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom, passing it towards your bedroom at the end of the hallway. “I’m in my room just so you know.” You call out, grabbing the hem of your jersey, wincing when you tug it up.

You jump at the feeling of calloused hands resting over yours. “G-Ghost?” You stutter, feeling his presence behind you, his breathing quiet and muffled by his mask. “Let me help.” He offers, more like stating he is going to help you even if you deny it. You lift your arms above your head, wincing at the movement. He tugs the heavy fabric carefully over your head, throwing it over to the hamper in the corner. You wince you turn around, looking up at the taller man. “Why… Why are you doing this?” You ask, brows furrowed.

“You go n’one else to help you, and I know that you wouldn’t get help.” He states, gently pulling your dark shirt up and over your head as well, your sports bra on full display. Ghost’s eyes linger on your chest for a second before quickly adverting his eyes to the medkit on your bed. “Sit down.” He mumbles as he opens the small bag, kneeling down in front of you. You sit with your arms tucked around your stomach, conscious of how you look.

You have always been conscious of your body, especially after your pregnancy. Your tummy never got back to as toned and flat as it was before. Stretch marks paint your hips and thighs, and your lower abdomen like tiger stripes, rough to the touch and unpleasant to look at. Ghost grabs the anti inflammatory cream from the kit, pulling his gloves off and warming the cream up in his hands. You stare at the movement of his hands, mind wandering to thoughts you never thought you would have again.

What would his hands feel like, I wonder if his touch is soft - he lays wears gloves maybe he has soft hands? Maybe they are rough, like his personality. What his he doesn’t like what I look like and thinks I’m disgusting, what if he thinks pathetic for being in pain. What if-

“Y/n?” Ghost asks, he’s being saying your name for the past few moments. You snap your attention back to him, letting out a small ‘huh?’ When you notice him looking at you with slightly furrowed brows. “Can I put the cream on?” He asks, his voice quiet, his hands resting on your legs, palms facing up with the cream smeared across them. “Oh… uh yeah…” A small blush of embarrassment paints your cheeks as you sit straighter, arms resting across your tummy. Ghost watches you sit up properly, reluctant to move your arms. He attempts to work around your arms, gently spreading the cream across your ribs. His hands are calloused but his touch his soft but firm enough to make sure the cream spreads.

“…Love, I need you to move your arms…” He states softly, his eyes looking up to yours, his soft with concern. You furrow your brows, looking away as you move your arms, the yellow light from your lamp glowing softly across your skin. The light bumped stretch marks marring your skin, the deep colour a large contrast against the rest of your skin, most of them have lightened but a few are still dark. You flinch when you feel his hands move lower along your rib cage.

He hasn’t said anything, quiet, like always, eyes analysing everything he is doing in great detail.

He finishes rubbing the cream in after gently lifting the side of your sports bra to get under the cloth, gently massaging the cream into your sore body. “Its still going to be bruise to shit, you’ll have to be careful…” He mumbles, he gently takes your left arm into his hands, peeling back the bandage you haphazardly wrapped around while back on the base. He smears the residue of the cream around the wound, “You did a good job at cleaning it…. Just half assed bandage” he teases lightly, re wrapping your arm with a clean bandage.

You shrug, handing your head, eyes trained on his knee thats pressing into the plush carpet of your room. The same carpet you paid too much money for and installed it yourself while almost 3 months pregnant. A lot of tears have been shed on this carpet, some blood but mainly tears. You hear him say something, your mind elsewhere as you mindlessly shake your head. Not a hundred percent sure on what you were disagreeing too.

You never noticed how detailed his tattoo is, its on display as he takes his jacket off, rolling his long sleeve up. The permanent ink thats been delicately painted into his skin stand out against the rest of his pale skin tone. The scars he’s gained after the tattoo break the ink in small lines, mostly the ink has stayed. His hands are large, rough but gentle. He’s always been a tough and scary man on the outside but you can see he has the same needs as anyone else. Love, affection and care… even partnership. Yes he has the team but he needs something more, but he’s scared, hesitant. Horrified if he gets too attached or too close with someone he cares about he will lose them, he’s terrier he will do the wrong thing, scare them off, pained himself in the a bad light he’s always been known to hold.

Ghost eventually gets to check the bullet graze on your thigh, its shallow. Still needing antibiotic cream and a new bandage, your track pants that unzip up your mid thigh are scrunched up around your hips and upper thigh as he works on your injury. Mumbling something as you hold the clothing out of the way.

“…Can you stay the night?”

Ghost’s movements cease for a brief moment, his breathing stilling as he glances up at you then back down at the bandage he’s wrapping around your thigh. You stay silent, looking at him. Hands itching to do something, but you can’t.

“…Sure…” he replies after a moment.

You nod your head, happy that he agreed. A little anxious despite the fact you know him, he knows you. Fuck he even knows your daughter since she was a wee babe, but hasn’t seen her for some years. She probably won’t remember him at all. She was barely three when he met her, she’s now turning six in a week.

Ghost zips your track pants back up, pulling the fabric down your leg. His hands linger on your covered calf. Fingers pressing in the muscle gently as he stares blankly. You can see he’s thinking, thinking to the point of being motionless. You lean forward, ignoring the slight pain thats throbbing throughout your body. You reach down a tap his hand thats on your calf, knowing he isn’t fond of physical touch. “Ghost…” you whisper, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.

He snaps his head up to look at you, eyes set at a hard glare which soften slightly when he realises its you. You give him a soft smile. “You okay?” You ask softly, his hands falling away from your calf, the warmth going with it. You miss it, the comforting weight and warmth of his large hands gripping your calf. He nods his head as he cleans his throat, standing to clean up the med kit and discard of the old bandages. “Yeah, I’ll be right back… Get uh…” he pauses glancing over at you when he turns to walk to the door. “Change and get into bed, I’ll get you water an a pain killer.” He states, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Ghost shuts the door softly, careful to not slam it. He glances down at his watch. 2245 (10:45pm) he groans quietly, nudging the bathroom door open again the put the med kit back in the sink cabinet.

Why the hell did I agree to stay? What the fuck is wrong with me? Her skin was so soft… Her stretch marks were fucking amazing- FUCK I can’t think like this. I need to stop thinking like this, we are friends… are we even friends? What is she hates me and Is only offering for me to stay out of sympathy or it being late? God she has a kid, I can’t just barge into their life and be the man they see with their mother. I’m not a go-

His thoughts get cut short when he spots a photo of the fridge door, one side of it ripped, torn off. He reaches up and slides it out from under the sunflower magnet. The photo is of you, smiling as bright as the sun thats beaming in through the tree tops. Emilia is cradled in your arms, clearly only a few months old. Her big eyes beaming in sunlight, same colour as yours. Ghost’s fingers trace the ripped edge of the photo, he knew who was supposed to be there. He quickly pins it back to the fridge before taking the pain killers and water to your room.

———

You watch as Ghost places the bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. You’re sitting in bed, bag t-shirt and shorts. You look up at ghost, patting the bed next to you. Ghost stares for a moment, shocked you want him in your bed and not to just crash on the couch.

He opens his mouth to deny but you beat him to it. “You aren’t sleeping on that piece of shit couch, you’re staying in here with me. And thats final.” You state, tone firm. Ghost looks from you to the open space on the king sized bed next to you. His eyes flickering back and forth over and over again. “Sleeping on top of the blankets.” He mumbles out, knowing we won’t be able to get past your stubborn attitude, you’re a mother. You know how to get your way. You smile, a soft one of reassurance. You throw a spare shirt at him and point towards the box in the corner.

“Stole this from you a year ago cause you forgot to take it with you after you did your washing here…” You chuckle lightly, “The box should have some basketball shorts or something you can wear. They were my brothers that he gave to me when I was pregnant cause they were bigger than my clothes.” Ghost just nods, crouching down in front of the box and searching through it, he knows you would be angry at him if he slept in his clothes he wore that day.

He looks over at you then towards the lamp next to you, you get the idea and turn over. Back facing him, hand resting on the switch to turn it off as soon as you feel the bed dip behind you. It feels like an eternity for him to lay on the bed, even though he’s on top of the covers. You can hear a small groan emitting from his side of the bed, you flick the switch. The room delving into darkness, the only light peeking out from under our door, the nightlight that sits in the hallway for Emilia happily lighting under the dark corridor.

It quiet, apart from your breathing and Ghost’s muffled breaths, and the starting pitter patter of rain hitting the window. You turn to lay on your back, keeping your eyes on the ceiling.

“Thank you.”

Your soft words break the silence, Ghost looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s laying like a dead man, straight as board, hands clasped together over his stomach as he looks towards the ceiling.

He hums in response, he turns his head to look at you properly, the dim light from the hallway making it practically impossible to see anything, but his eyes have adjusted easily. He reaches over to clasp your hand thats resting on your own stomach overtop the blankets. Squeezing it softly, letting you know he heard you. A small smile creeps up onto your lips. You turn onto your side, facing him now. He copies your action, bodies mirroring each other as your hands lay clasped together between the two of you. You let out a small sigh, his hand squeezes yours when he hears the heavy breath.

“Emilia would’ve jumped in between us if she was here, she doesn’t like when it starts raining late at night.” You state, smiling to yourself as you trace Ghost’s broad silhouette in the dark room. The small amount of light peeking through the thing curtains behind him on the far side of the room. “So she’s scared of rain?” Ghost’s rough voice cuts through the quiet, the gravel in his voice hoarse but still has a soft tone to it as he tries to talk quietly.

You shrug, unsure what she’s actually scared of. “I think it’s more when it suddenly pours down and it’s dark, the sound and lack of light scares her.” You hum, still trying to figure out what your daughter is scared of, even though you have reassure her many times that its just rain. You hear the deep rumble of Ghost making a humming like sound, like he’s thinking.

“Well… I’m sure there’s no monsters, you’re scary enough” he teases, squeezing your hand. You feign hurt, gasping and swatting his chest lightly. A giggle leaving you, a small, breathy almost non existent chuckle rumbles from Ghost’s chest. “God, if the Ghost thinks I’m scary, I really must be.” You laugh, teasing him back. Your ribs hurt from your laughter, but you’re too caught up in the fact you are hearing the one and only Lieutenant Riley laughing, laying on your bed, your hand in his.

“Nah, yer alright. You’re scary, but not as scary as Price when he hasn’t had his morning coffee” he jokes, tugging you closer slightly, he’s still on top of the blankets. His arm wrapping around your waist, careful on your sore ribs. “That’s true.” You agree, laughing softly as you place a hand on his chest, feather lightly touches run along your back. Your head tucked under his chin, his mask still on. Thankfully he didn’t wear the hard skull one and just a simple fabric one with a skull print.

Your laughter slowly ceases, breathing going back to normal. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you speak up again.

“Thank you again… This means a lot Ghost.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Simon…”

“What?”

“Call me Simon…”

Your eyes widen at his words, a warm feeling flooding your chest as you tuck your face into the nook between his shoulder and neck.

“Thank you Simon.”

“Anytime Y/n”

His words were barely a whisper, you fall back into silence. Its nice, the heat from his body keeping you warm, eating your pain in a way you didn’t think was possible. The pain killers probably taking most the credit for the lack of pain, yet the sense of security and comfort falls over you. Your eyes slide shut, breathing evening out as sleep pulls you into the depths of slumber.

“Goodnight, Love.”

————

You walk out of your room, hair messy, rubbing your eyes, feet padding across the hardwood of the hallway. Mind still in sleep mode. You round the corner into the kitchen from the hallway, bumping into something… more like someone. You wobble as you lose your balance, arms snake around your waist quickly, pulling you close.

“Careful, I don’t wanna take you to the hospital cause you broke your ass.” A deep voice chuckles, you look up, bleary eyed and confused. “O-Oh… Sorry Gho- Simon…” You apologies, rubbing a hand down your face with a groan, leaning your forehead against his chest. He’s changed into his cargo pants from the day before, same shirt from last night. It fits a little tight across his chest and his biceps but not too tight.

“Drinks on the coffee table, go sit down.” He states, his voice still laced with sleep. You look at him confused, glancing over at the coffee table. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” You state, walking over to the couch and slumping into it.

“I’m not the one who looks like I got ran over by a bus.” He teases as he walks over, bowl of fruit in hand and more painkillers and a glass of water. You thank him as he hands them to you, he sits next to you on the couch. “Feeling any better?” He asks, voice quiet. You nod your head, scooping some fruit into your mouth. The comfortable quiet gets broken by a knock at the door, you jump from your spot. “Shit” you mumble around a mouthful of fruit. “That’s Lizzie with Emilia.” You state stumbling from the couch, placing the bowl of fruit on the table, throwing your hair back into some sort of up-do. Simon stands from his spot, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “Sit back down, I’ll get it.” He states, turning to go to the door.

