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yandere-daydreams · 2 months

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file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side beside you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Lole this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore. There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #gojo satoru x reader

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 5 months

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Soft Boi - Max Verstappen

Summary: Max found his reason to smile no matter what and to her nothing else matters when Max smiles.

"Hey mate, y/n has arrived. She's asked me to pass on her apology for being late." GP states into Max's radio as he sits in the car for FP1, looking at the data.

Max looks up, pushing his visor up properly before he spots his girlfriend moving back over to the garage from the pit wall where she presumably asked GP to pass on the message.

Usually girlfriends wouldn't be allowed to do anything like that, but honestly Max is yet to find a person who gives less of a fuck about any rules. He'd love to watch someone challenge her about her actions. When fans or the media say Max doesn't care enough, he is always internally laughing because they don't know much about his girlfriend due to him choosing to keep his relationship as something that is private to him, but if they knew how little she cares about other's opinions or thoughts, they'd have a field day trying too rip into them.

Although it would make no difference, because if she doesn't love you or at least consider you a friend then your opinion means so little she'd probably ignore it if it came up in conversation.

"Y/n!" Max calls out making her stop before smiling and moving to the car. Her smile trigging his own.

"Hi, baby. Sorry, I'm late. The fucking flight got delayed." Y/n sighs as she leans as much as she can through the gap of the halo. "How's the practice going?"

"It's alright. Better now you're here." Max smiles while she laughs watching him unstrap his helmet and pull it up just enough for her to close the space between them, placing a kiss on his lips before moving back.

"I'll see you in a bit." Y/n states then moving when she gets a look from Christian which just screams that she's holding things up. She shoots him a thumbs up before rushing off to the back of the garage.

That's where she stays till Max appears having a brief moment between the practice ending where he moves to y/n.

"Hi, baby." Y/n smiles while Max sighs knowing he can't stay with her for long since FP1 is always an important practice for set up and data. "What's that look for? Is something wrong with the car?"

"No, I have missed you and now I have to wait even longer to spend time with you." Max sighs gently taking her hand. "I love you."

"I love you too, you dope. We've got plenty of time to spend together, don't worry."

He kisses her softly then moves to get dressed while y/n sits waiting for him. She's a big personality, but actually Max brings out a softer more quiet side that doesn't require so much volume. The same way she brings out Max's softer side in terms of him being less serious and angry.

She's not's always there for the races but the whole team sees a difference in the world champion when she is present and it's nothing they are complaining about.

"Does anyone know where y/n is?" Max asks after finishing up for the day and finding that y/n is nowhere to be found in the Red Bull unit.

"She's already waiting in your car, said something about you wanting to leave as soon as possible. So she figured she'd grab your stuff and meet you there. Thought she might've mentioned it." Helmut states making Max smile. "You ought to just go ahead and marry her if she makes you smile like that without even being in the same room."

"I'll see you tomorrow." Max smiles heading out and brightening when he gets past the security gate for the paddock, spotting y/n in his car. Clearly having grabbed some food before she left as she holds a bowl with chips in it. Instead of going to the driver's side, Max smiles opening the passenger side and crouching down behind the door while y/n looks at him. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah, actually." Y/n giggles then holding out a chip for him which he takes opening his mouth. "Are we not leaving?"

"No, we are, I just figured I'd just check you didn't secretly leave for some other reason." Max shrugs before standing up and leaning in to kiss her before moving back and closing the door. Hyperaware of the fact there was almost definitely cameras which captured the moment.

He doesn't necessarily mind people recording them, even if he likes that there's little known about y/n. It makes him feel more like this relationship really is just something for him and her. It's not a display of evidence that he has a heart.

"You know how much I love your smile." Y/n states making Max sigh and look at her for a moment.

This is not the first time Max has had to hear from his girlfriend about how much his smile means to her. She's spent hours telling him that he has the best smile and she can't imagine a life without his smiles after being so privileged to see them every time she sees him.

"You know how much I love you." Max replies making her sigh softly getting up in her seat and climbing into his lap earning a laugh before she cups his face kissing him several times. "I thought we were leaving."

"Maybe I just wanted to do this away from the team. Plus all the onlookers have left." Y/n smiles before she sighs. "I missed you while you've been gone."

"I've missed you too. I wish I could bring you with me all the time. But you won't let me."

"I think everyone would agree, I distract you too much when I'm around." Y/n sighs softly before she rests her head on his shoulder. "Let's just enjoy the peace and each other for a bit."

"Ok, that's fine with me." Max nods shifting the seat back so she has a bit more space without being squished.

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 7 months

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In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo

John Price X Reader

You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?

A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death

Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.

It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.

“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.

“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.

“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.

It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.

No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.

You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.

It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.

It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.

Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.

“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.

You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.

Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.

Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.

Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.

The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots.

The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person!

“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.

“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.

“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.

“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.

The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.

“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.

The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.

“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.

It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.

“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups.

“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.

“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.

“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.

Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.

Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.

“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.

“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl.

The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink.

The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.

Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.

“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.

“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.

“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.

“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.

Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.

You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.

It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.

“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.

“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.

Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.

“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.

You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?

Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.

“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.

The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.

“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.

You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.

“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.

They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.

“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.

The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.

“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.

Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.

“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.

“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?

“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.

The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.

“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.

You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.

“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.

Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.

Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?

“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.

“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.

They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?

The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.

“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.

“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.

Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.

“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.

He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.

Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.

That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.

“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.

“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?

“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.

Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.

“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.

You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.

“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.

“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.

“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.

“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.

The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.

Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.

“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.

“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!

“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.

“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.

Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.

—---------

You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.

“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.

Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.

Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.

“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.

“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.

He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.

—-----

No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.

“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.

You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain.

Oh.

This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.

“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.

John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.

“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.

“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.

“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.

John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.

“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.

“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.

“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.

John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.

You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?

“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.

Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark

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cosmal · 1 year

Note

Poly!Marauders x touch-starved fem!reader who’s too embarrassed to ask for attention..

cuddle

summary you really want a hug from your boys

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note i don’t like this sorry

You get home from work later than you'd anticipated. You're exhausted, every step you take feels heavy, slow. You smell like the tube and your limbs are screaming for a hot shower.

But when you see your boys, you bubble with adoration.

You've all only just moved in together, the routine is fresh and exciting. You're not used to coming home to being welcomed by a parade of love and something on the stove.

You hang your coat and take off your shoes. The feet of your tights are a little damp. Sirius meets you in the hall.

"You're home," he says with a smack of a kiss to your cheek. You beam. "Is it raining out there? Sweetheart, I would've come and picked you up."

"It's okay," you smile. You think he's just finished work too, he's probably just as tired. "I read on the train." Sirius doesn't look pleased.

James hugs you as soon as he sees you. He's all flushed like he's just gotten back from the gym. Grey sweats and a black hoodie. You melt under his affection. "Cold out there, huh?"

"Yeah," you say quietly. You struggle to not show how affected you feel under their loving. You tuck a damp curl away from his face instead. Ignoring how warm your face feels. "You feeling tired?"

"A little."

"My poor baby." You kiss his shoulder and follow the sound of your name from the kitchen. James groans.

You're welcomed by Remus's long arms and a kiss to the top of your head when you find him. He keeps an eye on his sauteed vegetables while he squishes you. The heat from the stove hugs your face while you feel just as shy in his hold as you did the others. You wonder if you'll ever get used to it.

Eventually, Remus gets busy with dinner, boiling pasta and adding sauce to the veg. Sirius sets himself up behind his computer, and James gets in the shower. You were hoping, selfishly, for an invitation from him but felt stupid for thinking so. He’s tired. Sirius would probably whinge. Understandably.

You sit on your bed, work skirt and top discarded. A pair of tights and the vest makes you look a little funny but you don’t have it in you to care. You know the boys wouldn't mind either.

You wonder what they’d say if you asked them to cuddle. You know, hopefully, that their answer would most likely be yes. You just don’t like how you’d sound. Because, you really hate yourself for it, you’ve never actually had to ask them. They hug and kiss you all the time like they have a sixth sense for when you need it.

You feel tired, bored. You know they'd be the perfect fix. You just don't know how to go about it. Hey, Remus, wanna cuddle? Sirius, come sit on the lounge? James, your lips look pretty soft today.

You walk out into the main part of the house and it smells even better. Welcoming. You stand in the lounge room, damp tights pressed into the crush of carpet. Sirius is busy, Remus is making sure his pasta doesn't turn to mush, and you think James is still washing his hair.

You're used to your own routine after work but now you want to include the others because it makes sense. You feel silly.

Sirius looks up from his computer, his jaw washed in blue light. He pushes his reading glasses up his face and into his hair. "You okay, darling?"

You turn, mildly startled, with the pad of your finger in your mouth. You blink slowly. "Hmm?"

He seems half-amused, turning in his chair until he can see you properly. You feel barer than your clothes can allow. "You're half naked in the sitting room."

"Sorry," you wrinkle your face up. You're without a plan now and feel embarrassed. "I was gonna..."

As Sirius stands from his chair, James comes out of your room in his pyjamas on and a towel over his shoulder. His curls damp and a little flat. You think you might put some cream in them later if you remember.

Sirius stands in front of you, James stands to the side, half curious. "You were gonna?"

You swallow. Sirius has a funny way of making you shy. Probably because you know he'd have no problem asking you for a kiss, he does it every day. You're half-envious, half-nervous.

You duck your head, much to both boys' displeasure, and twist your feet until your tights bunch. "I feel silly now."

"Sirius does that sometimes," James says from over your shoulder. You can sense the look Sirius shoots him without having to look at them. You bite back a smile.

Sirius encourages your face up with the side of his finger under your chin. Your skin feels branded. "Hey, it's okay. What's on your mind?"

"You guys are busy."

"Not really," Sirius says softly. You really, really want to hold his hand.

"Yeah?"

"Well, Remus is," Sirius says. "But James and I are free."

You try to work up your courage and remember it's just Sirius. "Could we, maybe..." Sirius smiles, pretty teeth peeking out from his smooth lips. It strikes your heart alight. "Coul we maybe cuddle? Or something, I don't know, I just really need a hug."

You watch Sirius's shoulders fall. Letting out a breath he's been holding in. He relaxes. "Oh, baby, that's all?" He gets you into his arms when you pout. "I thought it was like super serious."

"It is serious," you mope into his button-up. "I really wanted a hug. I just didn't know how to ask."

"You're right," He steals a hand from your back to cradle your face. He holds you back and pushes a finger into your cheek. He looks mildly put out. "You're right, that is super serious. You know you don't have to ask for a hug, right?"

James finally comes around to steal you from Sirius. Gets you into his chest and hugs you until you're smothered. "You never have to ask any of us for a hug. Or a kiss. We're free range, baby."

"You guys were doing stuff," you go a little limp against his frame. He holds you up like you're nothing. "I felt stupid. I was just bored."

"Doesn't matter," he kisses the top of your head, swaying you back and forth a bit. “Hug me whenever. I know the others feels the same.”

“Even when I’m dressed like this?” You smother a giggle into his neck.

“Especially when you’re dressed like this,” James says. Sirius seconds it.

“Okay,” you sigh.

Lovesick, still hugging in the sitting room, you hear Remus call out that dinner’s now ready. You follow each other into the kitchen like a bunch of children.

You plate up your dinner while Sirius butters you a fresh roll. You smack a loving kiss to Remus’s cheek. “Thanks, Rem. Smells amazing.”

“Hey, can we eat on the sofa tonight?” James asks, already shovelling pasta into his mouth.

“Why?” Remus asks.

“Y/N wants to spend more time with us,” James wipes some sauce from his face, “She really wants to cuddle.”

“Oh, honey,” Remus pouts, “Why didn’t you just ask? I’ve been wanting to hug you all night.”

“That’s what I said!” You hear Sirius from behind you.

You warm, stuffing your mouth full of pasta to distract yourself.

The boys cuddle you all night.