“Wait Simon you still got-” you were gonna say hes still got his mask on, it will scare Lizzie and Emilia and confused them both as well. But your words die in your throat as you watch him tug it over his head, stuffing it in his pocket. You didn’t realise until now he must’ve washed the black war paint off when he got up. You watched in stunned silence, the man who never takes the mask off, ever. Has now taken it off, his dark short cut hair on display.

With baited breath you watch as the door opens, Lizzie coming into view with Emilia standing next to her gripping her hand. Lizzie looks up at the taller male with wide eyes, filled with confusion. You’re too shocked to register any words being exchanged between the two, you’re shaken from your trance when Simon turns to face you with a small smile. Jaw covered with a light stubble, dark chocolate eyes, a small scar cuts into his brow, two other scars rest just above his other brow. His nose is sharp, jawline defined. On his left another scars cuts through his top lip going up to the outer edge of his nose. There’s a another scar that paints his skin from the bridge of his nose trailing to the right, ending on his cheek bone below his eyes.

“MAMA!” Emilia screams, snapping you out of the trance properly. You crouched down catching her in your arms, ignoring the fact she just rammed straight into your heavily bruised ribs. “Hey pumpkin! I missed you so much.” Emilia wraps her arms around your neck, legs clinging to your waist like a koala as you stand up. Your arms scooped under her to support her properly as you walk over to stand next to Simon. “Thanks a lot Lizzie. I’ll go get your pay-” Simon stops you from moving towards the kitchen island to get your wallet. “Already paid her.” He states, hand resting on your lower back as you look up at him. Emilia looks between the two of you smiling. Lizzie waves it off and says shes happy to do it again, you bid her goodbye and close the door.

Emilia dragged Simon off to her room while you talked to Lizzie, saying something about wanting to show him her stuffed toys. You thank Lizzie again, showing your appreciation for her looking after your daughter. Once you closed the door, you stroll down the hallway. Hearing the rumbling timbre of Simon’s voice softly echoing around the apartment. You reach Emilia’s room, leaning against the door frame, you bite your tongue to not giggle at the sight in front of you.

There’s stands, Simon Ghost Riley, Clad in black cargo pants and a dark grey shirt. Sitting Criss Cross Apple Sauce on the floor, the pastel pink fluffy rug below him a strong contrast to his clothing. Emilia is rambling on about her stuff toys, pulling each stuffed animal off her bed to show the large man. Simon’s eyes are soft, just the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he nods along to Emilia’s words.

“And this one is Burt! He’s a water dragon! See!” The young girl states, a large smile on her face, cheeks rosy from excitement to showing a new person her toys. “Nice to meet you Burt.” Simon greets the toy, probably the umpteenth one he has greeted in the span of five minutes. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Simon!” Emilia states, hanging her voice to sound like a boyish drawl. You can’t help but chuckle at this, walking into the room when they both look over at you.

“I see your toys like Mr. Simon quite a lot, sweetheart.” You smile, taking a seat on the ground, knees tucked beneath you. Emilia smiles, nodding her head as she grabs another toy, leaving the small blue dragon next to Simon, like the rest of the toys she’s shown him so far. “She’s very confident and friendly for a kid.” Simon quietly states, keeping his voice low to talk to you. You nod and shrug your shoulders, a small smirk on your lips. “Yeah, I guess so. She always has been.”

“Mr. Simon… are you staying the night?” Emilia ask’s suddenly, gripping her favourite stuffed dog, in her hands. Simon looks from the young girl to you, in which you just nod to Emilia. “If your mum says I can.” He states, his tone soft. Emilia’s eyes light up, she jumps towards you, pressing the dog toy into your chest. “Please mama! Please please please! Can he stay!” She asks, more like demands. You laugh lightly, scooping the young girl up in your arms. Cradling her against you, humming in a a question manner. “Hmmm. I don’t see why not. SO yes, he can stay.” You conclude, laughing when Emilia squeals in excitement. “Thank you thank you!” She dashes from her spot in your arms, towards her bedroom door. “I gotta go build a fort for movies! Don’t come over till I’m done!” She states, dashing towards the living room, her bare feet pounding against the hardwood.

“Well… Look’s like you have a fan.” You tease the quiet man, a small smile on your lips as your eyes soften when you see him. His large and scarred hands softly gripping the small dragon toy in his hands. “Seem’s so… Guess I’m going to be spending more time here.” He states, standing as he places the toy back on the bed. You stand next to him, leaning up and leaving a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you…” you softly state, placing a hand on his upper arm before leaving the room when you hear Emilia yell something about needing help.

Simon watches you leave, a hand ghosting over his cheek. His chest tightening with emotion, it feels tight but its almost comforting. He shakes his head as he follows you out, planning to help Emilia with her ‘fort’.

#fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw ghost #cod mw x reader #female reader #afab reader #call of duty fanfic

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magicfootballstuff · 10 months

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Dirty Little Secret - part 3 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 3/?

Read other parts here.

———

Your life can be split into two parts - before the Arnold Clark Cup and after the Arnold Clark Cup.

Or before Leila and after Leila.

You return to Arsenal and it’s surprisingly easy to settle back into the club routine and prepare for the next league game. You’d been slightly worried that it would be difficult to adjust, an abrupt return to reality after ten days of secret meetings and illicit hookups, but life at Arsenal is exactly as it was before.

It helps that the Arnold Clark Cup almost feels like it took place in a different reality. What you had with Leila was just a holiday fling between two consenting adults. You’ve both returned to your real lives now.

But then one evening three weeks after the international break, you’re tidying your apartment and sorting through things to have a clearout, when you find Leila’s red Spain jersey amongst a pile of clothes. You trace your finger over the yellow number fifteen on the front, then flip it over to look at Leila’s name on the back. You haven’t yet washed it and when you lift it to your nose and inhale, you’re sure you can still smell Leila’s scent on it, and you know that you didn’t imagine those two weeks at all.

You haven’t talked to Leila since you parted ways at the end of the international break, but seeing her shirt brings a whirlwind of memories that leaves you yearning for something.

Before you even have time to second guess yourself, you’re swapping your sweatshirt for Leila’s football shirt, then sprawling artfully across your bed as you take a selfie from above and send it to Leila.

You Thanks for the new pyjamas

It’s just a bit of fun - just like every other moment you shared with Leila. Part of you doesn’t expect her to reply. And she doesn’t straight away, you’ve given up on sorting and have settled down on the sofa to watch a Manchester City men’s game on the television when your phone finally vibrates with a response.

Leila Looking gooood 🤤

She doesn’t say anything else and you leave it there, not sure what else to say without coming across as too eager, so you set your phone aside and give your full attention to the football.

An hour has passed before another message comes through.

Leila Sorry I was out for dinner but home now

She’s attached an image to her message, a picture of her wearing the England shirt you exchanged with her. Except that she’s wearing just the England shirt, the hem coming down to cover her hips but very little else, her long legs bare.

You Leilaaaaa

Suddenly you don’t care about the football on the TV anymore.

———

Arsenal gets knocked out of the Champions League in the quarter finals by Wolfsburg, which means you miss out on the opportunity to play against Leila again in the semi final. Your last glimmer of hope that you might get to see Leila before a possible meeting during the Euros in the summer is snuffed out.

But when Barcelona beats Wolfsburg to advance to the final, you receive a surprising message a few days later.

Leila You coming to the Champions League final?

You hadn’t really given it much thought to be honest, since your own Champions League journey came to an end and it became irrelevant. The final is after your own season ends and there’s been talk amongst some of your Arsenal teammates of going on holiday together before you all split off into your various national teams for the Euros, but nothing set in stone.

The chance to watch Leila play in such an important match, to possibly even see her lift the trophy that every footballer in Europe dreams of lifting, would be special. But you haven’t seen Leila since the Arnold Clark Cup and there’s not enough of a thing going on between you for it to seem appropriate for you to just show up without Leila’s permission.

You Do you want me to come?

Before even waiting for Leila’s response, you already start checking your diary, working out the logistics of a spontaneous weekend in Turin and whether it fits in with your pre-Euro schedule.

Leila Yeahhhh. I can get a free ticket if you want? Barca friends and family area

You smile to yourself as you type out your reply.

You Aww, am I your friend? 😉 Why do you think I’d be cheering for Barca anyway? Maybe I’m a big Lyon fan

Leila replies straight away.

Leila 🖕

———

It turns out that Leila is serious about her offer of a ticket to the Champions League final, which is why just two weeks after the end of your season with Arsenal and the heartbreak of missing out on the title by just a single point, you get on a plane to Turin by yourself.

You don’t own a Barcelona shirt and though you take the Spain shirt from Leila with you, it stays in your suitcase as you head to the stadium. Having not yet had the chance to talk to Leila in person, you’re still not sure exactly what’s going on between you and it feels like a step too far to show up to one of her games wearing her name on your back.

Instead, you’re trying to keep a low profile, donning a pair of dark sunglasses in the hope that it’ll make you less likely to get spotted by eager-eyed fans curious to discover why you’re sitting in the Barcelona family section.

It’s easy to get swept up in the atmosphere of the stadium. There are way more Barcelona fans than Lyon fans and the noise they make is immense. You’re a Manchester City fan, an Arsenal player, but tonight you’re a culer. You don’t know the chants but you don’t need to because you get caught up in the pure thrill of it all. Even when Barcelona go one, two, three goals down, the singing continues and there’s still belief that they can pull this back. Alexia gets one back just before half time that feels like a reward to the fans for their belief in the team.

But despite Barcelona’s best efforts in the second half, Lyon’s three goals prove too much to overcome and when the final whistle blows, they collapse to the pitch, exhausted and defeated.

You watch as Leila, who spent the game on the bench, wanders onto the pitch at full time, and your heart breaks for her when you see the hurt on her face and the tears shining in her eyes. You know that Barcelona were favourites and if you’re completely honest, you expected them to win. You thought that you would be celebrating with Leila tonight, but Lyon have the best record in this competition for a reason and now you need to prepare yourself to console her.

It’s quite a lot for something that’s just a casual friends with benefits situation, but then again, so is flying to Italy to watch the final in the first place.

The trophy ceremony seems to drag on forever, as if you’re down there on the pitch on the losing team yourself. You’ve been on the wrong side of a cup final enough times yourself to know that there are very few worse feelings in football than having to stay on the pitch after losing such an important game and watching another team celebrate with the trophy you wanted to lift, so you know exactly how Leila must be feeling right now.

After the ceremony, the Barcelona players wander over to this section of the crowd and greet their families over the advertising boards. You hang back as Leila exchanges hugs with what you assume to be her family. This moment is for them, not for you, and you know that you need to wait for Leila to beckon you across if she wants to see you. What would you say to them anyway? You can hardly introduce yourself to Leila’s parents as the girl who hooked up with their daughter for two weeks in February. If the roles were reversed, you don’t know if you’d want to explain the situation to your own family.

So you wait, and you keep waiting.

But Leila doesn’t beckon you over. In fact, she doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there at all.

The longer you’re standing there, the more the doubt starts to cloud your mind. At first it was explainable - there are obviously other people here to see Leila who she would prioritise talking to after the game more than you. But when she moves away from her own family to talk to the family of her teammates, then eventually moves back onto the pitch and hovers around a group of dejected Barcelona players, you start to wonder if Leila has forgotten that she invited you entirely.

Maybe you should’ve been more assertive. Maybe you should’ve stood closer to the barrier so that Leila couldn’t miss you.

You sit down again on the plastic stadium seat and pull out your phone, deciding to message Leila instead

You Sorry about the result but I’m so proud of you anyway! Let me know when you’re free? I can’t wait to see you!

When you look up, you can no longer see Leila. You scan the few blaugrana shirts still on the pitch just in case, but most of the team seems to have returned inside to the dressing room and you can only assume that Leila is one of them. The crowd has thinned out too, even the friends and family sections that were full long after the rest of the fans started to leave the stadium is starting to empty, and you know it’s probably time for you to leave too.

As you make your way out of the stands, you find a quiet corner on the almost deserted stadium concourse and decide to call Leila. You’re not sure if she’s checked her phone yet since the final whistle, so it’s not exactly a surprise when it rings straight through to her voicemail, but you decide to leave a message anyway.

“Leila, it’s me,” you say. “Listen, I…” You let out a sigh, then say, “I know you must be hurting right now. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling and I … and I just wish I could do something or say something to make it better but I can’t. But I’m proud of you. Just getting to the final is an achievement. Shit, I know that’s not what you need to hear right now but…”

You lean your head against the nearest wall and close your eyes in frustration, fully aware that you’re rambling almost nonsensically at this point.

“I’m here if you need me,” you continue. “Or if you don’t, that’s fine too. I’m leaving the stadium to get some food, then I’ll probably go back to my hotel, but just let me know you’re okay?”

You hesitate for just a few seconds, unsure how to sign off, before you panic and just end the message there.

“Fuck!” you growl.

You turn around to lean your back against the wall, only to realise that the concourse isn’t as empty as you thought, but that two fans in Barcelona shirts have just witnessed your outburst.

“Sorry,” you apologise to them, but they don’t seem bothered by your swearing. In fact, they actually approach you, a little giddy, and you suddenly remember that you’re not as anonymous as you’d often like to be.

“Can we get a selfie?” one of the girls asks, taking out her phone. “My friend is a huge Arsenal fan. You’re one of her favourite players.”

You force a smile onto your face. Normally you don’t mind fan interactions, in fact it usually warms your heart to know that there are people out there who you don’t even know who support you and look up to you, but there’s a time and place for that and you’re really not in the mood right now. Despite that, Leila is to blame for your sour mood, not them, and you’re not going to take out your frustrations on a couple of innocent fans.

“Of course,” you tell them, positioning yourself so that one girl stands on either side of you and smiling at the outstretched phone of the girl on the left.

“Thank you,” they say, once the selfies have been taken.

“No problem,” you reply, and you only let the smile slide off your face when they’re out of sight.

You really need to get out of here. And fast.

———

You thought that by distancing yourself from the stadium and the match, it might ease your mind a little. But by the time you get back to your hotel with a paper bag of takeout food, you feel more uneasy than ever.

Leila is still silent. No texts, no calls, nothing on social media.

You replay your voicemail message over and over again in your mind, each word sitting like a brick on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Was it too much? Surely Leila would have messaged you when she was ready. What if your message comes across as needy, as smothering? What if you’re only pushing her away further?

Fuck. Leila probably doesn’t even want you here at all. You’re only a hookup to her, a bit of fun to pass your downtime during the Arnold Clark Cup. You were wrong to read anything more into the invitation to watch the final. She can only have wanted you here on standby, a plaything to use as a celebration if Barcelona won the trophy. But they didn’t and she doesn’t need you, she doesn’t want you.

The more you spiral, the more you want to speak to her. Just a single message, a word of reassurance or even just an acknowledgement that she’s not in the right headspace to see you tonight, would be enough to settle your anxiety.

As it is, you’re alone in a hotel room in an unfamiliar city with nothing but a bag of food and your own intrusive thoughts.

You want to call someone, to talk to a friend before you completely fall apart. Leah, perhaps. You’ve known her forever and out of all your friends, she’s probably the least likely to judge you if you call her up out of nowhere in floods of tears and tell her you’re having a breakdown in a hotel room in Turin over some girl you hardly know. In fact, Leah is such a good friend that if she knew you were distressed, she’d probably hop on the first flight to Italy to comfort you in person.

But Leah is on holiday in America and she deserves the time off before the Euros without having to worry about her idiotic best friend having girl problems on the other side of the world.

You’re just going to have to deal with this alone.

Hot tears spill down your face and you cocoon yourself beneath the bedcovers, wishing that the bed would swallow you whole.

You don’t know how you could’ve been so stupid to think that this meant something, how you could’ve been so stupid to catch feelings for Leila when there are clearly far too many obstacles between you for it to ever work out. In your defence, it’s only now that you’re starting to realise that you are catching feelings for her, but still… you could’ve done more to stop it from happening in the first place.

The doubt and the self-loathing clouds your mind and you cry it out until you can’t cry anymore, until you finally succumb to exhaustion, passing out into a dreamless sleep with tear-stained cheeks.

———

You wake up alone, having had a bad night’s sleep, to several messages from Leila, which can be summed up by the most recent one.

Leila Can I see you today?

The rest of her messages, all sent within the last couple of hours this morning, are a mixture of pleas and apologies.

You’re still pissed at her for not responding to any of your messages last night. But you flew all the way to Turin at Leila’s request, used the ticket that she gave you for free to watch the match, and you don’t fly back until later today. And, despite your anger, you do still want to see her.

You’re not going to make an effort though, which is why you message her back with the address of your hotel. If Leila wants to see you, then she can be the one to make the effort to come and see you herself.

When she arrives at your hotel, you decide to meet her downstairs in the hotel restaurant, instead of inviting her up to your room. There’s less temptation to let her seduce her way back onto your good side if you meet in public.

Leila looks like shit - that’s your first impression. She looks like she’s had even less sleep than you have, her eyes puffy, her expression weary, her usual smile absent.

If she hadn’t pissed you off yesterday, you’d probably hug her.

Instead, you just let her sit down across from you and ask her, “Do you want to eat?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m not hungry today.”

“Coffee, then?” you suggest, because she definitely looks like she needs it.

Leila nods.

You’ve already ordered yourself a coffee (you’re normally a tea person but you don’t want to risk the Italian tea not being to your taste) and a sandwich, but you call over the waiter once more for Leila.

“So what happened?” you eventually ask, once Leila has ordered her coffee.

“I’m sorry,” Leila apologises with a shrug, and from the way that her eyebrows are furrowed together, it seems like she’s having a difficult time trying to hold herself together.

“Sorry for what?” you ask, waiting for her to admit that she messed up, but when she doesn’t, you continue talking. “I flew here by myself, I sat in the family section surrounded by people I don’t know, all speaking a language I don’t understand. The only person I knew in this city yesterday was you. You invited me here. I thought you wanted me here.”

“I want you here,” Leila pleads with you. “But a lot happened yesterday and it was too much.”

“I get that. You think I’ve never lost a cup final? I came here to support you, win or lose. And then you hurt me. You made me feel like an idiot.”

The effort that Leila has been putting into not falling apart crumbles and the sobs heave through her body, shoulders trembling and tears spilling down her cheeks. Annoyed with her or otherwise, it’s not nice to see, and you feel a pang of regret that your harsh words have upset her.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for one of the unused napkins on the table and passing it across to Leila, letting your fingers brush against her hand as you do. “I’m pissed off, but I don’t want to see you cry. I don’t care that you didn’t win the Champions League. I would’ve loved to watch you lift that trophy but I’m proud of you anyway for making it to the final.”

Leila uses the napkin to wipe her tears, and the silence, as well as the sad look in her eyes, compels you to keep talking.

“And it’s not like I was expecting anything from you yesterday either,” you tell her. “If you didn’t want to see me or you were too busy, that’s fine. But just one message to let me know what was going on and I wouldn’t have been left waiting around feeling stupid.”

“I know, I know,” Leila says, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “So much stuff is happening right now. It’s all too much. But you’re right, I should have messaged.”

You don’t know what to say. It almost feels like you’re back to square one, like you don’t even know Leila at all. But then you realise - do you even know Leila? It’s not like you’ve actually spent any time getting to know each other. There’s an obvious attraction between you, and physical chemistry too, but do you actually have anything in common beside your profession?

“Can I make it up to you?” Leila blurts out.

“How?” you ask.

You’re expecting a smirk to slide across Leila’s lips and for her to suggest you go somewhere private for her to apologise to you in a more physical way, but instead, she looks you straight in the eye and says, “Come to Barcelona?”

“When?”

“This week. We have another final - la Copa de la Reina. You could come to the game.”

You let out a sigh. You can’t put yourself through what you’ve been through this weekend again, as tempting as it is to just forgive Leila and succumb to her request. Yet despite the fact that you cried yourself to sleep last night because of Leila, you can’t deny the fact you’ve still got a soft spot for her and it’s incredibly difficult to say no to her.

“I’ve got an England camp coming up soon,” you try to reason with her. “We’re starting our Euro prep.”

“Just for a few days,” Leila pleads with you. “I really want you to come. Please.”

“I can’t just drop everything at short notice,” you tell Leila, though your plans for the next couple of weeks don’t involve much more than relaxing as much as possible before getting straight back to work with the Lionesses.

“Okay,” Leila says, and though that’s all she says, you can tell she’s disappointed.

Would it really be so bad if you said yes? Would it hurt to give her another chance? You don’t want what happened yesterday to ruin what’s been going between you forever, which means forgiving her at some point. Maybe a little holiday in Barcelona, especially before you enter the biggest summer of your life so far, is exactly what you need.

It’ll be like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, an escape from reality until you have to return to life as a footballer and Leila’s on-pitch rival.

“Fine, I’ll look at flights to Barcelona,” you concede. “I can give you two days, maybe three, before I need to be back in England.”

“Thank you,” Leila says, smiling at you gratefully.

She reaches into the little bag that she brought with her and pulls out a piece of blue and pink fabric, and as she unfurls it you realise it’s a Barcelona shirt.

“My jersey from yesterday,” she explains as she passes it across the table. “To thank you for coming to see me. If you can come to Barcelona next week, you could wear it to the final?”

Wearing Leila’s name to one of her matches sounds serious. It sounds like a commitment. As is flying to Turin, or even to Barcelona to watch one of her games, but that hasn’t quite gone to plan.

Things were so easy when you were flirting from different countries, or sneaking around St George’s Park for a bit of fun. The rational part of your brain tries to warn you that it’s probably not a good thing that at the first sign of this perhaps actually being a little more serious, it’s resulted in this misunderstanding and both of you getting upset.

But the pleading look in Leila’s bloodshot eyes is impossible to say no to.

“Thanks,” you say, refolding the jersey and setting it aside.

“When do you go home?” Leila asks.

“This afternoon,” you answer. “My flight’s just after four. You?”

“In a couple of hours,” Leila tells you. “I can’t stay much longer. Only Patri knows I’m not at the team hotel.”

You can’t help but smile, reminded a little of the way you both snuck around St George’s Park back in February, only now your secrecy has led you to fly to a whole different country while Leila has snuck across town to see you.

This thing between you, this connection that has been growing since that tackle back in Barcelona, is far from easy. But aren’t the best things in life worth the fight?

“Come here,” you say, pushing back your chair and getting to your feet.

You hold your arms out wide until Leila understands and gets up too, stepping around the table and into your embrace. Her arms wind around your back as you pull her close, burying your face into her shoulder

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” Leila mumbles into your hair.

You don’t say anything in response, instead simply squeezing her closer and savouring the feeling of her body against yours. If you can make the logistics of a trip to Barcelona next week work, it won’t be long until you can hold her again like this, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to make the most of every second you can get with her before you have to go in separate directions again.

If this tumultuous weekend in Turin has taught you anything, it’s that you can’t take anything for granted.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi imagine #dirty little secret

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first-edition · 1 year

Text

Attention

Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader

sum- You’re annoyed with the lack of attention, your boyfriend, billy has given you after an absolutely amazing night. You do everything in you power to provoke him and lord have mercy, does it work, a little too well.

CW- dom!billy, cussing, name calling, ass slapping, pinv, sex, Smut, mention of drug use, mention of alcohol, oral male recovering, noncon-con, dub-con, 18+ minors dni, nicknames, kinfe kink if you squint.

Thank you so much for this request

THIS IS AN NSFW WRITING MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Billy had taken you into his bedroom to show you his new digs. He’d finally moved outta his parents and into his own huge mobile home with Max to keep her safe. The moment Max spent the night with el, billy swept you away from school.

On his new bed was where he fucked you for a straight 4 hours. He fucked you with his fingers, he fucked you with his tongue, he fucked you with his cock. He drew six orgasams from you until you were pleading for mercy, overly sensitive with tears running down your face, and hair messed up. Your body deliciously bruised.

The only thing he wanted to do was show you how good you’ve been to him the past 9 months you’ve been together. But that was 2 weeks ago. You haven’t seen or talked to Billy in 3 days and he’s been distant for the rest. You’ve asked Max about him and she always says he’s busy.

You knew that there were many ways to get your boyfriend's attention. Sending him lewd pics, showing up at his place, or telling him where you’d be for the night and he would always show up and act like he was “just passing through.”

But one way that would absolutely get you in trouble was the way you were going to be at the party. Cheyenne Gibson hosting a senior school party and being best friends with her gave you a front row seat to see the invitation list. Many of the horny jocks of the swim, and football team were going to be there and of course so was billy.