#james potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders #poly marauders fanfic

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azrielbrainrot · 14 days

Text

Loose Lips and Big Feelings

Band Member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Azriel gets a little drunk and you take care of him.

Warnings: Alcohol?

Word Count: 2320

Notes: This is a little short but very cute. As always, this is part of the band au but you can read it as a standalone. Also I decided the boys make early Arctic Monkeys type music because imagining Azriel singing 505 sounds delicious. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

The bar was already packed with drunk people by the time you arrived. It was so full you were surprised they even let you in, you had to take a deep breath, readying yourself before diving into the sea of people. Finding Azriel and his friends was going to be harder than you thought, you might have to text him again. The situation was somewhat nostalgic to the first time you set foot in this bar, the same night you met Azriel. It's amazing how much things have changed in a matter of months.

Someone was doing a cover of a song you recognized on stage, it almost made you want to hum along and enjoy it for a bit, but you needed to get to Azriel's table first. You couldn't really see the woman singing on stage aside from her striking ginger hair and blue dress, but her voice was truly amazing. You could definitely understand why everyone was so excited to see her. You'd have to ask Azriel if he knew her, maybe try to see one of her shows properly.

You hadn't actually planned on coming tonight, Azriel and the boys weren't even playing and you'd rather sleep away the week. In fact, an hour ago you had been sitting at your desk hoping to get enough progress on an essay so you could completely free up your Sunday to rest and lay in bed all day. But, when a mildly intoxicated Azriel texted you, asking you to meet up with him at the bar, you couldn't resist the offer.

It's not often he asks you outright to meet him, always so conscious of your hectic schedule and workload, even your recent aversion to social outings. So you couldn't really deny him the one time he actually did. You were also a bit curious to see what had him so excited, his happiness was extremely contagious, and admittedly a bit curious to see what he's like when he's drunk, if your intuition had been right then he was close to wasted when he sent you those texts littered with typos.

He had told you that they were sitting at the table by the big red poster, you were pretty sure you knew which one he meant, but unfortunately it was close to the stage which means it would be difficult to get to it while the performance was happening. You were caught between excuse me’s and apologies when you finally caught sight of familiar broad shoulders and luscious tied back hair.

Even when they're not on stage, they're hard to miss. Cassian is at least a head taller than the crowd, so even when he's sitting down you can always count on finding him. He's the first one to notice you as well, greeting you with a shout of your name, somehow audible over the music, and a big grin, as you keep trying to gently push your way through the crowd to get to them.

You find the three of them tucked into the sofas by the table Azriel told you about. Apparently being one of the performing bands gave you access to the best seats in the bar, you always got stuck with the regular chairs. As you get closer to the table you notice Morrigan and another girl you haven't met before were also present.

“You came,” Morrigan yelled excitedly as soon as you got up to the table. It seems they're all drinking tonight, the table is full of grins and flushed cheeks.

“I did,” you chuckle at the overenthusiastic greetings from everyone at the table. A familiar scarred hand reaches out for yours immediately, tugging on it so you would sit down next to him. It's not missed on you the eyebrows the gesture raises, you've learned that he's not always forthcoming with letting people touch or hold his hands so you're sure they didn't really expect him to do it so easily. They probably didn't know Azriel told you everything either.

The sofas were small so it was a tight fit as you sat down right next to him, having no other option but let your leg comfortably rest on his, the feeling of his rough jeans on your bare skin making you giddy for some reason. His arm comes around your waist straight away so his hand settles on the side of your thigh, pulling you even closer into him.

The gesture makes you look up at him, his face a lot closer than you expected, you could feel his breath hit your skin and if you moved even an inch closer your nose would bump against his. The smile he gives you almost takes your breath away as you let out a soft greeting, “Hi.” You're surprised he even heard you, if you weren't so close to each other he wouldn't have been able to over the music, but he throws the same word back at you, in the same whispered tone you used, as his smile widens, eyes not making any effort to leave yours.

“So this is Azriel's friend,” the girl you haven't met before says, with a tone that suggests she's heard a lot about you. The thought of Azriel or any of the boys telling anyone about you has your heart skipping a beat. Her voice also cuts through the spell you and Azriel seemed to be locked in, finally breaking eye contact with him so you can answer her. But, as you look back to the table, you become more than aware that everyone just witnessed your little moment and the smirks on their faces make it hard to play it off.

“This is Amren. She's our manager,” Rhysand explains before you have to ask, a shit eating grin growing on his face as he takes in the flushed state of yours.

“Nice to meet you,” you try to keep your voice leveled but even to your ears it sounds breathless. You swallow softly and try to move the conversation along as Azriel starts rubbing small circles over your skirt, “You didn't tell me why you're celebrating.”

“Rita just told us she's doubling our performances at the bar,” Azriel explains, a little slur noticeable in his voice.

“Really?” You turn back to him as he nods again with a big grin on his face. He looked really excited to share the news with you.

“She's giving us a raise too,” Cass adds, and then looks back at his mostly empty cup and then at your empty hand, “We need to get you a drink.” You stop him before he can get up. “I think I'll be the responsible one tonight and stay sober.” The disappointed reactions around the table make you laugh but also accept that you'd be the babysitter tonight, they were all bordering on wasted already.

As the night went on, everyone only got progressively drunker. It seems like since they can't usually drink too much when they have to perform, they took the opportunity that everyone was here to party as much as they could. Even Azriel, who you never really saw drinking, was talking and laughing like you've never really seen him. He's more of a quiet guy most of the time, preferring to listen rather than entertain. It was nice to see him let loose a little.

The bar was getting quieter since the performance had ended a while ago and the big majority of the attendees started filtering out shortly after. The only people that were still around were ones that were as drunk as your present company. You didn't really mind being sober though, Cassian had brought you some sort of juice so you had something to sip on, and as loud as they were, they were easy drunks to deal with.

Amren had left right after the performance ended with a warning not to stay up too late since they had practice tomorrow. You got the sense she wasn't too much of a crowded bar person but she seemed nice enough. After that everyone else seemed to leave one by one, you tried to keep track of them, not wanting them to end up in trouble as drunk as they were, but as you saw Morrigan making out with a pretty girl with long black hair on the dancefloor your worry subsided.

This also left you alone with Azriel, who has been a lot more talkative and touchy than he usually is. At this exact moment, he was telling you a story, that you lost track of about halfway in, and holding one of your hands in between his, as he played with your fingers, twisting and turning the rings you were wearing. He has also not made any move to sit away from you even though you were the only remaining people at the table, your leg really didn't need to be thrown over his. Azriel was a clingy drunk and your cheeks hurt from smiling at the realization.

You were pondering on how to stop him so you could take him home. It was getting really late and you've already gotten almost unreadable texts from everyone saying they left. He had also told you he had work today so he has to be exhausted. But you didn't have the heart as you watched him excitedly continue on with his story.

At some point, he notices you weren't really following along and just stops, tilting his head to the side slightly. Your smile only widens at the sight. “What?”

“You're cute when you're drunk,” you admit.

“I think you're cute all the time,” he retorts without missing a beat, making your face heat up.

You always had a hard time telling yourself to keep your feelings for him platonic, but between the boyish smile, the flirtatious comments and the lingering touches, it was getting close to impossible to achieve today. “And flirty,” you struggle out.

“Only with you.” Cauldron. You really needed to get him to sober up and take him home.

You get up to do just that and within ten minutes, you're out of the bar and waiting for an uber by the same empty parking lot you usually find yourself in when you come out. He's also a pretty obedient drunk it seems. All you had to do was grab his hand and he looked like he was ready to follow you anywhere your heart desired. You were so glad you chose not to drink because your heart was definitely giving you ideas and your brain was the only thing stopping you.

Azriel was still holding onto your hand and you honestly had no intention of letting go of him. You couldn't really take your eyes off him. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushed, the low lights of the bar hasn't let you really take in the sight. Some of his hair was sticking to his forehead and that same boyish smile hasn't left his face all night. No one should be allowed to look this good when they're drunk.

“Remember when we met here?” His words were starting to sound a bit clearer, maybe the cold air was helping him sober up a little or he was just getting tired. You think he told you he had work today and it was already late.

“Of course. It only happened a few months ago.”

“Feels like I've known you my whole life,” he says as he looks down at your linked hands, running his thumb softly over your skin.

“We didn't meet here though,” your voice seems to bring him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours, “You gave me back my keys when we were still inside.”

His smile turned a little shy at that. “I'm not sure that counts. I was running late and barely said anything,” he says rubbing the back of his neck, “I was beating myself up over it the whole show.”

“I…” you hesitate for a moment, unsure if he'll remember anything come morning. unsure if you'd want him to, “I was having a really bad day when we met, didn't even really want to come out, but I'm really glad I did, even though I got a massive headache out of it. If I hadn't come I wouldn't have met you. And I can't really imagine my life without you now.”

You tighten your hold on his hand and use it to pull him a little closer to you, close enough that you have to crane your neck back to be able to keep looking up into his eyes. “I think you came into my life at the perfect time, Azriel,” you smile up at him.

The emotion that crosses his face is so overbearing it's impossible to miss or confuse for anything else than adoration and… something more, something you've been trying to ignore for far too long. Gods, you really wish he was sober.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb over your warm skin. “I think so too, princess,” he whispers, looking at you like he can't believe you're real. You've noticed the nickname only comes out when it's just the two of you and at times like this, when it seems he doesn't even realize he's said it, like he's been holding himself back from doing it regularly.

You could have stayed here, looking up at his beautiful hazel eyes all night, but it doesn't take long for a black car to come to a stop a few feet away from you, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts. You almost forgot you were still outside the bar, still needed to take this big drunk bat home. Taking a step back, you tug on his hand once again, so he can follow you to the car. “Come on, Azzie. We need to get you home.”

taglist: @bookishbroadwaybish @sad-anxious-muffin @mika-no-sekai-blog @starwholistenanddreamsanswered @secretlyhers @evergreenlark @vermillionwinter @anuttellaa @lilah-asteria @tinymarklee @lupinswolfsbanes @therealmoonstone

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel fluff

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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

Text

[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.

Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.

"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."

Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.

"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."

"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'

"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.

Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.

Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.

"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?

"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.

Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.

He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.

Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.

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eldritch-spouse · 7 months

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i cannot believe no one has suggested this

imagine zizz walking in (or waking up to) on his queen humping one of the plushies

[This isn't exactly what you want it to be, but I had a massive brain vomit moment. Fem reader. There's art in this one.]

TW: Plushophilia (??? There's a doll monster is what I'm trying to say)

Rare are the days where you wake up alone in bed.

Zizz actually sleeps in quite a bit later than you. Granted he usually also settles down for the night much later. Nevertheless, it has become a habit of yours to wake up between his arms, tucked under his chin, or perhaps even being spooned, his hips somewhat restless behind yours.

It must have become an increasingly important aspect of your routine, because you find waking up alone to be more and more insupportable lately. So much so that you groan, immediately disappointed as soon as you register reality- No extra warmth, no gentle breathing beside you, no rumbling purr or claws petting across your hair.

Part of you wants to close your eyes, roll to the side, grab the nearest pile of softness and go back to sleep- Waiting for your King to return so you can wake up properly. And yet, another part is also restless.

What is he up to?

It's not as if you're worried about Zizz, he's probably busy with some project you can't be fucked to care about, but you're almost... Indignant. Some petty little voice in you demands you find the King and plop yourself on his lap, impeding him from working any further as punishment for denying you wake up affections.

When you yawn and make to get up, a slight tug is felt on your arm. Reflexively looking back, you find several of the stuffed companions you share with the ruler crowding your side, as if knowing you intend to leave and attempting to beckon you otherwise. It's tempting.

But not enough to halt you.

Because only a few moments later, you sluggishly take a stand, moving towards the large doors leading out of the bedchambers. All is fine until you turn one of the handles and... Nothing moves.