You walk down the stairs of your house wearing a tiny, tight, black dress and matching heels. Your hair is up in a ponytail and you’ve straightened your hair. You’re phone dings looking at seeing a text from billy asking if your going to Cheyenne’s party and if you need a ride.

Rolling your eyes you close your phone and leave your house.

Walking into the party you already see drunk girls dancing up on other girls' boyfriends and people doing lines off bitches ass’s.

“Y/n!!” Chyenne squeals hugging you.

“Hey! Ohh you look so good.” You smile.

“No bitch you look hot as fuck did billy let you leave like that?” She asks

“He doesn't know and I don't care.” You laugh as she does as well and hands you a solo cup absolutely full of spiked punch. Your first drink of the night but certainly not your last.

Since you’d turned your phone off you couldn’t know that Billy had been calling for over 2 hours.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Chyenne catches you on the dance floor.

“Someone special just arrived.” She giggles over the loud music. Looking over at the place she gestures you see Billy walking through the crowd as some other guys greet him.

You smile at her and nod she shimmies off and you walk to the bathroom down the hall and around the corner seeing a line, you don't actually need to go, you just know that other guys hang around waiting to talk to girls who are waiting.

“Hey.” A voice says you turn to see Jake, captain of the football team.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask

“Chill.” He says handing you a blunt you take it and inhale the smoke before handing it back to him blowing out the smoke in perfect O rings. He chuckles at your talent.

“You alone tonight?” He asks you to nod.

“Good you gotta go or you just hanging around?” He asks you shake your head

“Just standing here…wanna dance?” You ask if he looks you up and down and nods, taking your hands leading you back out.

Dancing with your back against his chest your ass rubs against his crotch giving him the most obvious boner his hands are all over your body and face in your neck inhaling your strawberry and cream scent as you let your hair down.

Another guy comes and joins and you gladly dance with him pretty soon you're surrounded by people touching up on you and dancing, smoking and drinking. Through the vibration and lights you see Billy across the room spotting his face immediately drop in anger, his eyes dark as he lights a cigarette watching you.

You smirk and purposely bend forward the guy behind you gripping your hips grinding against your ass, your small dress riding up. You stand again wrapping your arms around the boys watching as billy boils.

You turn away from Billy facing the other guys. But before you know it another set of hands are gripped tightly around your hips.

“Miss me that much hmm?” Billy’s voice hits your ears, you giggle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Fucking slut.” He growls his hand wrapping around your throat. Making you gasp.

“I've been calling you…you ignoring me?” He ask.

You pull back from him,

“you’re one to talk bill.” You turn away to walk off but he grabs you putting you over his shoulder and walks outta the party. He walks to his car opening the door and puts you in the seat then shuts the door walking around the side getting into his driver's seat.

“You asshole my car is here!” You exclaim.

“Sit the fuck down!” He barks at you and you sit back in the seat crossing your arms. He screeches off at his place.

He gets out of the car and you do as well but he picks you up again over his shoulder.

“I can fucking walk billy!” You whine.

“Shut up!” He slaps your ass making you squeal. He opens the door.

You see max, will, and el all playing a board game sitting on the floor.

“Hey y/n!” She exclaims, always happy to see you. You move your hair out of your face and smile.

“Hey!” You smile

“You alright?” She asks as Billy walks past them, still over his shoulder.

“We’ll see.” You giggle as Billy takes you out of her sight down the hall to his room, shutting the door and putting you on the bed.

“Nice to see you too.” You huff taking your heels off.

“What?! Why are you so fucking desperate today huh?” Billy yells at you as you sit on his bed, your legs crossed, you don't make eye contact with him.

“You’ve been throwing yourself out at everyone except me, your fucking boyfriend, tits out, ass flashing, your cunt is out for the world your not wearing a dress youre wearing a fucking napkin and a shoe string to cover your fucking clit for fucksake.” He says angrily

“You left me alone after! For 2 fucking weeks I haven’t seen you in three da-“ billy grabs your face.

“Take that language with me and see what happens.” He says. You look up at him.

“B-Billy..” you say, your big eyes shining. A growl rumbles in his throat.

“I know what’s wrong hmm..i fucking know princess.” He says pushing his hair back letting go of you before unclasping his belt. You shift in your seat now sitting on your heels, your legs tucked under you.

“This what you want hmm?” He says unbuttoning his pants just enough. The patch of matching colored hair on his groin is exposed as he pulls his pants and boxer front down enough to expose his cock that you've had in you so many times.

“Was it not enough last time hm, not enough that I fucked you for 4 hours, gave you 6 orgasams huh?” He says stroking his already hardened cock from your trickery earlier. You don't say anything and look down.

“No, you fucking slut, look at me.” He grabs you by your chin standing above you.

“Mm.” You whine biting your lip.

“Since your gonna act like a sleeve ill fuck you like one huh?! HUH!” He snaps at you. Your eyes look up at such a beautiful sight you are so close to his dick that your breath makes him twitch.

“Open your mouth.” He says you obey by sticking your tongue out. Slapping his heavy tip on top of it strings of saliva follow before you close your lips around him and take him. He hisses at the movement.

“Put your arms behind your back.” He says you listen, grabbing your wrist.

“Suck.” He orders you once again to obey and do so, sucking him off by bobbing your head.

He groans watching you take him in your mouth.

“I don’t know if i made myself clear before hand about how to get attention, they surely wasn’t fucking it” he says.

“Mmm.” You reply.

He nods and grabs your head pushes his dick down your throat making your moan the vibration causing him to twitch.

He continues to drool on your face, spilling from your mouth. The lewd sounds of sloshing and light gagging he pulls out you lean over inhaling the much needed oxygen wiping your mouth before you can look back up at him he pushes you back against the bed. The click of a switchblade and the shine of a blade close to your skin as he tears the dress from your body and removes your thong. Removing his pants and shirt he pulls his belt from the pants and makes cuffs attaching your wrists to them and hooking it to the post of his bed.

He pushes your legs apart and without hesitation enters you. No foreplay, for prep.

“Ah-!” You scream out he fucks you already over-stimulating you.

“You liked rubbing up on those guys hm?” He asks, gripping your breast in hand.

His mother comes up lightly, slapping your cheek.

“Answer me.” He huffs.

“Y-yes.” You answer he grips your neck shoving himself lathe way in making you clench around him letting out a loud moan.

“Fuckin look me!” He yells that you look up to him over you.

You see his expression on his face anger but mostly hurt. His dark eyes are glazed over. You thought making billy jealousy would be fun but now it just hurts you too see him like this only wanting you to show you something to teach you a lesson.

You lunge forward your lips connecting with his. If he were actually punishing you he’d pull away but no this time he kisses you back with passion. His tongue pushes its ways into your mouth making you moan.

You pull back as he kisses down your neck removing his hand.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry billy!” You say choking back your tears as he brushes your body with nips and sucks.

He pulls his lips back and reaches up, removing your hands from the cuffs. Your arms immediately wrap around him pushing him off you so you're on top. You sink back into him riding him. Groans leave his throat as his hands grips your waist.

“Fuck-“ he curses and your grind against him.

You just wanted his attention, his love. You wanted him to notice you as if you were back in freshman year seeing him walk around.

Hr thrusts up into you moans and breathes leave your body. His thumb circles your clit making your clench around him, your nails clawing at his chest. The over whelming situation of him fucking your tightens the knot in your stomach.

“B—billy fuck..please” you moan out.

“You gonna cum baby?! Hm” he asks you to nod breathlessly.

He pushes you off him and turns you around your back facing him. You wiggle your ass making him chuckle as he smacks his hand down on your cheek before squeezing and soothing the mark with a kiss.

“Arch baby.” He instructs you to listen , arching slightly; he rubs his tip against your strip before entering you again, the new angle making you tight as ever.

He sucks in a breath gripping your ass.

“Shit- those fucker you were dancing with wish they had your little pussy around thier dicks.” He chuckles as he thrusts into you. Your arms hug the pillow to your face as it muffles your moans.

"Such a good girl," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. Clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. Another slap coming down on your ass each making you gasp into the pillow.

Billy grabs your hair pulling you up into him.

“You're mine. You got that. Fucking mine. In every way.” He says roughly thrusting up into you.

“Y-yes s-sir.” You manage out before clamping down around his cock cumming hard. Your eyes rolling back as he reaches down rubbing your clit making you squirm in his grasp.

He lets you go and with a few more sloppy thrusts Billy is cumming deep into you. You feel him twitching growing as he cums.

You pant putting your hand on your stomach feeling the budget of your boyfriends dick still settling in you. It's gone as he pulls out leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulders as he gets up disappearing in the bathroom he’s got in his room for a minute before coming back grabbing a shirt from his drawer he pulls on his boxers and walks back over to you.

He runs the cold damp cloth along your body cleaning you off before chucking it into the clothes hamper.

“Come here baby.” He says pulling you up into his arms as you sit up.

“Let me see.” He says looking at your top oversees the hickies scattered along your body as well as the prominent mark around your neck.

“I'm sorry honey.” He says kissing your neck lightly. You shake your head, not placing your hands on his face, pressing your lips softly against him.

“Don't be.” You smile. He puts the shirt over over body pulling the covers back as you get in under.

“Stay here for the night okay.” He says you nod holding your arms out to him he joins up as you cuddle up next to him.

(Hello to my amazing readers im officially open fro requests, smut, angst, fluff, almost everything your heart could wish for, shoot me a dm or an anonymous message and I’ll be back to you!!!!)

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargove imagine #billyhargrovexreader #billy Hargrove x reader smut #billy Hargrove x reader #stranger things smut #billy smut

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harryyskiwii · 11 months

Text

Summary: Flight Attendant Y/N meets Captain Harry Styles for the first time and they join the mile high club, sort of.

Pairing: Reader y/n X Captain Harry

Word count: 4,207

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been on holiday the last week and that is what inspired me to write this 🥰As always, please feel free to request anything! Hope you enjoy!

One of the things you enjoyed most about being a flight attendant was the thrill of being able to visit new places, if only for a brief period of time.

You had worked for British Airways for 3 years now and soon you would be hoping to step up to Team Leader where you could help train and look after new flight attendants.

You usually only did short-haul flights out of your base which was London Heathrow and flew across Europe; the longest flight being 6 hours. Short hail suited you, you typically flew to 3 or 4 places within a day and by 1 am, you were back in your bed. That’s if all went to plan. For today’s first flight, you were heading to Dusseldorf in Germany, somewhere you regularly flew to.

You parked your car in the staff area of the airport, changed out of your trainers and into your small black court shoes as driving in heels was never comfortable.

You pulled out your small case from the boot of your car which contained a spare uniform because you won’t be caught out again; on a previous flight a passenger spilt their red wine all over you one time and you had no spare shirt to change into, your water, your lunch because aeroplane food was awful and some spare makeup to top up with in between flights.

You smoothed out your navy pencil skirt, so old fashioned you thought, and tied the red, white and blue scarf around your neck ready to enter the airport.

You headed straight for security and through the fast track lane since you were crew. Once past, you headed to the staff area to check which gate you had to go through to get to the aircraft.

Approaching gate 7, you showed the staff your pass and they nodded and let you go.

You headed towards the aircraft, where you saw the First Officer; Andy doing the pre-flight walk-around. You had flown with Andy for the best part of a year and you knew him well. He got into flying after he fancied a change in career from being in the police. You always liked Andy, he was a father to 2 girls who he adored and always made the typical dad jokes which meant it was normally a good flight with him

“Alright wee one, nice to see you” he smiled at you. “Hey, how are you?” You smiled back at him.

“I’m good, ready for 12 hours of pure joy?” He joked and you laughed. “Always” you replied.

“Who’s the Captain today?” You asked, always fearing if it would be one of the older, slightly rude Captains or one more relaxed and friendly.

“New guy, Styles his name is. Seems like a good bloke, think Daniel already has the hots for him” he winked and you laughed.

You relaxed at the mention of Daniel who you had become best friends with after you had both started the job on the same day. You loved working with him as he always seemed to make the flight go in faster.

“Hey! Am I glad to see you today” you said once inside the aircraft.

“Hey!!” He said hugging you “I’ve not been with you on a flight for ages, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do!” he said excitedly. You laughed as he always saw working with you as gossip sessions rather than working.

You headed towards the front portion of the plane where the crew placed their bags and got ready for the flight. You glanced in at the cockpit where you saw the Captain sitting doing the necessary paperwork before departure. Although you could only see the back of him you could tell he was wearing his black double-breasted black jacket with the 4 gold stripes on both the epaulettes and the sleeve of his jacket; showing his ranking as Captain.

He had short, dark brown hair which you could tell had been meticulously styled that morning as not a hair was out of place. You had never worked with this captain before, so you weren’t sure what to expect from him; some captains could be so far up their own, you weren’t allowed to speak to them unless spoken so you kept quiet and put your things away and headed back out to the main cabin to find 2 more girls who you didn’t recognise arriving onto the plane.

“Hi, I’m Emma, Team Leader for today. Nice to meet you” the tall blonde girl who was wearing a minimal amount of makeup but still managed to look flawless said to you.

“Hi nice to meet you, I’m y/n” “Lovely name, I’ll go sit my bag down and we can start the briefing” she smiled.

You noticed the other girl who had since boarded, she looked a little more reserved so you decided to introduce yourself.

“Hi I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you” You smiled at her to help relax her. She looked young and a little unsure, she was maybe 18 or 19 years old so you assumed she hasn’t long qualified as cabin crew. You remember how nervous you were for your first few flights so you decided you wanted to look out for her during the day

“Hey, I’m Holly” she said. “Not long qualified?” You asked kindly.

“This is my 2nd flight” she said and you smiled.

“Don’t worry I remember my first couple of flights, it’s nerve-wracking but you’ll soon get the hang of it. There’s no better way to learn than doing it so if there’s anything you need a hand with today, just let me know. I’m always happy to help” you smiled.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your things” You smiled and led her towards the cockpit.

“So you can grab anything you need out of your bag and put it in the fridge if you’ve got a sandwich or anything like that, otherwise you can pop it in here and lock it, we all put our bags in one locker together

“Ahh, I thought I heard some voices. I was just coming to do the briefing” you heard the captain say from behind the cockpit door. You stood up straight and smiled at him coming out.

His eyes fell onto you first and he smiled “Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you” You shook his hand that he had extended for you and took in his beauty. He looked young, maybe 29 or 20. He had green eyes and fair skin which had a slight tan to it, making the dimple on the left side of his face more prominent.

“Y/N, lovely to meet you, Mr Styles”

“Please, call me Harry” he told you and you smiled at how genuine he seemed. Most captains would only allow you to refer to them as Captain and their last name so it was nice to have one who was more relaxed.

“This is our newbie Holly, this is her 2nd ever flight today” you smiled as you introduced the new recruit to him.

“Holly, nice to meet you. I’m Harry, hope you’re settling in well?” He asked kindly as he shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Styles, yes settling in very well thank you” she sheepishly replied. It always was a bit intimidating to speak with a captain, especially ones you didn’t know much about.

“Call me Harry please” he smiled. “Shall we move to the cabin and start the brief?” He asked and you nodded, moving to the front part of where the passenger seats were located.

By this point, everyone was now in the cabin waiting to start the briefing. The captain introduced himself to the remaining crew members before you all took seats at the front of the plane.

“So my name is Emma I’m one of the British Airways Team Leaders and I’ll be working as number 1 for this shift. Today we’ve got Captain Harry Styles and First Officer Andrew Simmons on the flight deck. For cabin crew today we’ve got Daniel, Holly and y/n, I think we’ve already met each other by now yes?” Emma asked as she pointed to everyone during the introductions.

“Great, it’s a Boeing 777 we’re on today, I’ll let Captain Styles and First Officer Andy talk more about that in a bit. There are a total of 6 flights today; Heathrow to Düsseldorf, Düsseldorf to Heathrow, Heathrow to Las Palmas, Las Palmas to Heathrow and then Heathrow to Venice and Venice back to Heathrow. Full flights on all destinations so we need to be on top of our game in the cabin, Daniel can I ask you to be number 2 today? Holly, do you mind being 3 today and y/n as number 4?”

Number 1 meant you were looking after the passengers in the front of the plane, number 2 was in the middle of the plane, number 3 was in the back section of the plane and number 4 was an additional person who helped the rest of the team, including the flight crew.

You nodded in agreement, secretly glad you were given the position of helping to look after the captain and the FO.

“Captain Styles, do you want to run through your information?” She asked and he straightened up in his chair.

“Yeah sure I’ll just introduce myself a little more since I’m a new face to a lot of people. I’m Harry I’ve been a Captain now for 5 years having previously worked for Ryanair before moving here 3 weeks ago. Please call me Harry because Captain sounds old and although I’ve recently hit my 30s, I’m not quite there yet” This gained a few laughs from the crew, including yourself.

So he was attractive and funny? The more he spoke the more you found yourself more and more drawn to him. He was charming. But not in a cocky way, he seemed genuine and the fact he was a Pilot told you he was smart. Very smart. You always did have a thing for intelligence.

“We’ll be cruising around 30,000 feet once up in the air, weather looks good, clear skies with a 30% chance of light showers. The weather in Düsseldorf is 23 degrees which doesn’t concern us as we’ll have a 20-minute turnover before boarding to come back to the UK unfortunately, bet you wish you’d chosen long haul now Holly?” Harry joked at the fact that although travelling throughout Europe, you hardly ever got to even leave the plane.

You all laughed and Holly agreed. Harry continued with the briefing, telling you about the time durations, and quizzing everyone on emergencies, something which was legally required to ensure all crew knew what to do in the event of one.

“Thanks everyone, I think we can start boarding now” Harry smiled and Emma nodded, knowing to start the boarding procedure.

“Y/N can you help Holly if she needs a hand opening the rear door?” Emma asked and you nodded.

You headed towards the rear of the cabin with Holly behind you.

Once everything was set for boarding, you headed towards the middle of the cabin to help passengers find their seats and help with any luggage they had.

Luckily, boarding took 20 minutes and before you knew it, you were doing the safety demonstration for the passengers while the plane reversed out of the airport and to the runway. You could hear Andy’s voice informing the passengers of the information Harry had relayed to you earlier about the weather etc to keep them up to date.

With the safety demonstration over and having checked everyone had their seatbelts on, Emma nodded to you to signal that you could sit down and prepare for the take-off.

“Cabin crew take seats and prepare for take-off” you heard Captain Styles say and you smiled a little at the sound of his voice.

You sat down at the rear of the plane next to Holly and fastened your seatbelt.

“I’ve done hundreds of flights and I never get bored of the take-off or landing” you said to her quietly as you could feel the plane taxing down the runway.

“I’ve done a handful and still get nervous” she said and you squeezed her hand a little to let her know it was okay to be nervous.

He must have gone from 50mph to about 170mph in less than 30 seconds because before you knew it, you were being hauled into the air with such speed that you swear your heart fell out of your arse. A “fuck” could be heard under Holly’s breath and you laughed.

That was a sure sign of a good takeoff. For a plane to take off at such speed it requires a good sustained acceleration which was exactly what Harry did.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent and good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground? Was there anything this Pilot wasn’t good at?

As the plane climbed into the air, Andy’s voice could be heard over the intercom “Ladies and Gentleman please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the captain has switched off the seatbelt sign. Thank you”

A common command that was often used for eager passengers who would immediately take their seatbelts off as the plane took off the ground.

10 minutes in, the seatbelt sign was switched off and people started to immediately stand up to use the toilets, it always looked like the hunger games you thought.

Because the duration of the flight was only 1 hour and 25 minutes, only the drinks and snack service were required so you and Holly started with that as one of your first tasks, hoping to keep the passengers settled.

Halfway through the service, the alarm which alerted cabin crew to the cockpit was rung and so as the number 4, you left the drinks cart and headed to the cockpit.

You straightened out your skirt and pushed back a few loose strands of hair before knocking and going in.

“Everything alright?” You asked politely squeezing through the small door and inside the cockpit.

“I’m just gonna nip to the loo” Andy said and you nodded, understanding. It was policy that the cockpit operated a “2-person flight deck” which meant 2 people had to be in the cockpit every second the aeroplane was in use.

Andy exited and headed for the toilet.

“Come and sit down” Harry said to you as he glanced over at the seat Andy had been sat in. You moved and sat down in the First Officer’s chair.

“How’s everything out there?” He asked looking over at you. The plane was now set on autopilot meaning it no longer required the captains' manual control, rather a system was being used to control the path of an aircraft.

“Yeah everything’s good, no difficult passengers yet, although what are the chances I’ve jinxed it now” you laugh.

“For the next 5 flights, we’ll have the worst passengers in the history of aviation” he joked and you laughed at his quick white

God, he looked so good sitting there. He had taken off his jacket which revealed a clean crisp white shirt, still showing the 4 gold stripes on his shoulder, but the shirt revealed tattoos. Tattoos which made you feel there was a lot about the Pilot you wanted to find out about.

“Great takeoff by the way” you remarked to him and he smiled lightly.

“Thanks, I’d practised take-off loads in flight school and then just lots of experience I suppose”

The way he spoke was so gentle but also with such passion for his career in his voice.

“What about you, how long have you been in the air for?”

“I’ve been cabin crew for 3 years now, I love it. I was saying to Holly earlier that no matter how many times I fly, I still get the same buzz each time we take off and land”

You watched as his lips turned upwards into a smirk “You’ve not experienced my landing yet, wait until you do”

You laughed at the comment and right on time, Andy came back.

“Fancy swapping jobs for the day?” He joked when he saw you in his chair. You laughed and got up “No thank you, I’d rather not be responsible for 130 passengers” you said and they laughed.

“You guys need anything before I head back out?” You asked them both.

“Could I get a tea if possible please y/n?” Harry asked you politely.

“Of course, how do you take it?”

“Milk and 2 sugars” he told you and you took a mental note of it.

“Nothing for me thanks y/n” Andy said.

You headed back to the cabin, being stopped multiple times by passengers to ask for certain things before making this Captain his tea.

You knocked on the cockpit door and went in.

“Here’s your tea for you” you said handing it to Harry. He smiled and took it off you “Thanks” You headed back to get a Karen in row 21 the G&T she had previously asked for .

“Y/n!” You heard your name being called by the captain from behind the door of the cockpit you had just been in.

You sighed a little, sensing something was wrong and headed back in.

“That’s the best cup of tea anyone has ever made me” he remarked as he smiled at you.

You laughed slightly “I’ll add tea-making skills to my CV then”

“Honestly it’s perfect, I might have to request you on every one of my flights so you can make me the perfect cuppa”

“Right you two, enough with the flirting. Styles we’ve got 25 minutes until landing” Andy jumped in and you and Harry both laughed.

Andy winked at you and you continued with the rest of your tasks.

You arrived in Düsseldorf, with a very smooth landing from Captain Styles at 7:20 am with the next flight at 8 am, giving you a 20-minute turnaround time to get things ready for the next lot of passengers boarding. It was a quick turnaround and before you knew it, you were taking off from Düsseldorf back to London

Landing back at Heathrow at 9:30 am, the next flight was at 10:15 and already there was an issue.

A nervous passenger was starting to feel unwell and wasn’t sure if she would be able to fly to Las Palmas. You and Emma were trying to convince her that the 4-hour and 30-minute trip would be completely safe and she had nothing to worry about.

“I can’t, I can’t fly. What if the plane crashes or falls into the sea? I can’t swim, I will drown and die. I can’t” the passenger who looked no more than 25 said.

“I completely understand your nerves, I can assure you that aeroplanes these days are made to be very very safe and the chances of anything happening are so very slim” you tried to reason with her.

Meanwhile, Emma had instructed Daniel to tell the flight deck what the delay was.

“Hi, I heard we’ve got a nervous flyer?” You heard the same voice who had complimented your tea-making skills say from behind you. The woman nodded.

You looked up to see Harry standing in the cabin, looking to speak with the passenger.

You stepped back and let him crouch down beside her in her seat.

“I’m Harry, I’m the Captain who’ll be taking you over to Palma today. Can I ask your name?” He asked kindly to the passenger.

“It’s Rebecca” she said.

“Okay Rebecca, it’s nice to meet you. So Daniel explained to me that you’re quite nervous when flying?”

“Yeah, I worry the plane will crash or fall into the water”

“Okay I can see why those are concerns, the risk of a crash or the plane failing and falling into the sea is 1 in 11 million. The aircraft is completely safe and in all my years of flying, I’ve never had an emergency on board, well actually I forgot my coffee once which was a real emergency. I’m a real grump without my coffee” he joked and the passenger laughed, as did you at the comment.

“The team are all here to look after you during the flight and if you need anything at all, you can press this button above your head for assistance and they’ll be right over to help you. Does that put your mind at ease a little bit?” He asked still crouched down beside her.