It actually takes your sluggish brain a couple of static-fillled seconds to register that. The realization followed by another tug, a harsher one to the twin handle, a fierce shove. Nothing. Not a budge, nor a creak.

They're... Locked?

In the relative darkness of the room -Kept this way to cater to Zizz's light-sensitive eyesight- You only note the piece of paper stuck to the left door after an embarrassing amount of jostling the fancy handles. Irritation makes you rip the notice away, squinting so as to make sense of the scribbled writing.

" Your excellence,

I lament to inform you that King Zizz has been called for an extremely urgent matter that requires his immediate attention. Under his command, I was instructed to keep you inside the bed chambers at all costs until his arrival. According to Lord Zizz, it should only take a little while. You may even still be sleeping by the time he returns.

Regards,

Jayde. "

Fury makes you crumple the sheet of paper into a ball, chucking it at the doors as if the force alone would cause them to suddenly part ways.

He's just going to keep you locked up in here like a doll? Like some pet?! The nerve.

For as much as Zizz says he loves you infinitely, incidents like these really serve to highlight a bitter truth you often turn a blind eye to. That he thinks less of you, that he doesn't trust you to handle the smallest things on your own. Maybe because he thinks you can't, that you're so limited to the point of having to be kept in a bedroom like some child.

Mind ping-ponging between all sorts of unearthed emotions, you consider behaving in exactly the way he seems to see you- By throwing a petulant tantrum befitting of someone truly as limited as he thinks you are. And just as a not so smart voice in your head congratulates you for such a thought, a touch halts that process entirely.

You jolt slightly, glancing down. One of the stuffed dolls from Zizz's endless collection lies on the carpeted ground, little rounded hand outstretched towards your foot. Have you seen this one before? It's hard to tell.

He's cute, a crocheted demonoid made of a mix and mash of pink yarn hues. The only other color on him is black, on his wide button eyes, a silk bow around his neck and his adorable tail adorned with jingling bells at the bottom. Why, he's so lovable! Is this one new in the King's collection? That doesn't make sense, Zizz would have shown you if that were the case, he always does. It must have been one you just don't get to see as often- Lord knows some of them are perpetually buried in the ocean of fluff and warmth that suffocates this room at times.

" Aw, aren't you cute? " You coo at the little thing, eyeing his little curved horns as you speak mostly to yourself. They listen however, you know they do.

" You want me to stay? If you reeeeally mean it, I guess I can... "

The choice isn't there, you're just trying to make yourself feel better and avoid getting angry until Zizz comes back.

As soon as you turn back, jingling and rustling can be heard. It's not cause for alarm, you're well aware these cotton and silken entities move on their own frequently, especially when no one's looking their way -It stopped being creepy after the first few days- So you assume the little pink thing is going to crawl back to its resting spot now that you have been successfully convinced to drop the doors.

Instead, you feel a much bigger pair of hands quickly shove your back. You yelp, a clumsy foot catching on your flowing nightgown and swiftly sending you tumbling onto the bed. It'd be lying to say that a small inkling of fear didn't course through you, steadily growing as you gather enough wit and reflex to roll around on the mattress and spot your assailant.

At the foot of the bed stands none other than the same plush you just talked to.

But he shifted.

Now much bigger, the yarn that once composed him has become a finely molded pattern over a much more humanoid form that shifts and moves exactly like your own. An amused, definitely mischievous smile creases the edges of his soft cheeks, covering up a bit of those button eyes- Surprisingly expressive for a thing that's supposed to have a fixed expression. It's extremely odd to admit this, but the more you look at him, the more weirdly attractive he becomes in spite of his strange fabric-based biology. Part of you almost wants to reach out and touch him.

Mild apprehension doesn't allow you to.

These creatures only shift into bigger forms of themselves when there's a good reason for such. Like imminent danger, intruders, tasks that require more refined figures. Most of the time, from what you recall being told, they're content to ragdoll and observe things or simply become inactive. So why is this one so active? Does he think you're going to try to escape? Yeah right, no amount of luck could make it happen.

" ... Buddy? "

The plush monster perks up, and when the ringing of tiny bells hits your ears, you realize he's wagging his tail happily. Not a second later, the yarn entity has climbed atop the bed and looms over your form with great stitched glee in its face. You don't even get to ask him what's happening before the pink thing sinks to snuggle against you in a warm hug.

He's so bizarrely soft.

As the monster silently rubs and nuzzles his head everywhere on your neck, chest and cheek, you can only marvel at the almost unbelievable smoothness of his... Skin? Not really. The sensation is so new that you don't even deign to think too much about what's happening, happily giggling when you bury your own face in the pleasant pink fuzz of his of his head. Okay then, he's just feeling affectionate, you can deal with that. In spite of the plush texture, experimentally grabbing at his arms reveals that there isn't as much give to him as you'd expect, like something more solid lurks beneath that friendly and deceitfully fragile exterior.

You toy with his bow a little, twirling the ends as you sigh.

" I'm not leaving, you know? I can't. "

He nods under your chin, face dipping towards your cleavage as smooth claws edge up the length of your legs. And while you allow it to happen, the gears start turning in your head. They're not really supposed to do that, are they?

You've seen many of the dolls shift, seen them perform a couple of menial tasks, asking for attention, but you never saw them... Being so bold. Sexual even. Are they capable of that? You'd like to think you're not a pervert, but built so well as this one is, maybe this is his function. You have caught the King with pillows and stuffed bedmates between his legs before- It wouldn't be that surprising if they're meant to do this from time to time.

But then... The one currently groping your thighs... If you let him continue, would you be cheating on the demonlord? No. Surely not, right? He uses them for pleasure too, it would be hypocritical of Zizz to become upset over something like this. You hope, at least. Still, you're not sure how to feel about it.

As you lie there still, deliberating on the situation unfolding, his shiver-inducing dance over your legs reaches your thighs. He's gentle, massaging from the outside, upwards, gripping your hips, then following the line of your panties back down to your inner thighs, a sensual and slow stroke that has you relaxing and sighing in pleasure. You recognize the motions, these are gestures Zizz likes to use on you, to hear you softly moan and smile, spreading your legs for him further. It shouldn't surprise you that some -Or all- Of his plushies would know how to touch you too. They're constant observers.

He looks content to have you so pliant beneath him, and you're sure the monster would be rumbling like its master if it was capable of making sounds. The frequent jingling of his swatting tail is evidence enough of his approval. Yet, as pleasant as this is all being, you reach for those pink wrists when a claw tries to slide your undergarments aside.

" Hey. " You start, having to squeeze a little so he puts his whole attention on your face. The doll monster tilts his head. " I'm... We shouldn't do anything, Zizz isn't here... "

The entity tilts his head more, as if not really understanding where you're coming from, silence stretches on for a small eternity between you, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can admit to yourself that it's more than a little thrilling to give this a shot. To see what it's like to bed one of the King's stuffed dolls. After all, there must be a reason he likes them so much... But you don't want to go too far. Not without knowing more.

" We can't- Uhm, we can't have sex, okay? " Gods you've never cringed at yourself so hard.

The doll seems to flinch at the mention of sex, horned head shaking frantically as he quickly removes his featherlite fingers off your figure entirely. Though a smile stretches his yarned cheeks when he wags a finger at you, proceeding to use both hands to frame... His slit.

Because it can only be that between his legs. It's the same exact color as the rest of his body, blending together amidst all the rounds of fabric that compose his body. You can't be blamed for having missed it at first. More important however, is the strand of white yarn stitched over said area, in the same way you'd sew someone's wounds, though with a small bow at the bottom.

It takes a bit for you to piece what it means together.

The monster reaches to try and slip a finger under the yarn, trying to dislodge it off him, but it seems to be well secured. He then casually taps your groin, then his, shaking his head again.

Ah.

" Oh! " Your eyes widen. " So you can't... It doesn't come off? " Penetration is not on the table.

The pink doll nods. Honestly, you have no idea what kind of cock this type of being can have...

" O- Okay. " That does make you feel better about things for now. Though it begs the question. " Did Zizz put that on you? "

Another nod.

His brows furrow as he seems to be thinking of something for a few quiet moments. Then, a tad suddenly, the doll moves off you to thump soundlessly beside you on the bed. He spreads his legs some and makes an eager beckoning gesture towards you.

Not really understanding but too curious to deny him, you do as told, getting the picture when he slides one of your legs over his right one, making you straddle it. This time, when he looks at your face and slowly slides your panties to the side, there's no misunderstanding between you.

Not that your face isn't heating up at the implication.

The monster's chest shifts and his mouth parts like he's mutely lauging. And it makes sense, the doll has probably seen you and Zizz get up to some pretty shameless stuff in this very room, he likely thinks it's hilarious that you're hesitating to do something as simple as ride his thigh.

" Oh shush. "

Soft claws rub down your back, cupping the globes of your ass underneath your gown and starting a slow, luscious rhythm on his leg. The monster happily allows you to adjust, learn what angle provides the best friction on your clit while he kneads and gropes greedily at your cushion.

You don't really consider yourself to be much of a humper.

Of course, you've done it before a couple of times, the difference here being that none of the things you used would stare knowingly at you, would smirk when you shuddered in pleasure or even minutely push back against your movements. They wouldn't squeeze approvingly at your hips and waist, reach to fondle the peaks of your tits- To say that a plush lusts after you would be madness. At least until today.

Restless thighs clench around his own as you speed up, rocking harder, grinding yourself, soaking his fabric in your own chase for a peak that you didn't even know you were craving so bad up until now. Distantly, you wonder how many are watching now, if they feel any jealousy towards the brave and lucky plush that dared make a move.

Unfortunately, you're having trouble getting there on your own, cursing underneath your breath while your body tenses and coils but never enough to trigger that sweet release. There's no way he doesn't see you struggling and sweating on him, the little bastard's likely just enjoying the show. Ugh.

" Mm- Finger me, please. "

And yet, no matter how sweet your tone was, how you used manners, he didn't budge, smile climbing further up his rosy face as he shook his head, tail thumping on the sheets. The blatant denial makes you halt entirely, frowning.

" Wh- What do you mean no?! " That sounded a lot more aggressive than you meant it to be.

But still, these monsters are servants, their purpose to fulfill the royalty's orders, that's what they strive for. If you tell one to touch you a certain way, surely they'd be more than happy to do so, right?

The entity merely shakes his head again. You're getting a little annoyed by that gesture, even if it's one of the few ways he can actually communicate with you coherently.

Your arms cross beneath your chest, not so much mad as you are confused. " Aren't you technically supposed to obey me? "

The doll shakes with laughter again, and part of you almost wants to push him right off the bed, hormones still jumping in your system. He wags an index again, then wiggles his fingers above his head, between his horns.

As he repeats the motion, you can finally focus enough to make sense of it. He's trying to imitate the blob of energy that his master sports between his own horns. That little thing you've tried to grab before even though it's touch averse, slipping between your digits right at the moment you think you've got it.

The message is clear- He obeys to Zizz specifically.

You make a 'tsk', rolling your eyes at the monster. " So you're not going to help me? "

Another shake.

" Not even a liiittle bit? " And you reach a hand beneath the silk of his dark bow, scratching at his chin.

The contact has him leaning instantly, attitude faltering, his response coming in a clumsy shrug. A sort of "We'll see".

Fine.

Undettered, you offer him no more sweet talk when you resume the previous pace, caring none for his comfort as you steady yourself on his abdomen to harshly thrust your hips on his leg, almost jostling him for a second. The plush monster's tail wags near violently, apparently loving this newfound roughness.

You're not sure what has him so enthusiastic out of nowhere, but any suspicion drops immediately at the first hint of the bumping and grinding his own leg against your twitching cunt, hands eagerly helping you spread yourself. He practically fucks you onto him, seeming to shiver in his own weird manner at the high and whiny noises you belt out.

When your orgasm crashes upon you, the pink creature doesn't slow down, making sure to milk it as hard as he can, he himself enjoying getting humped while you finish, soaking him further in your arousal. Your legs are still rocking gently, the first aftershocks settling in when-

" I'm glad you were able to entertain yourself. "

The way you jump off the monster nearly has your soul leaping out of your throat when you whirl around to find none other than Zizz sitting by the edge of the bed, chin framed by his palms as if he were watching a movie unfurl.

" D- Did-? " How long was he actually here for? How come he manages to be as silent as a mouse when he's so huge?! " I'm so sorry- "

The demonlord huffs. " For... What exactly? "

" I- Well- Your-...? " You glance beneath yourself to the plush monster still laying beneath you with a slightly smug smirk on his face.

Zizz nudges you off the doll carefully, tugging him down closer with a lot less care as he removes his veil. Wide eyes blink in panic, you assume he's going to maybe hurt the entity or chastise you for making a mess of his treasured collection piece- But surprisingly, he clutches the toy's leg and casually licks the slick of your climax that wasn't rapidly absorbed by yarn.

O-Oh okay.

The other seems to like this well enough, letting himself ragdoll, once again wagging that jingling appendage.

" ... He was only doing his job. "

The King releases his minion, sparing you a lidded look.

" You can use me now. "

(As a bonus, here's what the ""doll"" looks like.)

#Zizz oc #pinnie's art #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato tag #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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writingshushf1 · 1 year

Text

Does your mother know?

Summary: "Now you're so cute, I like your style And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile"

When a new Ferrari driver crosses paths with the one and only Sebastian Vettel.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, age gap, grief/mourning, slight mdom vibes, y/n being a brat, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 4.8k

Note: more filthy fiction w/ seb! they have a 8/10 year age gap, if that bothers you- don’t read!

masterlist

There's that look in your eyes I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild Ah, but girl, you're only a child

You were the new Ferrari driver. That was amazing, you weren't the first AFAB racing, yet the only one to get in a position as high as that, in a top team. Charles Leclerc was your teammate and you knew him before, you were good friends, you often went out with him and his younger brother, who was closer to your age. The pre-season tests in Bahrain happened, but you didn't talk to the other drivers, more out of insecurity and fear of someone judging you, you preferred to stay in your corner, studying about the car and its possibilities.

Thursday and the day went very well, just press conference day. You saw some drivers, said hello and introduced yourself, but nothing too big, because the focus was different.

Friday was the day. Free practice to test how ready the car was for your style of racing. You arrived early and had lunch alone at the Ferrari hospitality, waiting for the weather to get milder so you could do the paddock walk. When you decided to go, you found Sebastian Vettel doing the same, alone; as soon as he saw you, he started to slow down to keep the same pace. Initially, you preferred to stay silent, you didn't want to bother him anyway - and as you consider yourself an annoying person in general, it would be better to keep your mouth shut anyway. He probably noticed your insecurity-and in a way, fear-of starting a conversation, so he decided to start it.

"Welcome to Formula 1." He smiled and you couldn't deny it, he had his charm. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I hope it was only the good stuff."

"Of course, the newest Scuderia Ferrari driver, who has had an impressive year in Formula 2 and clearly a great contender to take the lead away from the Red Bulls. As well as being the youngest female driver to win that position."

"I'm not that young."

"But you're younger than me, that's for sure." He chuckled low, patting her on the shoulder twice.

"Like you're that old."

"Death is already knocking on my door." You couldn't hold back your laugh and he discreetly paid attention to your reaction, smiling. "Anyway, how are your expectations for the weekend?"

"Great. I hope... Actually, I will get on the podium on Sunday."

"Ambitious, that's what I find amazing about you younger drivers."

"Like you were not the same in your Red Bull days."

"So I've got a fan?" The suggestive tone in Sebastian's voice at that moment didn't arouse anything in you, in your opinion, he was just joining in the fun.

"How could I not? I always saw you as a role model. Especially with your more recent community work.... In fact, if you need someone one day, I'm a person who has a pretty free schedule."

"I'd love to. Mick usually joins me too. Have you met him? You two would become good friends."

"He was from the Ferrari academy, obviously! It's years since I've seen him properly."

You may have understood a pretext that he wanted to set you up with the younger Schumacher, but preferred to ignore - well, that wasn’t actually the case for the moment, he just treated the younger boy as one of his kids. You said your goodbyes, as soon began what you had been waiting for all day.

Practice had been great, the car was living up to your expectations, so the podium you were counting on would come out on Sunday and you could prove to everyone who doubted your ability that yes, you deserved to be among the best. You were radiant, the team director even asked if there was something wrong, since most of the time you remained serious, without smiles and ready to kill someone if necessary; it was as if you could be who you always wanted to be, it was a hard way and the criticism would never stop, but nothing could take away what you were feeling. Going back to your motorhome - since you preferred to spend the weekend there and not in a decent hotel - you saw Vettel walking with his head down, taking his bike and leaving; you thought about saying hello, but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and maybe he wanted to be without anyone in his ears babbling about random things

Meanwhile, on the way back to the hotel, the German's mind could only think of one thing: Ferrari's new driver. Sebastian was conflicted by the conversation with you during the walk, it was strange for him, seeing such a beautiful person and feeling that buzz in his stomach, something he hadn't felt for months. Since Hanna died , he had completely shut down; just thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, because it was hard to live alone after spending since your teenage years by the side of someone you loved, a person who built a family - that now, he juggled between leaving the kids with her family and yours, trying to see them whenever you had a break from racing and that action made you feel guilty, of them not having their father there when they needed him the most. The grief had consumed his body, the first months the only thing that got him out of bed were the race weekends, but with each defeat, his mind weighed more and more; months later, he finally decided to start therapy, he needed to be getting better mentally, he couldn't stay in this situation forever, for the kids, for the team and for everyone that counted on him; and it helped a little, the depression was easier to deal with, the days were lighter, even though the feeling was there. Even though the beaming smile was back around the Paddock and his volunteering to help the environment was back in full swing, it still wasn't enough to make him optimistic about living, even though two years had passed since the whole tragedy and sometimes Hanna's voice came in his head, telling him to move on. For that reason, seeing you walking beside him, smiling and being interested left him with this strange feeling, of a piece of the puzzle finally being found again. He quickly cleared that thought away, it wasn't what he was thinking at all, it was just a happiness to see a person like you on the track - and even if it was a little flare of romance, you were too young for him.

This grief stage wasn’t over, of course, even though he was in the last step: acceptance, although it still hurt deep in his heart and because of it, for a while he hadn’t made the best decisions for his life, however, that stayed only with him. Vettel didn’t open up about it with anyone for a while, friends would come and talk to him, but they only received nods and “I’m fine” type of responses, until the first anniversary of her death, during a Saturday post qualy, where he broke down during an interview and Mick took him back to his driver’s room, on that afternoon he blurted all his feelings out, all the shit he had done during this period, only for two people, Mick and Lewis. Nowadays, he still wasn’t 100% back on his feet again, however, he was trying his best and maybe, the new rookie had something to do with this new motivation.

…..................................................

Your first race was a success, as hard as it was, p3 came with a taste of victory. That night you chose not to go out and celebrate, you were too tired, because something they didn't tell you before was how the car would suck your energy - it was different to what you were used to in Formula 2.

The weeks and your next races were going well, lots of podiums and scoring zones, but still no wins. The situation of not having any wins yet was driving you crazy, no matter how flawless your performance was, the media was starting to get on your nerves with harsh criticism and you hated to admit it, but it annoyed you having to listen to this negativity while other drivers with cars with equal or better machinery than yours who are still winless were getting nothing but praise. The highlight of the week was on Saturday, after an accident during qualifying, you were in Q3 and ready to take your first pole position, but due to Norris braking hard during an 'S' corner in front of you, there was no time to slow down, your car hit the back of the number 4 McLaren, bringing both of them off track and subsequently causing your current times to be deleted and a red flag. You were angry with him and were ready to cuss him out, however after a rather lengthy conversation while your cars returned to the pits, he acknowledged his mistake and you worked it out; even though he admitted it in the post qualifying interviews, there were still allegations and questions about the possible crash being your fault, which made you so angry that he ended the interviews earlier than the others.

On Sunday, even if you started P9, you would do your best to win at Imola, it was a question of honour. You changed strategies with your team, talked to everyone and tried to be as assertive as possible, you knew that they had the ability to make this win happen. Nervousness was running inside you, it seemed that the world would end as soon as the lights turned off. The race was fine, already at the start you had already got p5, the tyre changes were in the time that you had stipulated with the team of what would be better and could hold the others until the end. In the last two laps you were less than a second behind first place, which at the moment was Max, and you wouldn't hesitate to pass him no matter what. Seconds before you crossed the win line, you accelerated the car harder than before, hearing the engine squelching, however it wasn't the moment to stop, not until you passed him; that's what happened, seeing the chequered flag in front of everyone else.

"P1, you are p1." Your response was just to shout back, he was very happy and didn't know what to say.

"P1 piccolina ! You did it." You heard your engineer say on the radio.

"And Charles?" Your voice was still euphoric, you wanted to know where your teammate was standing too.

“P3.”

The interviewers this time were kinder, with several people stopping you and congratulating you on the flawless race you had run. This time you deserved quite a party.

In these weeks you got closer to Vettel, he became a great friend and mentor. You admired him a lot, because he was always a great example and to be able to call him a friend was a privilege, so you didn't hesitate to go and bother him after the race, knocking on the door of his motor home - you knew that he hadn't gone back to the hotel yet, as he always warned you and offered you company on the way back.

"What's up?" his tone of voice was not the most welcoming, maybe he wanted to be alone, however the moment he opened the door and saw it was you, his expression lightened. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Um... So, I won the race..."

"I know... I gave you a hug right after." He cracked a smile, a little confused by the situation.

"Me and a few other drivers... Almost all of them actually, we're going out tonight, it's a nightclub.... I know it's not your style, but it's a celebration and I'd love for you to go." Your face was turning red, it was such a simple request, but you wanted to hide because of sudden shyness. "We reserved some tables near the smaller dance floor, because not everyone is a fan of dancing."

"Do I really need to?" He whined, grimacing and leaning against the stopper.

"Please... Make that sacrifice for me." You gave him the puppy dog look.

He looked at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not it was really worth it to hang out with several young pilots in a nightclub. "Okay. For you, I'll go." He snapped, sighing loudly, and you gave the German a hug, squealing loudly.

"I'll give you the address! Wear something cool and that doesn't make you look like a middle-aged school teacher."

"Hey! That's an insult against my style."

It was almost 10 o'clock at night, you had just put on your high heels, finally ready; Charles was texting you five times a second, telling you to hurry or he would go alone and you would miss your ride.

When you arrived at the nightclub, you went quickly to the group where the other pilots were, greeting them and drinking your first shot of tequila to open the night properly. Half an hour later, from far away you saw curly blond hair entering the place and at the same moment you knew who it was: Sebastian; he arrived shyly, saying hello to everyone, getting close to you, who gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. You noticed that he took your advice about the outfit, this time wearing light brown jeans, a white tank top with a larger dark green short-sleeved button-up shirt and some black sneakers, but what took your breath away was his hair up in a loose bun with a few strands falling off. Maybe you checked him vigorously, but you could blame the alcohol.

"You're not sober." He commented, discreetly checking your look.

"And you won't be either," And then you handed him a bottle of beer - because you knew he liked it.

Sebastian felt guilty that he was checking your body every five minutes, a conscious voice in his head screamed that you were too young for him, too innocent - I mean, not so innocent, but that made him even more curious. His thoughts were dissipated when he saw you turning a shot of some coloured liquid, paying more attention on what you were going to do or react, his protective instinct was above the desire of wanting you; he didn't comment anything, just watched, disassociating a little bit of reality, having again that little voice that he didn't fit with the others there, that he was too old for this generation.