“It does thank you yes captain” Rebecca smiled.

“Good, we’ll be taking off in around 10 minutes so sit back, relax and try and enjoy the flight as much as you can” He smiled and renters back into the cockpit to being the takeoff procedure.

During the flight, the nervous passenger fell asleep halfway through and only woke up when the plane was safely on the ground. Harry came to check on her as she was disembarking and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness in calming her down.

“It’s no trouble at all, you have a good holiday now” he told her as she left the aircraft.

So he was attractive, funny, intelligent, good at lifting 150-ton planes off the ground and great at calming people down. If you hadn’t already fallen in love with this man, by the next 3 flights, you definitely will have.

Thankfully, the following 3 flights were uneventful, except for the drunken guy who had spilt his crisps all over another passenger which you had to clean up.

The last flight from Venice back to base at Heathrow was welcomed. Your feet were sore, your makeup had half melted off and you couldn’t wait to get your hair out of the uncomfortable bun you were required to wear all day.

After seeing all the passengers off the plane, you started to clear up.

“What a day, thanks for all your help guys” Harry shouted down the cabin as he locked it up for the night.

“No problem Captain Styles, hope to be working with you again soon” Emma said to him.

“Likewise, you guys head off I’m just going to do a walk around” you heard him say.

“Are you sure?” Emma said. “Yeah sure, thanks again everyone” he said once more.

You, Holly, Emma and Daniel started to get ready to leave when you felt Harry’s arm touch yours slightly.

“You stay” you heard him whisper into your ear subtly as you passed him to get your bag.

You blushed and swallowed hard “You guys go, I need the loo” you said to the rest of them.

“Go in the airport” Daniel said and you hinted at him to go.

“Weak bladder, you go I’ll see you soon” you smiled at them.

“Text me later!” Daniel said and you smiled as they left the aircraft.

“Weak bladder eh?” The captain raised an eyebrow at you when everyone was out of sight.

You laughed “I couldn’t think of anything else”

He laughed and smirked at you “I couldn’t help but think about you today. That shitty landing in Venice was your fault, I couldn’t think of anything else”

“I’ll just add ‘distraction to pilot’ on my CV as well then shall I?” You joked.

“You’re such a distraction to the pilot,” he said quietly as he leaned in closer to you.

He cups your face in his hands and he leans in and slowly kisses you. The kiss soon starts to grow more intense as moans echo through the cabin.

He’s started to groan in your ear and kiss your neck up and down.

He pushes you down into a seat in the front row by your hips and he kneels down in front of you.

His hands go up underneath your skirt and start to pull on your tights to reveal your bare legs.

"Harry we can’t do this here." You say completely out of breath already.

“You’re right, the toilet is better. Does this count as joining the mile high club even if we’re not in the air?” He smirked as he led you, barefoot to the bathroom.

For the next 10 minutes, you and Harry enjoyed each other’s company in the toilet as he moved his hips slowly inside of you, each thrust getting faster and faster.

You felt like you might collapse soon and he knew it too so he decided to stop just before you orgasmed and let you out of the toilet.

You sat down in the front row, completely out of breath, a little disheartened he’d pulled out before you orgasmed.

He appeared from the toilet, zipping up his trousers and putting his belt back on.

“Let’s finish at my house” he said and you happily obliged. It was fair to say that night you never got any sleep, despite how tired you had been after your shift.

Thanks to Harry giving you the most amazing sex you’d ever had, you had never been more grateful to be an Air Hostess as you had been that day for meeting your now boyfriend, Captain Harry Styles.

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fandom #harry styles concept #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x reader #harrystylesoneshot #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fanfiction #Pilot!harry #PilotHarry #CaptainHarry #flight attendant #harry styles one shot #hslot werchter #love on tour #hslot 2023 #harrystyles #harry fanfic

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peachbottom · 5 months

Text

Period.

Authors Note: Hi sorry I haven’t posted in months, but I have this that has been sitting in my notes for ever so here you go. Please leave feedback sorry if you hate it

Summary: When you unexpectedly get your period in the middle of a special moment, don’t worry Bucky makes its all feel better don’t be embarrassed. <3

Warnings: Potential maybe allusions to smut but no actual smut, non sexual nudity, periods, fluff, bad grammar, not edited

——————————————————————————All day you had been looking forward to going home, taking a shower and spending time with bucky. Your back hurt, you were tired and just overall feeling down. Thankfully it was Friday and all the worries of the week will wash away with the weekend.

Bucky was supposed to get home half an hour after you, he was out with Steve and Sam for the day and you couldn’t wait till he got home. When you walked into your shared apartment you dropped your stuff and went straight to the bathroom. You started a nice hot shower, put on some relaxing music and did all the steps you’re usually too lazy to do in the shower.

You must have been really into it because you didn’t hear the front door open or even the bathroom door. You did hear the shower door open though, to reveal a very pretty, very happy Bucky. He was standing holding his shirt in his hand, buckle undone and barefoot, ready to join you if you’d have him.

“Oh Jesus bucky you scared me”

“It’s hard to hear over the shower and music. Mind if I join you baby?”

“Yeah sure” you say while trying to maintain warmth under the water while the draft of cold air blows in from the open shower door bucky stands at.

He drops his shirt then pulls down his jeans and boxers in one motion. He steps out of them and soon enough he’s right next to you holding you close. He leans down to kiss the spot on your neck that he knows makes you giggle every time. True love is about knowing someone inside and out, and Bucky makes it a point to know you in all the ways.

After a little romantic and steamy shower where you washed each other and got a little excited, you and Bucky decided to move the moment to the bedroom. You wrapped up in a towel and moved to sit on the bed, bucky climbing on top of you with a towel slung low on his hips.

“You are so pretty, baby I can’t believe I get all this” he says as he plants kisses one by one down your body. You just feel an overwhelming need to kiss him, to show your love for him. So you reach down and lace your fingers through his hair and pull lightly on his roots.

He looks up at you, forgetting his prior mission of covering your body in kisses. You stick out your lips in a pouty kissy face so he understands what you want.

“Oh honey you want kisses? I can do that.” He leans down to lay next to you and pulls you on top of him. As he pulls you up to kiss you, you let out a small uncomfortable groan but he doesn’t let it go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong, are you okay?” He’s quick to address the situation and try to find the problem. He holds you gently and looks at you as if he’s waiting for you to tell him the most important thing in the world.

“My stomach just hurts, I’m okay it’s been like this all day. Just shush and kiss me already.” And if James Barnes is good at one thing it’s following directions, so kiss you he does. It’s passionate and slow, sweet but firm. It’s perfect and comfortable and it helps melt away all the bad of the day.

As you continue to kiss him you feel desire burning in your lower body, you feel wetness forming between your legs and you can’t wait for what comes next.

You feel Bucky’s hands wander lower towards your towel. He undoes the knot you have holding it up, letting it come loose around your body and allowing him access to your chest. He presses his hands in between your bodies to gently toy with your nipples and encourage the soft breathy sounds from your mouth.

You slowly grind your hips down into Buckys, feeling his hard length through the towel. He lets out a soft moan when you grind down harder, continuing to play with your breasts he makes a noise to roll you over again.

He slips his left arm around your back holding you close as he drives up with his hips and flips you over so he’s on top. He plants one last kiss on your lips and nips at your lower lip before making his way down your body again.

“Doll I love you so much, you are everything to me.” Bucky had a big smile on his face ready so feast in between your legs like a starved man. As he moved down your body he removes your towel and grabs your thighs to make room for himself between them. As he parts your legs his smile falters.

“Oh, um”

Immediately you spring up from your laying position to see what was wrong. Red, it was all red. The inside of your thighs were covered in blood along with the towel and other things.

“I think you got your period baby, do you want to get back in the shower and we-“

You don’t even listen to what he has to say, you are so mortified you jump up and run off into the bathroom. Nothing he could say or do would make you feel any less embarrassed that his face was inches from your blood covered body.

You lock yourself in the bathroom making sure Bucky wasn’t coming in. That’s when you let out a silent tear, you feel the oncoming tears and try to hold them back. Thinking quickly you turn on the shower to drown out the sobs of embarrassment. You knew something was wrong today but you never even thought to consider this as the reason.

Gently stepping into the shower you wipe your tears and try to tuck away the mortification, it’s not helpful but at least you stop crying. You start to wash the insides of your thighs and your center. Just then you hear a knock on the door, loud but not aggressive.

“Honey, babydoll please let me in. I need to know you’re okay.” Buckys voice is still heard over the sound of the water and through the door.

“I’m fine.” You say back, voice cracking through the tears threatening to spill. If it wasn’t for his super solider hearing he probably wouldn’t have heard you. Then you hear him let out a soft sign and an “okay” before he retreats away from the door.

The fact that he would walk away to fast without trying harder makes you kinda sad. Maybe he doesn’t care that much or maybe you really grossed him out. But another part of you is happy he walked away so you can clean in peace.

Once you finish cleaning yourself you step out of the shower, look for a tampon, thankfully you have some, then wrap yourself up ready to face bucky. You wish you could lock yourself in the bathroom forever but unfortunately you have to face the embarrassment at some point

Opening the door you walk into the bedroom to see candles lit, the tv playing a movie, your heating pad plugged in and some comfortable pajamas folded neatly at the edge of the bed. As you take a second to take it all in a smile comes to your face as you think about bucky doing this for you. Just then bucky comes back from in the kitchen with a hot mug of tea in his hand. He slips right past you into the room to place the mug on your bedside table.

“Bucky” you whisper through a cracking voice as tears threaten to break through again. He’s quietly turns around and walks up to you with outstretched arms. His one arm goes around your lower back and the other cradles your head into his chest.

“It’s all okay, why don’t we get you comfortable and we can watch a movie. No pressure for anything else, okay?”

You nod and look up at bucky, still tears brimming your eyes. He uses both thumbs to swipe gently under your eyes and places a soft kiss to your lips.

He leads you over to the edge of the bed telling you to sit down next to the folded clothes. Gently he reaches out to where you are still holding your towel, “Can I, sweetheart?” You shyly let him remove your towel, still crawling with embarrassment from earlier.

The towel falls around you as you look down at your lap avoiding eye contact. “Baby please look at me, I want to see your pretty face. Come on gorgeous let me see your eyes.” You slowly lift your gaze to meet his eyes, “Thats my girl, good girl baby” he softly strokes your hair from your face while praising you for simply looking at him.

“I know your being really brave and vulnerable with me right now and I know what’s hard for you but your doing so well baby, so good for letting me help you and take care of you.” His words make your heart skip a beat, he makes you feel so seen and understood.

As he reaches for your pajamas he keeps one hand on your thigh, softly stroking the skin. He grabs a pair of comfortable underwear from the top of the stack, letting it unfold before he grips your thigh right above the knee and picks your leg up, sliding his hand down to your calf putting your foot through one hole. He places your leg down and does it again to your other leg, sliding the underwear up your body.

“Lift up for me sweetheart” he speaks softly into your ear as he supports your body and pulls the underwear past your butt. He eases you down to the mattress before grabbing one of his tshirts to pull over your head. You both laugh a little as he pulls your head through the hole and fixes your hair from how messy the shirt made it.

He hooks his arms under yours and lifts you into his chest, moving one arm to support under your butt. He moves the towel off the bed and pulls down the blankets with the other. Crawling into bed with you still wrapped around him, he makes sure you’re nice and comfy before pulling the blankets up around you.

He holds you close and kisses your forehead without saying anything, just watching the movie. “I’m sorry, I should have known better that was really gross and I’m sorry” you say softly, it’s all you could think about you had to say something.

He pulls back looking at you, he seems almost hurt. “Oh baby, no. Don’t ever, ever feel bad about anything like that. It’s natural and your body is healthy and that’s what matters baby. It’s not gross and I’m not upset, I just want to make sure you are okay, okay? It’s all fine, no need to be upset or embarrassed.” You want to cry again and he can see it. “Oh no don’t cry please don’t cry I don’t want you upset.” He kisses your nose and all over your face while running his hand up and down your side squeezing at your hip.

“You’re just so perfect, and i can’t thank you enough for being so kind and gentle with me. I’m so sorry for ruining your night!” You cry into his arms and he holds you like it’s all okay.

“Nothing is ruined it’s all okay, I’m here with the you. Yeah maybe I’m disappointed we aren’t going to have sex but I’m not upset because I know you aren’t comfortable. Do you understand I’m not upset, I’m not angry or grossed out by you. I still think you are gorgeous and amazing even if you are crying all over me.”