A few more shots and drinks in, your body already felt lighter. You were chatting with Gasly and Ricciardo, until they came up with the idea of everyone hitting the dance floor - even if most of them weren't the best dancers or didn’t like to, however, when all of them are at least tipsy, they don’t even think before abandoning the tables to go. Vettel hesitated to go with them, so you patted Daniel on the back and said you would be dancing in a few minutes.

“Hey… Don’t you wanna go with us?” You put your hand on his shoulder, looking at him.

“I don’t feel like dancing.” He didn’t look back at you, something was wrong.

“Is something bothering you? You can go if you’re not feeling good here.” Maybe it was the drunk you, but you placed your hand in his neck, making him look at you. “I’m not gonna be upset if you leave. We talked, drinked and it’s okay if you want to go.”

He was hesitating, he didn't know whether to leave or stay there, moments like that were hard; Sebastian was never someone so social, of course in his Red Bull years he partied a lot, but it was never his favourite thing to do. The German looked around and then deposited his eyes on you, still conflicted with all his thoughts running through his head. His biggest dilemma at the moment was about the Ferrari driver, whether he would stay for her, dance along and have fun, finally let go and be able to live a little, move on, on the other hand, this feeling of leaving the past behind was overwhelming. He stood for a few more seconds thinking, while you waited; "what could possibly go wrong?", "what am I being so afraid of?", "why couldn't I make out a little?" , then he sighed low, grabbed another bottle of beer and cracked a smile.

"Let's go to the dance floor." He held her hand. "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" Tu asked, not sure what exactly he was talking about.

"Grieving." You didn't know how to answer, for a moment you had forgotten he was a widower, so you just guided him into the huddle of people, squeezing his hand.

You started to dance, letting your body free, it was nice to be able to move to the beat without someone being able to judge you. Daniel came over with two shots of vodka for you, you drank them both quickly and giggled quietly, watching him do the same. This time, the drink hit a little harder, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more and more. As a result, your movements were dirtier, rolling your hips on your own while your friends were glued to unknown girls or dancing shamefully while drinking. Meanwhile Vettel was trying to dance with the younger drivers, but he felt out of place, he wasn't as young as them anymore, so after a while he started to walk past people to walk back to the table, but he caught your eye first.

"Stay dancing here with me." You held his arm, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure? Because… I can see what you want, but you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun… So maybe I'm not the one to be dancing, call Mick or Charles.

“Stop with this no sense!” You blurted the words, laughing. “Just follow the rhythm, look."

Chloe's song 'Have mercy' started playing and you cracked a smile, starting to move your body slowly, maybe you weren't noticing, but it was in a sexy way that turned Sebastian red, looking sideways until you put your arms around his neck, catching his attention.

"Keep moving with me." He placed his hands on your waist, slowly getting more into the rhythm.

You both forgot about the world around you, dancing just for each other, with your bodies glued together and embarrassed smiles as you tried to keep in rhythm until the song ended. He pulled away a little, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Montero” by Lil Nas X started playing and you cracked a big smile, turning your back to him and letting the older pilot's hands on your waist, rolling your hips against him. It took a few instants before he understood and got into the rhythm, loosening up and starting to have fun with you.

“Does your mother know you dance to older men like that?” He whispered, travelling his hands around your body.

What had happened after, was that you had spent it together, drinking even more and dancing more overtly, which the others noticed-especially Daniel and Charles, who were closer to you, but they would let the matter die. The point of leaving was when the blonde was really wanting to kiss you, but the last shred of notion he had showed.

"Let's go to the hotel." He muttered, with his accent stronger than usual.

You didn't even say goodbye to anyone, you just hailed a taxi and went to his hotel, arriving there and making sure no one saw you together. When you entered the room, he quickly locked the door and came close to you, passing his hands around your waist.

"I hope I didn't get the wrong signals." He then brought your face closer against his, initiating a sloppy kiss that you reciprocated at the same moment, slipping your arms around his shoulders and your hands stopping at his neck, caressing the spot. His tongue was already going against yours in a desperate rhythm, like he waited all night to be with you; when you broke it off to breathe, you looked at him, worried.

“Is it okay? To be kissing… I know you…” You started, but he put his finger on your lips.

“It’s okay… Let’s focus on us.”

So you kissed him again, this time with more urgency than before, allowing yourself to run your hands down his back, gripping the fabric of his button-down shirt. He broke the kiss this time, looking into your face for a few seconds, admiring you, before he started trailing kisses from the back of your ear to the collar of your dress, sucking and licking a few specific spots, which made you whimper with pleasure.

"Can I continue?" He asked as he touched the zip of your dress.

"You don't have to be so gentle, Seb."

"But you deserve it."

"And I say... You can be rough with me, I know you like it." You cracked a smile, disentangling yourself from him and sitting on the bed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, biting his lower lip before he started to move closer, standing between your legs.

“Oh… Since you like to be dominated…” His face got closer to yours where you could smell his breath, but didn’t kiss you. “Strip for me. Now.” He backed off, crossing his arms.

So this was a game and you would follow his rules, with a little bit of a twist. Slowly, you started taking away your high heels, then your panties that you put in his trouser pocket, with only a part of the red lace sticking out and finally you took your red lace bra off, putting it on the ground. Now, you were only wearing your tight black dress with your legs a little bit open while you waited for his response.

“The dress.”

“I want to keep it on.”

“I don’t remember you being in charge.” He whispered, holding your face with one hand. However, when he saw you like that, his body liked it for sure. “You can keep it on, but don’t disobey me again, okay baby?” You nodded.

He started to kiss your neck again, being rougher than before, biting and leaving marks you would regret in the next morning. Meanwhile, his hands were travelling around your body until they stayed at your breasts, pulling down the fabric just for them to pop out; Vettel looked a few seconds at your boobs, before starting to suck one and pinching the other nipple harshly. You moaned his name repeatedly, feeling your core dripping wet from the attention he gave to both of your breasts. Suddenly he stopped, earning a whine from you.

“Wait up, baby…” He backed off, getting on his knees on the floor - you never thought a man could look this hot on their knees.

He opened your legs, starting to kiss every single inch of your thighs in a provocative way and you just whined in the process, because you wanted him tasting you. “What?” He stopped, looking at you, the vision of a messy haired Vettel between your legs made you moan and throw your head back. “I need you to use your words.” As much as you wanted to say, nothing would come out, it was overwhelmingly good to just have that moment. “Lieb, use your words, I’m not going to say again.”

“I want you to taste me.” He looked at you, cracking up a smile.

Then he lowered his head again, leaving a few more kisses, especially on top of your core. The German’s tongue started to move around your clit, moving it in a tortuous pacing so you could feel every move of his; at the beginning you were already chanting his name, putting a hand on top of his head, holding his golden curls around your fingers. Unexpectedly he put two fingers inside you, moving in a quicker rhythm and curling the tips just a little bit, hitting that sweet spot of yours. What made you orgasm for the first time was that besides his fingers working it up inside you, he started to suck gently your clit - you were moaning incoherent words when you hit your climax. Looking at him when he lifted his face towards you with a smile, licking his lips made you let out a wimp, quickly pulling him up and you getting on your knees.

You kept looking at him while you undid his belt and pulled his trousers to the floor, however, his hard-looking dick with leaking pre-cum inside his boxers called more your attention. Slowly, you reached the bar of his underwear, pulling it down and seeing it; you looked up at him before he nodded so you could do what you wanted for a while. You let your tongue pass through his tip, focusing a bit on there, hearing him hold back moan. In one go, you had put his dick in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat, starting it to quickly bob up and down, finally hearing him groaning in pleasure. His hand reached your hair, guiding your head to go slower than you were. “I won’t last long… You’re too good for me.”

You pulled back, looking at him. “Then I want you to finish inside me.”

He smiled at your cockiness, taking the rest of his outfit and laying you on the bed, while he grabbed the condom and the lube.

“Do we have to use it?” You whined.

“Maybe next time we don’t.” He whispered, covering two fingers in lube and pushing them inside you. Him inside you like that made you whimper, looking at him.

“Please, just fuck me.”

“Patience, honey… I don’t want you to feel pain.”

He quickly slid on the condom and spread your legs to his sides, now getting even closer and placing his hands on your sides.

“Ready?”

You nodded, then he adjusted his dick in your entrance, moving in slowly until all of him was inside of you. Sebastian left little kisses up your neck when he saw you closing your eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, only starting to move when you gave him the signal to.

Your walls were clenching around him as he started to pick up his pace, going faster every thrust - this was near pornographic, you were both moaning each others name, fixing your gaze on each other. You could feel every single inch of him inside you going and your climax getting closer, letting your moans even louder - if that was possible. Then Vettel lowered one of his hands, starting to do circles around your clit with two fingers, which made you come for the second time of the night. The blonde wasn’t that far from reaching his either, his thrusts were more erratic and soon he groaned your name close to your ear, laying on top of you.

“That was… Wow.” You whispered, running your fingers along his back.

“Yeah, wow.” He kissed your cheek, slowly disconnecting both of your bodies, which made both of you groan with the sensation. He took off the condom, throwing away “Let’s take a shower before we go to sleep.”

“How clever, staying the night.” You got up, wrapping your arms around him.

After you took a warm shower together - that could have been shorter if you didn’t kept kissing and caressing each other, you two laid on his bed. You were wearing one of his old Ferrari t-shirts and he was only in his boxers, drinking wine - that he already had, from the bottle.

“I always had a crush on you…” You whispered, trailing his abdomen with your fingers. “Teenage me would be very happy, especially that she used to shamefully read smut about you on the internet.”

“Oh, wow… So I have always been your target?” He joked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s just… You’re too hot to not check out.”

“So I’m winning from younger drivers, with more energy to keep you up all night?” He was still being playful, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

“Well… You just fucked me and looks like would go for a second round.” You lowered your hand to his boxers. “Besides, I like more mature men, who know how to make me feel good.”

He was at a loss of words, your words had left him red in the face and his classic smile. He placed the wine on the bedside table and pulled your body up, starting to kiss you again.

That night, you still did it two more times, enjoying every second together.

Maybe it was wrong and you would regret in the morning everything you had done together, especially for your reputations within the sport, but that moment was about enjoying what life had to offer you.

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel smut #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction

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jay7543 · 27 days

Text

Your boyfriend Simon left one of his masks

Sfw

M4m

Feel free to make requests for stories/ scenarios you’d like to see, I’d be happy to make them!!!!

Not smut this time, just a little cutesy sfw thing, I’ll make another smut one soon. I just wanted a bit of ghost and the reader in a wholesome relationship, I hope you enjoy!!!!

You and Simon have been dating for a few months now. in fact, he’s the first guy you’ve dated since you came out as bi, he was really scary at first, with his skull mask and deep British accent, he’s also taller than you, but he’s really just such a sweet teddy bear. He loves you so much, every time you two go out he does everything in his power to make you happy and comfortable, and he may or may not have beaten the shit out of a few people who were harassing you, but he’d never tell you about that. One morning after waking up, you realize he’s already gone, you get a bit worried for a second before noticing a note on your pillow

Simon(note)- “got called in to work early love, didn’t wanna wake you, you just looked so bloody cute, see you later”

You smile as you read the note, but then you notice something lying on the nightstand on his side of the bed, one of his masks!! You reach over and grab it before smelling it deeply, it smells just like the cheap cologne he uses, you love it so much. You keep it clutched tightly in you hand as you get up and head to your kitchen for some early morning coffee. You push ghosts bag of coffee out of the way, he only drinks black and uses actual grounds, he’s gross. You on the other hand always drink the pods, in a multitude of flavors, you’ve tried to convince him to try it, going as far as filling his mug with the coffee you drink, he absolutely hated it.

After you drink your coffee you sit at the counter, bored, waiting for Simon to get back, just like you usually do, other than watching tv and reading. You decide to entertain yourself by putting on his mask, after sliding it over your hair and face, you immediately wonder why he wears these, it’s so itchy and hot, he has to sweat a lot. You don’t care though, because it’s his

Reader-“come here love, give me a kiss”

You say to yourself, trying to inmate his voice and accent as well as you can. As you do, you can’t help but laughing at yourself. He’d probably tease you or call you dumb, in an endearing way of course. After a bit of wearing his mask and doing some chores, you decide to finally take it off and wipe the sweat off your face, it’s really hot with it on, he even wears it during sex sometimes which you find extremely hot but can’t help but wonder how sweaty it gets. After a bit of contemplating on what to do next, you decide to get some stickers and the mask and head to the couch to relax as you “redecorate” his mask. You grab your favorite stickers, your bi pride stickers, and some of your anime stickers. You chuckle to yourself as you peel the stickers off the sheet and put them on his mask, putting a few bi flags on it, then some stickers of characters from your favorite anime.

After you finish you hold up the mask to admire your handiwork before laying it down on the table to watch some tv as you wait for Simon to come home. A few hours later you here his keys in the lock, you immediately shoot up and run to the door, as he walks in and you wrap your arms around him as tight as you can, kissing him all over his mask. He chuckles and carries you in and closes the door behind him

Simon-“I missed you too love”

He chuckles as he pulls his mask off to kiss you properly. He plants his lips on yours passionately for a few seconds before pulling away.

Simon-“so, how was your day love? I hope you weren’t too bored without me”

He smiles and looks down at your pretty face, your arms still wrapped tightly around him

Reader-“well…I didn’t really do that much”

You say with a bit of a blush on your cheeks. He raises an eyebrow as he calls your bluff

Simon-“you’re lying love, what did you do”

You look down to avoid his gaze

Reader-“well, promise you won’t be mad?”

He looks at you a bit confused as well as worried

Simon-“sure love, I promise, now what’d you do?”

You finally let go of him and lead him to the couch, where you were sitting with his mask, you grab it and show him

Reader-“you-you forgot one of your masks, I was bored, so I…decorated it”

You say with a deep blush on your face, hoping he’s not mad. He takes the mask from you and holds it in his hand and stares at it for a few seconds before speaking

Simon-“really? I mean, your stickers are cute, you know I like them, it’s why I bought them for you, but I need this mask”

He says a bit sternly, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You look down embarrassed

Reader-“I’m sorry, I just thought it would look cute”

He grabs your chin lifts it to look you in the eyes

Simon-“it is cute love, i honestly like it, but I do need to take them off”

He says with a smile and starts to peel one off carefully.

Reader-“wait! I-can you at least wear it tomorrow and send me a picture?

You say, not confident he’ll agree

Simon-“you mean, while I’m at work? With the other guys”

Reader-“y-yeah, I…please”

You pout and pull your famous puppy dog eyes with him. He sighs and chuckles a bit.

Simon-“bloody hell, fine love, I’ll wear it, now stop pouting”

He leans down and kisses you before patting the sticker back down to make sure it was still on. You smile and look up at him

Reader-“now all of your friends will know you have the best boyfriend”

He chuckles

Ghost-“yeah, yeah they will. Now let’s watch some tv”

He drags you onto the couch and cuddles with you as you two watch tv for the rest of the day.

The next day you wake up late, the same as yesterday, there’s a note on your pillow, the same message. But now you also have a message on your phone.

Simon(text)-“I wore it love, and the guys are teasing me, but I’ll keep wearing it because of how much I love you”

He also sent a picture like you wanted, it’s a basic selfie of him in the mask you decorated, his eyes look empty, probably because of the teasing, because he’ll do anything to make you happy, even embarrass himself at work. He’s the absolute best.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #m4m #gay #simon riley x reader #ghost x male reader #boyfriend #bisexual #relationship #fanfic

162 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 3 months

Text

In The Way I Need You | Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay tries to make amends with you, and you become even closer with joey.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Clay tried to bathe Joey as quickly as he could, because he knew you could walk out at any second. He wouldn’t be surprised if you skipped out on your payment again tonight and left while he was getting Joey ready for bed. He wouldn’t even blame you.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he said softly as he kissed Joey’s forehead. “I love you.”

He was asleep before Clay even left the room, making him tug off his tie with shaky fingers as he quickly headed towards the stairs.

God, he hoped you stayed. You didn’t say you would, but you also didn’t leave right away like he was sure you were going to. That was a good sign, right?

When he descended the stairs and saw you still sitting on the couch, he let out a sigh of relief before entering the room and moving to sit next to you, making sure to leave some space between you. “I’m happy you stayed,”

You trace the tip of your tongue along the backs of your upper teeth, and Clay struggled to keep his eyes locked on yours as you say, “I thought about leaving as soon as you went upstairs,”

Your confession, though it was one he expected, still had him feeling awful about what he did and said about you. “I’m really sorry,” he started. “I didn’t mean those things I said about you to my mother. It’s just…she’s..” He wasn’t sure where he was trying to go with this, and you clearly weren’t in the mood for excuses as you huffed and reached for your bag again.

“I get it. You don’t want your mom finding out you kissed the babysitter because she probably thinks of me as just a kid. Maybe you both do,” you mumbled and stood up. “Let’s just both be professional until I can find another job.”

Clay’s eyes widened at that as he stood up quickly, too. “What? You’re looking for another job?” When you nod at him, he asks, “Why?”

You laugh and place your bag onto your shoulder again. “I obviously can’t keep working for you since we went way over the professional aspect of our relationship. And you think I’m just some immature kid,” you bitterly recall the conversation he had with his mom yesterday. “I’m twenty, so nothing can happen between us, right?”

Clay closed his eyes tightly at the reminder of all the lies he said in order to get his mother off his case. He didn’t mean any of it, he just needed to say something that would give him time to think things through, and he knew now that he did want you. He knew that before, he just didn’t know what to do about it. “No,” he answered and you squint your eyes at him. “I like you, Y/n. I have since the minute I met you.”

You look away from him quickly and cross your arms. “We don’t know anything about each other, Clay,” you point out, but he was just happy you didn’t call him Mr. Beresford again.

“I want to know everything about you,” he said and watched with guilty eyes as you tense up a bit in a way to guard yourself from him. He hated it, but he understood why you were so hesitant around him right now.

When you finally meet his gaze, you sigh, “Clay,”

“I mean it,” he promised and sat back down again. He looked up at you as things were completely in your control at the moment, and you both knew it. “You’re not a kid, and I don’t think you’re immature. You’re actually one of the most mature people I’ve ever met.”

You drop your arms to your sides as you ask, “Then why did you say all of that stuff to your mom about me? And don’t give me some dumb excuse, or else I’ll leave right now,”

Clay nodded quickly, “My mother has always been really protective over me and who I give my heart to since it hasn’t worked properly for most of my life. When I met Joey’s mom, I didn’t think things through and I rushed that relationship, leaving me a single dad before I even reached my thirties,”

Your hard gaze softens and you sit down next to him again, unknowingly giving him more confidence to continue his embarrassing backstory.

“She tried to warn me about marrying her and starting a life with her since she was so sure Sam just wanted me for money. Then she got pregnant and stayed with me for about twelve more months after that and then I never saw her again,” he hated talking about Sam since the signs were so clearly there, he just never realized them until it was too late. It made him feel like an idiot for ever thinking she truly loved him. “I was depressed for months after and I had to take care of Joey by myself for the most part. My mom had to watch me spiral for a long time before I finally realized that Sam wasn’t coming back. I know she doesn’t want me to go back to how I was when Sam left me. She’s more protective over my heart than I am, but you already knew that since she told you about my condition less than an hour after meeting you.”

A small, barely-there smile forms on your lips before you look away and play with the bracelet on your wrist. “I know she’s protective over you, Clay,” you agree. “But that doesn’t explain why you said all that stuff about me. You sounded so serious when you said that us falling asleep together will never happen again and that nothing is going on between us when I thought there was.”

“There is,” he stated firmly, glancing down when he felt your knee brush against his. “There is something between us. I only said there wasn’t because I don’t want to have my mother be so invested in another relationship of mine. Maybe she was right about the first one, but I know what I want now. It’s you.”

Clay watches as a blush forms on your face before you break eye contact again. “How am I supposed to believe you?” You ask and Clay thinks about it for a second before he gets up, making you glance over at him.

“Stay here,” he requested, waiting until you gave him a confused nod before going back upstairs and walking straight to his nightstand. He grabbed the sticky note you had left for him the first night you babysat Joey before quickly heading back down. When he walked back into the living room, he saw how your pretty eyes gazed up at him in interest as he sat next to you again. “Here.”

He holds out the note and watches as realization takes over your features and how your lips curve up into a smile. “For the coolest kid’s dad,” you read the note after taking it from him, holding it as if it was the most fragile letter you’ve ever read. “You kept it.”

“It’s been stuck to my alarm clock since the first night you watched Joey,” he said and was powerless to fight the grin that formed on his lips when you turned your head to look over at him.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” you murmur in disbelief.

Clay had initially felt dumb for keeping it, since it was just a simple note you left him alongside the dinner you set aside for him, but the look you were giving him right now had him feeling nothing short of amazing. He was glad he went back for it after he threw it away when he came to the realization that he was into you. “Well, it meant a lot to me at the time,” he shrugged. “Means a lot to me now. And so do you.”

Your eyes stared into his as if you were trying to figure out if he was being truthful or not. He knew he was, and so did you as after you set the note aside, you take his hand in your smaller one and give him a conflicted smile. “Okay, so I guess I believe you,”

Clay laughed and ran this thumb along your knuckles. “Good, because I have and will always take you and us seriously,”

Your smile grows as you ask, “So we’re doing this?”

He laces his fingers with yours and nods. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed and leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him. You snuggle against his side and rest your head on his chest as your fingers play with his. “And I mean it, I want to know everything about you.”

You smile up at him. “Like what?”

Clay shrugged, “I don’t know, anything. What’s your favorite food? Color? What pet did you have growing up?”

Laughing loudly, you turn and pull your hand out of his so you can drape his arm around your shoulders instead. “Wow, those questions are very personal,” you tease as you tangle your fingers with his again. “Food…probably pizza, shocker, I know. Color, blue. And my parents never let me get a pet when I was a kid. Unless you count a fish I won at a fair I went to with my friend and her family that my mom flushed as soon as I walked through the door.”

Clay raised his brows as he tried to hold back a smile. “Wow, uh,” he trailed off. “Poor fish?”

You shake your head, “Poor fish,”

Clay kind of wanted to ask you about your family, but from what he already knew about them, you’re not close anymore. They were the reason you moved to Brooklyn by yourself, and were the reason you had to fend for yourself for most of your life.

He’ll let you tell him more about them if and when you’re ready to.

The time passed by quickly after that, and just as you lean up to kiss him, the front door opens and closes, and Clay sighs as he hears his mother’s footsteps ascend the stairs.

You stand up quickly and grab your bag again as you move a few feet away. Lilith enters the living room a few seconds later and looks between the two of you with an unreadable expression, and her brows raise as Clay stands up as well. “Hi, Mrs. Beresford,” you greet her with a small smile, and Clay was grateful for the fact that you didn’t force him to announce that you and he are…together? Is that what you were? Unofficially, of course, but you knew you wanted each other, and that was enough for now.

Fuck, he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet.

That will be next on his to do list.

“Hello, Y/n,” she says back and looks over at Clay. “Have you been home long, sweetheart?”

He knew what she was doing. She was trying to see if you and him had been talking for long before she got home, and he refused to give in and prove her right. “No, only a few minutes,”

He’d been home for well over an hour now, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” you add and step around her. “I got an early morning tomorrow.”

Lilith nodded as Clay moved to stand next to you after discreetly grabbing the sticky note and putting it in his pocket. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered and watched as you fought off a smile all the way down to the front door. “So…early morning tomorrow? Is that true or are you secretly a really good liar?”