You pull away from him a little bit to laugh, you really cried all over him. He rubs your back some more and lets you breathe for a minute. You can’t help but feel bad about ruining the mood, he was ready to go and you just ran away.

“Is it really okay? We can just watch a movie and cuddle and you won’t be mad?” You ask while rubbing away tears.

“Of course baby, let’s watch our movie while I hold you. Do you need anything, pain medicine or something? Oh I got you tea, here you go” He leans over and grabs the tea from the bedside table and helps you sit up, slowly handing you the mug.

“Oh thank you” you carefully take the mug and take a little baby sip, delicious.

Bucky rubs your back and rest his head on your shoulder while adjusting ur heating pad in your lower stomach. He asks calmly if it was in a good spot and then continues to rub up and down your body.

You place your now empty tea cup on the bedside table and then roll into Bucky even more. “Thank you, I feel so much better now” he kisses the top of your head in response.

“Go to sleep honey I’ll be here when you wake up, I love you so much”

——————————————————————————

Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky comfort #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #tw periods #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic

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norman-fucking-reedus · 4 months

Text

GROWN UPS 💋 (18+)

summary: “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair”

era: pre-negan alexandria

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

slightly submissive daryl x female reader (the juicy shit: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, biting, choking, hair pulling, pet names (Darling, sugar, allthat), cunnalings, cumming untouched)

Disclaimer(s): This is not only my first tumblr post, this is my first x reader so forgive me if its bad </3

Considering that I am a black writer I want everyone to be included in the wonderous x reader experience which is why I have some drafts with neutral appearances and plus size so stay tuned if youre interested babe <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Hold on there, big guy. Take your shoes off” A giggle rested on your lips as you watched Daryl huff and haphazardly toe his boots off, keeping his hands firm on your hips. As soon as his socked feet were on the ground, his lips landed back on top of yours, licking deep into your mouth.

He had been out on a run for what felt like weeks, even though it was only a few days. After dropping off his findings to Rick, he went straight to find you.

Daryl’s hands roamed and groped your body like a starved man, grunting and moaning into your mouth. He had you pinned right against the wall in the living room, pressing your bodies as closely together as he could.

He practically had you trapped there, holding you in place as his kiss-swollen lips began sucking and biting at your exposed throat, pulling breathy moans from your chest. One of his strong hands slid up your shirt to grab a handful of boob, which he squeezed through your lacey bra.

You so badly wanted to take this session upstairs where you know you’ll get your core guts rearranged, however for the past few days you’ve been having a small insecurity, and that was your recent lack of shaving.

Even though you are in the middle of an apocalypse and razors have become a lot more scarce, it still made you feel a little bad about yourself, considering you did have thicker hair down there. As these negative thoughts began to cloud your mind, you started to get turned off, absent mindedly humming under your boyfriend’s touch. You didn’t want him to think that you were gross.

He took note of this and withdrew his hand from under your shirt, and brought it up to your face, redirecting your focus onto his face. “Ya’ alright there, plum?” Part of you wanted to say yes, but your head was already shaking no. “I’m sorry it’s just…” His blue eyes stared into yours, patiently waiting for your response. “I haven’t been able to shave in a while” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away to try to ease your embarrassment.

After a few moments of silence, Daryl scoffed, as if he just processed that you were being serious. He stared at your face for what felt like forever until he finally tilted your head back to look at him, studying your face closely. “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair” His voice was raspy and dark as he spoke, and oh, how you loved yourself a bold man.

His words shot straight down your core and to your cunt, which had begun to throb again. With his words still fresh in your head, you pulled him by the collar up the stairs to your room, where you would get exactly what you wanted.

You swung your door open and slammed it shut, giggles and moans falling from your lips as Daryl scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed, ready to continue his earlier attacks on your body. This time around, he took your shirt completely off, frowning at your bra. “Quit pouting. Help get my pants off and I’ll undo my bra” You spoke as you readjusted yourself to grab at the hooks, while Daryl tore your pants off your long legs, hands immediately going for your underwear. “Nope. Your mouth is gonna be real busy tonight, since you’re such a man” Daryl smirked as he settled his hands obediently on your hips before he hooked his teeth onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, taking them out his mouth and stuffing them in his back pocket. “Fer later” He said as he looked at the amused look on your face. “I’m confused why you’re talking and not eating me out” Daryl licked his lips as he pulled your legs further apart, eyeing your hairy cunt for a bit longer than you’d like. He on the other hand was enjoying the amazing view.

He tightly gripped your hips and pulled them upwards, giving your clit a wet lick as he deeply inhaled your natural scent. It was so intoxicating to him as he really started to go down, licking and sucking at your clit. His spit trickled down and mixed with your slick, and he began to tease your fluttering hole with his finger. Your bottom lip was caught harshly between your teeth, as moans rumbled from your chest, some being a little higher than others. You moaned especially loud when two thick fingers began sliding in and out of you, curling into your sweet spot and scissoring open.

Daryl himself was painfully hard in his pants and had been working up to his own orgasm, as he literally couldn’t get enough of you. The feel of your skin under his burning palm, the taste of your wet cunt on his tongue, cheeks turning red from a combination of pleasure, and your pubic hair rubbing against him. It was so overwhelming for him, as his dick twitched harshly in his pants. Pathetically, he began to grind down on the mattress, groaning erotically against you as he did. Your plump thighs tightened around his head when his relentless attack on your clit became stronger, his tongue hardening up against the bundle of nerves. “Fuck my baby that feels so good” Your fingers tangled in his brown locks, tugging at his scalp in a way you knew he liked.

Little did you know your short tugs would throw him over the edge, body trembling roughly as his cock throbbed in its confinement, shooting ropes of cum in his boxers. His moans vibrated against you, and you could feel yourself nearing the edge, unaware of your boyfriend's situation. You had started to grind down on his tongue and fingers, legs tightening and shaking as you climbed to your peak, moaning lewdly when you tumbled over.

Daryl pulled off you, and his face was a wet deep red mess. His hair was disheveled and your eyes landed on the dark spot in the front of his jeans. “Would you like some help with that sweetheart? How pathetic that you came from only eating me out” You tugged him forward by his vest collar, which you prompted him to take off. Your hands moved to unbuckle his pants as he leaned down to kiss you, the taste of yourself still lingering heavy on his tongue. You tossed the belt onto the floor and yanked at his pants. “Are ya tha eager ta see me naked, darlin?” A smug smile landed on his face as he kicked the offending piece of fabric off, spoiled underwear following suit.

When your eyes landed on his thick cock, engorged tip looking just so damn sensitive, you nodded your head as your dark gaze stared into his. “Get on your back” You placed your hands on his shoulders as you rolled him over, straddling his strong hips and leaning over the bed to snatch his belt up. “Hands.” You snapped the leather in your hands, staring down into his core. Holy hell did he love it. He loved the feeling of you tightening his own belt around his wrists and pinning them above the headboard by wrapping the extra leather around a post. He was an absolute sight for only you.

Your mouth watered as you stared down at your man, who was on complete display for you to gawk at, as you ran a lean hand up his chest, capturing his lips in yours before slamming down onto his cock, high gasp coming from him as his swollen tip bumped your cervix suddenly. You were only getting started as you placed both hands on his chest, grinding your hips skillfully and bouncing steeply, pulling yourself back down when he was only halfway out.

It drove you both crazy, Daryl even more so as you kept saying dirty things to him in an alluring tone. He had a brief thought that you were some type of sex demon attempting to fuck his soul out, which it was definitely working.

Daryl couldn’t keep his head up to watch the pornographic way you were riding him, his hands had began to tug at their restraint.

“Does that feel good baby? I wish you would look at me so I can tell” He whimpered in response, eyes rolling back when you increased your pace. Your fingers traveled up into the front of his hair, which you tugged forward to raise his head. The action went straight to his dick. Your fingers trailed out his hair and down his face, back down his chest.

“Keep your eyes on me, my sweet. Do you feel good?” You tilted your head as you ground your hips down, his dick blissfully bumping your sweet spot. “S’ so good, please let me touch you, sugar, please?” His voice sounded weak and pathetic to his own ears, but it went straight to your cunt, a smile creeping on your lips. “Earn it. My poor legs are tired.” You cooed, making a pouty face at him as you rocked slowly back and forth. “Gonna pound ya’ from underneath, ‘mma make ya’ feel real good” His senseless babbling encited a moan from you, especially when he planted his feet on the bed and lifted his hips, immediately started a rough pace.

He was so desperate to fuck the shit out of you. As he panted heavily, watching intently as he quickly slid in and out of you. He had been so focused that he didn’t feel you undoing his restraints until his hands were guided to fat hips which he gripped tightly and flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up before ramming back in, one hand going up the headboard to steady himself. Even with the position he had you in he still felt compelled to do what you say, deep whimpers falling each time his sensitive tip roughly bumped inside you.

From where his hand was on the headboard, it had began to slam into the wall at the same harsh pace as his hips, which he angled up to hit your sweet spot and slide that much deeper. Fuck, he was starting to become dizzy with pleasure. Your erotic moans filled his ear as he leaned down over you, burying his face in your neck to inhale your strong smell, somehow increasing his pace. “Daryl baby I’m so close… you make me feel so fucking good” You mumbled into the comforter, the hot sounds of your boyfriend’s breath and the banging headboard filling your ears. A calloused finger trailed down your stomach and rubbed your clit in quick circles, Daryl’s strained voice right in your ear. “Cum fer me, darlin’ please let me make you feel real good, fuck- please” You could tell he was much closer to the edge than you, his voice had raised by an octave, his strokes had gotten short yet stronger, and he was practically panting like a dog. You reached a hand back and yanked his hair harder than you intended, crashing your lips together. You felt your body shake as Daryl’s strokes had become sloppy as his second orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. It was so strong that he couldn’t help but pull away and release a harsh whine that burned in his chest. Your own release had you pulling Daryl back down for a kiss, harshly biting his bottom lip. His finger slowed to a stop on your overly sensitive clit.

When you pulled away, it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen, breathing heavily as Daryl rolled onto his back, groaning as he pulled his soft cock out. Your hips landed on the fluffy comforter and Daryl’s cum had started to leak out of you, heating your sweaty face a little more.

After a few minutes, you felt soft lips on your back and a warm towel between your legs, followed by Daryl climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over you, wrapping big arms around your lower back as he pulled you closer. Laughter rose from your chest as he peppered you with kisses. “Told ya’ ‘m a man” He mumbled sleepily, and you scoffed. “My big strong adult man” You kissed his chest, and he hummed, already falling asleep. In the back of your head, you made a mental note to check the damage that was done to the wall in the morning.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

A/N: this was way longer than i intended it to be but i hope y’all enjoyed!! <33

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #fluff #smut #the walking dead #twd #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion smut

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kodydrs · 6 months

Text

don’t stay at my house - j. kirstein

a/n : i need him in a way that’s terrible for feminism. I’ve been in love with this man since day freaking 1 and i think if i search hard enough there’ll be fanfics i wrote abt him when i was 15 (they will not be getting posted). but anywhos. why not send in a request, or ask?!

warnings: jean x fem!reader, jean x marco!sister!reader, fxm, smut (mdni), friends with benefits, brothers best friend type fwb, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), titplay (not really), mostly fully clothed, not proofread (it’s never proofread), I’m bad at tagging still

ib: this one fanart i saw on pinterest

request: yes / no

rule number 1: no feelings. it’s called off straight away if either of us catch feelings

rule number 2 : don’t tell anyone

rule number 3 : all things must be discussed previously before trying

rule number 4 : consent is key

rule number 5 : MARCO CANNOT FIND OUT

It’d been a boring day. You had no classes, and you’d done as much study as your brain would let you. You probably could’ve invited Sasha or Mikasa over, but they both had partners to hang out with, as well as other stuff.

You were single. There was no real reason why. There were boys & girls that’d happily go out with you if you gave them the chance, but dating just didn’t appeal to you that much. Not when there were so many strings attached. But that doesn’t mean you were a slut. You didn’t jump from person to person’s bed or anything. You were happy with your situation.

‘Hey.’

‘Oh. I didn’t realise you were over.’

Jean stood at your door, arms folded and leaning against the frame. He chuckled lightly, walking into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

‘I’ve been here almost all day. Marco just went into town to grab stuff so the house is empty. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. How about you? I haven’t seen you in over a week.’

‘I’ve been great.’ He says, pushing his hair back. ‘But I was kinda wondering if… um… I wanted to see your smile.’