You reach the bottom of the stairs and turn to him with a tight smile. “It’s actually true,” you tell him and he notices that you weren’t smiling like you were a minute ago. You looked nervous as you added, “I have a job interview tomorrow.”

That wiped Clay’s smile off his own face as he stepped closer to you. “Oh,”

“I can cancel it,” you quickly say but he shakes his head.

“No, you don’t have to,” he said back, taking your hands in his. “I want you to keep babysitting, but I also don’t want you to feel weird about me paying you now that we’re…you know.”

“Oh, you can’t pay me anymore, Clay,” you inform him. “I refuse to receive payments from the guy I’m seeing, or…whatever.”

Clay laughed, “Okay, so…go to that interview then,”

You tug on his hands a bit as you walk backwards towards the door. “I’ll miss you and Joey too much if I get a new job, though,”

Clay hummed, the smile returning to his lip at your words. “Okay….well, I can usually handle the kid just fine on my own in the mornings, so maybe you can ask for the day shift? Then you can hang out with Joey after. Or maybe find a weekend job? Eitherway, Joey and I would miss you, too, if we didn’t get to see you as often as we do now.”

You smile your pretty smile up at him before you both lean in and close the distance. Clay’s hands grip onto either side of your face while yours trail up his back before gripping his neck and pulling him closer to you. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the small noise you made as he pressed you against the door, and he knew he would be playing it on repeat until he saw you again.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull away but keep your face close to his. “I should go,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his with every word. “Your mom might get suspicious.”

Clay nods, pressing another deep kiss to your lips before pulling away and opening the door for you.

“I’ll wait, Clay,” you say quietly as you step out onto the stone steps. “I know you’re not ready to tell your mom, and maybe it’s too early to say this, but I’ll wait until you are.”

Clay gives you a grateful smile before stepping forward and kissing you one last time. “Text me when you get home,” he requested and you nod, giving him a wave as you step out onto the dark street.

You had a dumb smile on your face the whole way back home, and you knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon

Clay liked you back. He wanted to be with you in the way you want to be with him. You were sure you’re dreaming, and you didn’t want to wake up any time soon.

You were feeling giddy as you set your bag down onto your bed before sitting next to it and pulling out your phone.

I’m home and haven’t been able to stop smiling yet.

Clay Beresford: That makes two of us. I’ll see you tomorrow?

Definitely. I only like you for your cute kid, anyway.

Clay Beresford: I understand, but that still hurts. Goodnight, pretty girl.

You blush at the text and set your phone aside before getting up and heading over to your laptop. You knew now that you didn’t want to get a job that prevented you from babysitting Joey, even if you refused to be paid for it since you were…with Clay? Were you with Clay now? You didn’t even know.

All you knew was that you liked him. A lot. And you liked his son, and you wanted to keep babysitting him when he got home from school.

You pull up the job offer you responded to and read over the information posted with it. It was a simple cafe job and it had paid training if you get selected for it, and it also had a pretty relaxed schedule. The morning shift and evening shifts were hiring, as well as the weekend shifts.

The morning shift started at seven and went until one in the afternoon, so you’d still be able to pick Joey up from school if you were to get the job. You just wouldn’t have a lot of freetime, but it’s not like you did a whole lot anyway. You were pretty much alone since you moved away from your family and the few friends you kept after graduating high school.

It would be a great distraction from all of it.

Deciding against canceling your interview for the following morning, you close your laptop again and get ready for bed, a permanent smile stuck on your lips. After completing your night routine, you go back to your bag and take out Joey’s drawing. Placing it on the fridge, you admire the picture for a few seconds before heading back to your room.

The next morning you were a bit late waking up, leading you to quickly throw on a pair of light jeans and a white tee before grabbing your converse and fleeing your apartment.

The coffee shop was a few blocks down from your place, so you decided to save money on a cab fare and walk. You were a bit nervous as you sat down and waited for the owner, whose name was Jess, to come out. Your leg was bouncing under the table as you watched the customers come and go, and one looked a bit familiar as she waited for her coffee. You don’t think you have ever seen her before, but something about her seemed….familiar for some reason.

She had light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and when she looked over and smiled at you, you saw that she had perfectly straight white teeth. You felt a bit insecure just looking at her, so you returned the smile before quickly looking away just as Jess sat down across from you.

Jess had strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded you of both Clay and Joey’s, and she looked to be around your age, if not a few years older. As the interview went on, you learned that she had a similar backstory as you did, with her leaving her family home at the age of nineteen and opening up her own coffee shop. She used up all the money she’d been saving since she was fourteen and nearly lost it all until the cafe was given a great review that ended up saving her and allowing it to be her official source of income.

She was really nice and you bonded with her well. You hoped you got the job, but if not, you’d definitely visit and support her business anyway.

Once the interview was over, you had an hour or so before you had to go pick Joey up from school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see both him and Clay. Things were okay again, and even though you couldn’t do anything with Clay in front of his mom right now, you were still looking forward to seeing him once he got home from work.

While you still didn’t fully understand his situation with his ex and mom, you would keep quiet about it until he felt ready enough to further explain it to you.

You spent your time going to the nearest grocery store and picking up stuff to make tacos with, wanting to give Joey a bit of a different dinner tonight. After passing by the candy aisle, you think it over for a few seconds before pulling out your phone.

For no specific reason, does Joey like candy? If so, what kind? Once again, for no specific reason at all.

You weren’t expecting him to get back to you so quickly as you browse through possible options, planning on going for the healthiest unhealthy option if he wasn’t able to get back to you for a while.

Clay Beresford: He’s four. Of course he likes candy. Any kind. If you’re planning on getting him some, be prepared for me to pay you back.

You roll your eyes as you grab some Starbursts and Fun Dip before typing with one hand as you put the items onto the counter.

Don’t be such a dad. I’m not taking your money ever again.

Clay Beresford: The dad life chose me. Did you go to that interview? I meant to wish you luck earlier.

You smile at the lady behind the counter as she hands you back a plastic bag before leaving the store and starting the somewhat short walk to Clay’s house.

Yeah, I did. I appreciate it, but your luck wasn’t needed. Pretty sure I was the best candidate she’s had all week.

Clay Beresford: That’s good…so can Joe and I expect to lose you soon?

You smile at that as you cross the street, the same dumb grin from last night coming back in full swing.

Hopefully not…like I said, I’d miss you too much. Both of you.

Clay Beresford: Hopefully we won’t have to miss you, too.

You assume he went back to work after that as he didn’t reply to your teasing remark, leaving you to pocket your phone as you waited for the time to go by so you could pick Joey up from school.

An hour passes, and you are currently sitting at the kitchen table beside Joey. He was still telling you all about his day, and when you opened his backpack, you pulled out a few more drawings. One was of him and Clay, another was what you think is a dog and him hinting at something, and the last one was of you and him.

You hung all of them on the fridge before getting him a snack, which was a simple celery and cheese dip. It felt like no matter how much this kid ate, he was always hungry and didn’t gain a single pound.

You were in the middle of coloring in a flower when Joey suddenly says, “I wish I had a mom,”

The crayon fell from your fingers as you gazed up at him in surprise. He continued coloring in the lion you had drawn for him, seeming to not realize just how heartbreaking his words actually were. “What?” You couldn’t help but ask, grabbing the crayon again before it could roll off the table.

“All my friends have a mom,” he answered, looking up at you when he noticed that you had stopped coloring. “They make fun of me for not having one.”

Your brows furrow at that and suddenly you were mad at a bunch of four year olds. “Well, maybe they’re not your real friends if they make fun of you,” you offered and tried to go back to your flower, but you were beginning to feel sad for the poor kid beside you. “And you have your grandma, and your dad. They love you so much, Joey, you don’t really need a mom when you have them.” You weren’t sure if you should be saying that, but you didn’t know what else you could say.

Joey shrugged, handing you the orange crayon in exchange for the yellow one you were holding. “And you,” he said and you felt tears prick your eyes. You were sure Joey would be the cause of many of your tears since his story was a sad one, and you wished you could do something more for him but weren’t sure how.

“Yeah,” you whisper, reaching over and brushing his hair out of his face with a forced smile. “You have me, too.”

You watched him color for a bit after that before forcing yourself to get up and cook the beef for tacos. One messy dinner later, you send Joey off to the living room with the pack of Starbursts as you clean the kitchen. Tears were still burning your eyes as you heard the faint sound of the front door opening and closing, and it only got worse when you heard the sound of Joey laughing and Clay’s muffled voice from down the hall.

You were washing the plates when he entered the dining room and crossed over to the kitchen. “Hey,” he says quietly, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “How was your day?”

He leans in to brush his lips against your temple, and you hold back the sob that wanted to leave your mouth as you straighten up against his chest. “It was good,” you answered, and even you could hear the waver in your voice. Clay stiffens and you sigh as you turn your head away. “I’m sorry.”

Clay shakes his head and gently turns your body so you’re facing him. His gaze softens at the tears gathered in your eyes and he reaches one hand up to caress the side of your face, the other one reaching around you to turn the water off. “What’s wrong?”

You avoid eye contact as you shrug, pressing the heels of your hand against your eyes. “I feel like an idiot right now, Clay,” you mumble, laughing pathetically after.

He furrows his brows and gently grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, turning your head so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Talk to me,” he softly demanded. “What happened?”

You give him a strained sigh as you shake your head. “I just can’t believe that your bitch of an ex-wife left you and Joey. He’s so sweet and kind and….he’s a kid, Clay. How could she do that to him? To you?”

Clay gave you a small smile before leaning in and pressing a chaste but passionate kiss to your lips. “What brought this on?” He hummed when he pulled away and ran his hand up your back before tugging your body against his.

You rest your head against his chest and bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands. “Joey told me how much he wishes he had a mom and how the kids at school tease him for it,” you mumble. “I don’t know, it made me upset. And I probably shouldn’t be this upset, but I can’t help it. It’s not fair.”

Clay hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love that you’re upset about it. Means you care,” he murmured. “And you’re right, it’s not fair, but trust me when I say that we’re all better off without her, especially Joey.”

You give him a sad smile. “Still…I just wish there was more I could do for him….for all of you,”

Clay shook his head, leaning down to press another his to your temple. “You do so much for us already,” he assured you, leaning back against the counter and letting you settle between his arms and legs. “And Joey adores you. He gets so excited whenever I tell him that you’ll be the one picking him up from school and hanging out with him until I get home. You’ve made a big impact on him, baby, on all of us.”

You smile again, a blush forming on your face as you take in his words. “Thanks,” you whisper, then you realize that he just called you baby, and now you’re flustered all over again but for an entirely different reason.

He responds by kissing your forehead again. “I want to take you out,” he says and you raise your brows.

“Like…on a date?”

“Yeah,” he grins down at you. “On a date. I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we both need a break from this house. Maybe I can show you around the city? Since you’re so good at reading directions.”

“Hey,” you laugh and lightly slap his shoulder. “My inability to read directions is what led us to meeting. So, really, you should be glad that I rarely know where I’m going half the time.”

Clay laughed, too, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Believe me,” he murmured against your mouth. “I’m glad.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford #clay beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagine #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you

239 notes · View notes

eepywriters · 4 months

Note

I LOVED YOUR MESSAGES WITH QUACKITY ❤️❤️❤️

please do getting into an agrument with quackity headcanons please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😙😙🫣‼️💕💕🩷🩷

.✦°. • getting into an argument hcs (*´Д｀*)

warnings: a bit of angst and maybe a bit ooc? I tried 😞🤚🏻

a/n: HIII!! THANK U SO MUCH! It means a lot :D and sorry if it took so long ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ finals kicked my ass so I couldn’t write for a while BUT IM HERE SO LET’S GET INTO IT

EARLY INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

(thinking of a young, little experienced Alex)

Oh it’s jover

This could actually be something that could cause a breakup cuz let me tell you THIS MAN just can’t stand confrontation

If it’s something that bugged you, he’d probably understand your point of view but would also be very overwhelmed at the thought of losing you cause he hasn’t been good enough for you, resulting in him hyper focusing on his spiraling thoughts rather than listening to what you are saying

I feel like he’d also be the type to act like nothing happened right after an argument; he’d ignore the tense situation and make jokes to light up the mood and forget about it. He’s not dense, he knows it hurts you to see him seemingly ignore your feelings like that, but he’s not used to being listened so he ends up making his partner go trough his predicament as well

BUT it’s even worse if it’s something that bugged HIM; he probably wouldn’t tell you about it, much preferring to suck it up and don’t cause problems, even though he IS creating more problems

the underlying tension caused by his silence would bring the relationship to a breaking point:

1 you break up and the regret eats him up (probably also wouldn’t reach out again because of shame and a tiny bit of ego)

2 you talk about it cause it can’t go on like this

When I talk about bugging tho, I’m thinking about things that don’t surge an immediate reaction from him, because if he’s mad, he’s mad.