He grinned widely, and the flicker from your eyes to your lips didn’t go unnoticed. You leaned forwards, closing the gap between you slightly.

‘You’re allowed to kiss me, Kirstein.’ You whispered, smiling at his unsubtlety. His grin growing, he brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it lightly before brushing his lips against yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

‘I love your smile. You know that?’ He pulled back slightly, his hand moving down to gently squeeze your thigh beneath your blanket.

‘I know.’ You reply, moving your hand to hold his jaw before smoothing along the bone. His eyes closed, melting into the soft touch of your fingers on his skin.

He leaned in again, and this time their kiss deepened, his other hand moving up to grip your waist, pulling your bodies closer.

‘Jean…’ You breathed, bringing your hands to his chest. Their placement made me groan softly, heart racing.

‘Yeah?’

‘We can’t right now. Marco could get home any minute.’ You pulled back, pressing your foreheads together to maintain proximity. He muttered a quiet ‘damn it’, aware that you were right. He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm his body down.

‘I know this isn’t the best place or time, but I can’t stop thinking about you.’

You could only give a sympathetic smile to his words. You took his hand and rubbed your thumb along his palm.

‘You’ll have to stop it then. You remember the rules. No feelings.’

‘Yeah. Yeah. Got it. “no feelings involved”.’ He said, holding your hand. ‘But you don’t know how hard that is when it's you I could be with. Like, I keep catching myself thinking about things we could do together. It drives me nuts.’

You listened to him, but the inside of your mouth was being abused by your teeth, distracted by his words.

He leaned in to kiss you once again, but this time, your hand came between your mouths, pushing his face away.

‘Look. Jean. I do really like you, ok. But Marco and… if he found out, then that’s the end of it. You won’t be invited over anymore.’

There was a look of hurt in his eyes when you met them. His hands wrapped carefully around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

‘Please say you aren’t pushing me away right now.’ You couldn’t keep looking at his eyes, so they diverted to your wall, holding your breath like you were about to cry.

After a few moments, Jean’s grip on your wrist loosened and you felt the bed adjust as he stood.

‘Yeah. You’re right. We can’t do this.’ You wanted to look at him. You wanted to pour your heart out to him and get him to stay, but the thought of his friendship with your brother being destroyed seemed to keep you quiet.

‘You… You should probably go back to Marco’s room. Pretend the house is actually empty.’

‘Yeah. I should.’ He hesitated for a moment, but he gave you a small smile before he left, closing the door gently. As soon as his footsteps faded, you burst into tears, clutching your shirt to cover your mouth.

Jean left your room hurriedly, face flushed and heart racing from the feelings he’d just tried to suppress.

‘Shit.’ He sat down on the stairs, putting his face in his hands as he took deep breaths. ‘Fucking shit.’

It’d been a few months since the “incident” if you’d even call it an incident at all. You hadn’t seen each other since, and you had no clue if it was because he hadn’t come over, or because you barely left your room. But it didn’t matter to you at all. You had exams to focus on.

‘Hey Marco. Do you have any spare batte-‘ You opened your brothers door, only stopping when you saw he had company. ‘-ries.’

Jean looked up from where he lay on Marco’s bed, face flushed and burying his head down as if it’d hide the fact you’d already seen him. Marco went unphased, opening his drawer to rummage through.

‘What type do you need?’

‘Do you have like, 2 9v ones? Preferably lithium but not too phased.’

He found the first one pretty quickly, but it felt like a mission finding another one. After about 3 minutes, you both gave up and closed the drawer.

‘I’ll pick some up later when I go into town. Do you need anything else?’

‘No. I should be right. Take him with you when you leave.’ You nodded towards Jean. Jean who still had his face hidden. Marco gave you a look, but you just closed the door. You froze outside for a minute, letting out a deep sigh before you went back to your room.

You’d told Marco about what happened. Told him everything from the first hook up to the “break up”. He was a little weirded out at first, but he didn’t seem to care otherwise.

A few hours had passed when you heard the rustle of shoes before a soft knock on your door, followed by your brother's head poking in.

‘I’m going now. Don’t die while I’m gone.’

‘Take Jean with you.’ Marco opened the door fully, folding his arms across his chest.

‘You haven’t been phased by being alone in the house for the past month, so why now that you know he’s here?’

‘Because I know he’s here.’ You emphasised each word, trying to prove your point. ‘It’s like when there’s a serial killer in your house. You aren’t phased until you know they’re there.’

‘That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?’ A deadpan reaction was the only reaction he was getting out of you. ‘Whatever. Just don’t burn the house down.’

‘Thank you.’

Like any brother, he didn’t close your door properly, but you heard the front door close, followed by his car leaving and that was enough reassurance that you were alone in an empty house.

You only worked for another 30 minutes before dehydration set in. Usually you had your drink bottle on your desk or in your bag, but today seemed to be an exception because you couldn’t find it at all. So you stood, pushing your chair back and walked to the kitchen.

Like you wanted, the house was empty and quiet. It was always like that considering it was only you and Marco that lived there.

The house was big enough to fit more people, but living alone just out of the city meant it was mostly silent, mind the few cars that drove past into work or to one of the neighbouring houses. But it also meant that if you needed to, you could catch a bus to your classes.

You were reaching for a glass when you heard footsteps on the lino. It made you flinch, nearly dropping the glass when you saw Jean trying to escape quietly.

‘Why are you still here?!’

He froze, stepping back like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t meant to. Not that he wasn’t meant to be in your house. Just not at that exact moment.

‘Look. I didn’t even know you were here until you came into Marco’s room. I thought you had classes today.’

‘Is that your excuse?’ You asked. Your tone showed how pissed off you were if your expression didn’t. You left the glass on the counter, suddenly well hydrated before storming out of the kitchen.

‘Wait. Please.’ You felt hands grab around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. ‘Just… let me talk. Please.’

You maintained your frown, making it obvious you didn’t wanna hear what he had to say, but you were more respectful than that, so you stopped pulling against him.

He released a sigh and let go of your wrist.

‘Alright. Can I start off by saying I’m sorry? I should’ve checked you weren’t here before I came. That part is fair for you to be mad about.’ You stood, arms folded and leaning against the counter as the brunette continued. ‘And I want to apologise for how things turned out back then. I still really fucked up, and I’m not denying that any of it was wrong, because I pushed you and I shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve any of that.’ You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, an action you noted hasn’t changed in your time apart. But you couldn’t meet his eyes, so they looked down at the floor, the same way you looked away when you last spoke. He sighed again, moving closer to you so his hand gently brushed against your arms.

‘Look. I know I’m not the best, and you probably have plenty of other options that you could go to, but… I still really like you. A lot. And I’ve done everything I can to try move on-‘

‘Jean.’ You interrupted sternly. It’s not like how you used to say it. You used to breath his name with so much love that it drove you both crazy. There was no love in the way you said it now. ‘Stop.’

‘Stop what? Talking to you? Even if I did, I wouldn’t stop thinking about you.’

‘Just stop it!’ There was anger boiling in your voice, but he seemed so clouded that he couldn’t see it.

‘Why? Why do you hate me so?’

‘Because if I don’t hate you, then I’m going to fall in love with you again!’ Tears brimmed your eyes as you finally confessed.

Jean’s heart skipped a beat. He moved closer, placing a hand on your chin and gently raising it until your eyes met.

‘That can’t happen.’ He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Don’t you dare say that. Because I’ve been trying not to for months.’ You’re looking up at him, leaning against his hand. Reaching down, he cupped your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

‘I’ll fight it with everything I have in me but…’ He trailed off, leaning in so his lips barely brushed against yours.

‘But..?’

‘But I can’t promise I’ll win.’

He kissed you slowly, his hands sliding off your face and down your back, pulling you closer. The kiss only deepened as emotions ran high between the 2 of you.

You kissed him like a starved man, quick to get your hands beneath his shirt to feel the dip

Jean moaned against your lips, hands following suit as they slid along your thighs, gripping your hips tightly.

‘God. I’ve wanted this everyday since I last saw you.’ He whispered before pulling away slightly, looking into your eyes. You were quick to pull him back in, whispering against his lips.

‘Then don’t stop.’

He was hesitant for a moment before leaning down to once again taste your lips. He grabbed you around the waist, wrapping his arms around you as your legs wrapped around him.

‘I love you.’

You paused for a minute, almost like you were scared of the words, before you pulled away and kissed his jaw up to his ear.

‘Show me then.’

With a smile, Jean hoisted you atop the counter, positioning himself between your legs while he attacked your neck. A soft whimper came from your mouth, and your fingers tangled with the hair at his nape.

‘You like that?’ He nipped at your neck again, hips grinding languidly against yours. You grinded against him, making you both breath deep as his hands pressed you against the counter. ‘You haven’t changed.’

You grinned, pulling his chin up to look at you.

‘Will you fuck me on the kitchen counter?’

‘You’re a hot mess, aren’t you?’ He chuckled, his judgement clouded by lust and desire. You shurgged.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘You’re so slutty.’ He teased and pecked your lips, but still started to undo his belt. Your grin widened, and you took his free hand, trailing it up your torso to massage your tit through the fabric of your shirt.

His breath hitched, and his fingers searched for your hardened nipple as he pulled his erection free of its restrictions. Seeing his throbbing cock, you slid your shorts and underwear to your ankles, revealing yourself to the man.

‘Fuck. You’re gorgeous.’ He stepped closer, swiping his tip through your wet folds and groaning as he sank into you.

Head thrown back, you gripped his hand that was on your breast, while your other held his nape, keeping you upright.

‘Holy shit-‘

‘That’s right, baby. Just like that. Take it all.’ He started with moving slowly, dragging himself along your walls with a string of soft grunts. But as he felt you relax around him, he picked up speed, skin slapping together in rhythm.

Damn did you miss this. Both of you missed it. Missed the way he’d tease you by changing pace, but just not enough teasing to annoy you. Missed the way you had to keep a hand over your mouth so the neighbours couldn’t hear you being fucked by your brothers best friend.

Jean leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his thrusts growing deeper and more intense as he felt you clench around him tightly.

‘Jean.’ You whimpered, interlacing your fingers.

‘I know, baby.’ He bit your bottom lip, feeling the pleasure coursing through you both. He could tell by the way your body was reacting that you were close, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t either, noticeable by his movements becoming more desperate.

You did your best to grind your hips to his timing, making you both groan. Eyes rolled at the overwhelming sensation, unable to hold back any longer.

‘Fuck. I’m gonna cum.’

‘You can cum inside.’ You panted, pulling his lips back to yours. With a few final thrusts, he groaned as he released his seed deep inside you, feeling your wall clench around him in the most perfect way. You came hard at the same time, trembling against him as the aftermath washed over you both.

‘Fuck, baby…’ Leaning heavily forwards and stabilising himself on the counter, he pressed gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. Your hand on the back of his neck found its way to his hair, running your fingers through the strands.

‘T-That was good.’

He sighed, an unmatched sense of comfort in your presence. Arm wrapped around you, he pulled back to look in your eyes.

‘God. I want you.’ His face was flushed, like he was embarrassed to admit it. You smiled, brushing his hair out of his face.

‘Then you can have me.’ His heart races at your words. searching your eyes like they would tell him how serious you were being. You just grin, pulling him back down for another kiss. Another kiss, just as the front door opens.

‘Shit.’

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

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00fairylights00 · 5 months

Text

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature.

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with.

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel.

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat.

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk.

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily.

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling.

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach.

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely.

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet.

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.”

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness.

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention.

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for.

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his.

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head.

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings.

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided,

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite.

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly.

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day.

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail.

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind.

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.”

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair.

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss.

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

#I started writing this in October when I had barely scratched the surface of the game #Still have not finished it though lmao #Also sorry for all the @’s I just wanted everyone to be properly credited and what not if that’s annoying lemme know and I’ll make sure it’#Do I know anything about anything? No #Also P talks a lot in this one #Controversial I know :o #I’m kidding #I realised after writing all of this out that the game takes place over like 3 days #So just suspend reality for me if you would #I am no stranger to lengthening the timeline to fit my selfish needs I will do it again in fact #And you will not complain because I wrote the puppet boy kissing YOU 🫵🏻#pushing my bunny kisses agenda once again #Lies of P x Reader #Pinocchio x Reader #Lies of P #Don’t ask me where the puppet is on the humanity scale because I do not know #jan 2024 #Pretty Boy series #🦋 let your conscience be your guide

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