He’s the venomous type, forget his silence and self pity, he’ll probably laugh in your face in irritation and say whatever the fuck he thinks

He’ll retreat to his office as soon as he sees the hurt in your face, understanding he went to far and going back to he’s usual silence, ending up giving you the silence treatment. (he also feels incredibly ashamed) (he’ll just stay in his office all day, editing mindlessly since his mind is anywhere but in the work he’s doing)

He’ll either leave you alone in bed that day, making you sulk and feel as lonely as ever, or will sleep with you but it’ll be the coldest shit ever (like the typical movie scene where two people sleep super afar from each other)

Don’t misunderstand tho, he does feel guilty, he just struggles with communicating his feelings properly (*´ー｀*)

“(Name) I’m not a child, stop acting like you are my fucking mom” he spat, a look of indignation spreading on his features, shaping his otherwise gentle appearance into a strong, furious one.

“Cant you understand that I’m worried about you?” you strike back, jaw impossibly tightened “I understand that you’re very dedicated to your job, but you can’t get yourself to this state.” You sigh, not able to keep up the mad act: “You look very tired Alex”.

You take a tentative step towards him, determined to show him you weren’t scolding him, nor were you mad at him. You were trying to establish contact with him, not start a fight, after all your irritation came from worry, not anger. But he didn’t receive that well. His brows scrunching even further while his mouth twitches downwards.

“Stop acting like I’m some fucking rabid animal. I can take care of myself just fine, I don’t need a fucking babysitter”.

Seems that wasn’t the right move.

The way he was saying your name was probably what hurt the most. You find yourself missing the gentle tone he usually reserved to it when spoken.

“What are you even saying?” you breathe out, your voice being so fragile you almost don’t recognize it as your own. “Do you hear what you are saying? You are being impossible Alex”.

At this point his foot is stomping nervously on the floor. He’s getting annoyed by the minute and he can’t wait to forget about this tense situation. Arguments always put him on edge, but instead of working on the root cause of his discomfort, he always had preferred to just get himself out of the mess as soon as possible. (He hadn’t yet grasped how much that could hurt others). And that’s why, out of everything he could’ve gone, he replied with the one of the most uncalled for things he could ever come up with.

“Maybe instead of worrying about me, you should take a good look at yourself first”.

And you know what he was trying to entail.

You were never insecure of your dark circles, or at least, it wasn’t something that bugged you on the daily ever since you had found a common ground with Alex, knowing he struggled with very prominent circles cause of his lack of sleep. But for someone like him, who always had a hard time with his appearance, to clap back at you by going for your looks? Foul. Unexpected. Not like him at all.

You were sure he could tell from the look of disbelief on your face that he had fucked up.

Alex’s breathing keeps up, his chest constricts, and the anger and the pride that he has wearing like a tailored suit are stripped out of him at the sight of your frown. His mind goes haywire trying to come up with any response.

Maybe if you would’ve known him better by then, you would’ve known how terrified he was of your judgment. Even though his fame often had him deal with horrible comments filled with free hate, if judgement came from you, it scarred 100 times more than anything could ever do.

“Just leave it be, I’m fine” it’s all he mutters before booking it and hiding himself in his office, leaving you to stand there, in the middle of your living room.

Tears prickle your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment and your lip begs you for mercy as you bite into it.

God, why was communicating so difficult in this house?

LONG INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

It took time, it took healing, it took sitting down and TALKING to finally find your balance

He’s still pretty much venomous when it comes to immediate triggers, but after you are both done fighting and cursing each other out, you talk about it and come out of it somewhat unscathed

Anger isn’t easy to control or refrain after all, but you both try your best, and you are able to make up most of the times without falling into old dynamics of silent treatment or isolation

If something bugs him, he most likely will tell you; he is hesitant about it, but after many nights spent in your arms, he starts to let go on some of his biggest worries (anxiety still gnaws at his core every time he opens his mouth though, that doesn’t get old at all)

If something bugs you, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation anymore; he’s not perfect at it either, he still feels the urge to run away and laugh about it all, but he’s gotten way better at it

He’s still very scared of you having a negative opinion about him, but now you know him well enough to spend some extra time to reassure him that you won’t stop loving him for a petty fight, and that arguments in relationship are important to grow not only as a couple, but as people too

“(Name)” he calls out, and you instantly recognize the hint of anxiety that he’s trying to hide from you.

“Yes honey?” you reply, taking your eyes off your phone to stare into his pretty, brown ones. They screamed stress, fear, yet also determination. He did so much progress compared to the beginnings of your relationship. You were proud of him.

Alex took a deep breath before saying: “Uhm, It’s about the photo of us you posted earlier”. You could practically smell the tension in the air. His body is stiff, his chest is heaving, but your gaze is captured by his fingers and by how his nails are digging into them continuously, tearing his already red skin.

You take his hands in yours, preventing him from doing further damage to his poor, abused fingers. You knew he does it as a way to ground himself, but he really needed to find a new coping method - one that didn’t feature him torturing his body if possible.

He stares at his hands in yours for a while. You don’t say anything, allowing him to take his time.

“Okay fuck it” Alex whispers under his breath, so quietly you almost miss it.

“It makes me feel insecure, I don’t like it” he admits, keeping his focus on your hands as he munches his bottom lip nervously. You, in response, draw slow circles on his hands, offering him a gentle smile.

“Can you delete it..?” he sounds unsure, like he’s testing the waters instead of actually making a request. Either way you welcome it.

You put one of your fingers under his chin, gently applying pressure for him to lift his head, just enough to look at you. “Of course I can. Thank you for telling me Alex, I know it’s hard”. His once tense body relaxes.

He avoids your tender gaze, seemingly preferring to stare at the floor, yet you see the soft blush that was quickly taking over his cheeks. You also can’t help but notice that he already had found his charming smile back.

“Stop looking at me like that” he mumbles as his smile spreads. Uh oh, that can only mean trouble.

“Like what” your eyes narrow, not trusting his new found confidence.

“Like this”.

His imitation is pitiful: furrowed eyebrows, small frown and large puppy dog eyes. The more you look at him, the more he reminds you of that one emo guy that kind of looks like him (he definitely does). He looks ridiculous. How did you even fall in love with this dude?

You slap his arm, scoffing out a laugh as you look at him incredulous: “I don’t look like that!”.

“I think you do” he says with a smug tone, one that makes you want to hit him with a pillow till he goes back to sleep. And maybe you just will.

“Oh it’s on you motherf-“

The room was filled with laughter instead of unconfortable, loud silence.

(first post of 2024 yippiee)

#quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity fanfic #qsmp x reader #first request #yippie

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freelancearsonist · 2 months

Text

Hold Me Like a Knife

Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Rated MA for p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjobs, smoking/nicotine use, excessive drinking, characters not knowing how to handle emotions properly (same), ANGST [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

6,003 Words

A/N: thank you to the lovely @shakespeareanwannabe for being my ever faithful beta reader ily 🥺

Smoke disperses in abstract swirls from Joel’s parted lips, the tang of nicotine making his taste buds prickle. It’s been a long time since he’s been afforded the luxury of a cigarette and this first drag makes him think he might not want to pick the habit back up, after all. But you worked hard to find these for him after he mentioned he missed having a smoke, and he’s not one to let a gift go unappreciated. Especially now that gifts are off the table.

It’s become routine at this point. Waking up in the middle of the night; reaching for you, realizing all over again that you’re not there anymore; ruminating on what’s happened, how he’s taken you for granted. At least he has his cigarette to keep him company.

There’s no chance of going back to sleep for him–it’s 4AM anyway, close enough to a full night’s sleep. He takes another drag and decides it’s not as bad anymore. He just needs to get reacclimated to it.

He only allows himself to savor half the cigarette before he stubs it out in the ashtray on the nightstand–another gift from you–to save for next time he needs it. He wants to make this pack last; he doesn’t care as much about maintaining the habit as he does about having any little piece of you he can.

Two hours later, he’s bathed to the best of his ability given the stunted resources in the quarantine zone and ready for another day in hell.

He didn’t hate it nearly as much until he started working with you again.

When you see him you wear the same soft smile you always do, nodding your head in greeting as if nothing is wrong. His face remains flat as he nods back. Nothing he can do but play along–pretend you were never his to lose in the first place. After all, if you haven’t heard his heart fracturing into a million pieces by now, you never will.

“Either quit starin’ or go over there and talk to her,” Tess tells him sternly. He immediately snaps his eyes away and tries to shoot her a glare, but he’s a bit too embarrassed for it to actually land.

“M’not starin’,” he grunts.

She actually almost cracks a smile at his denial. “The hell you’re not, you look like a lost puppy. Why don’t you talk to her?”

“She ain’t interested in talkin’.”

“Bullshit. That’s all she wants.”

Maybe Tess is right. Maybe he’s the one who’s afraid. He’s not going to admit that, though.

“If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come talk to me.”

“You probably scared her off.”

Joel slams his hand against the wagon bed, startling everyone within a ten meter radius except Tess. “That’s enough.”

“Touchy.” Tess rolls her eyes but backs off nonetheless, not interested in poking the bear any further.

Joel lets it go and turns his attention back to his assigned job for the day, mentally preparing himself for another night of washing the stench of death from himself and his clothes. Normally, you would do it for him without complaining. Now it’s just another addition to the list of efforts he didn’t appreciate enough while he had you.

Even though he dreads the consequences, he allows himself to become completely preoccupied with his work in a way he normally wouldn’t. It’s a reprieve from the constant swirling of his mind, from the overthinking that keeps him up at night or invades his dreams when he finally finds rest.

The day is over far too soon, and then he’s back in his little apartment with nothing but his own mind for company.

His mind hasn’t been a friend lately.

He looks around and everywhere his dark amber eyes catch, he sees you. You sprawled on the worn couch underneath a threadbare blanket, you swaying your hips to the rhythm of silent music in the kitchen, you casually dropping the towel wrapped around your naked body to the floor as you step out of the shower and lure him down the hall to the bedroom.

He wants to crawl into a deep, dark pit when he remembers what he said and how he chased you away. Your only sin was introducing him to someone as your man, and he played like he was upset about it because that’s not what this was ever supposed to be. There had been an agreement, in the beginning, that feelings wouldn’t be involved. It would be you, him, separate, occasionally helping each other out.

It so quickly turned into you and him, so inseparable you were practically living together. Neither of you even tried to stop it despite the agreement. And Joel was fine with it, liked it even. Until it was put into words.

Because he’s not supposed to be anyone’s. He’s Joel Miller, and he’s not deserving of belonging to anyone; including himself.

He didn’t mean to push you away. It was more out of instinct, an inborn urge to self-destruct.

The instinct has won, because he feels like mere pieces at this point. Like you’ve taken a sledgehammer to his heart repeatedly, which really isn’t fair to you. Space was his decision–you didn’t even fight it.

With a third of whiskey in his hand and an ache in his jaw from having it unconsciously clenched so long, he slumps down on his time-worn couch and begins a long night of rehashing mistakes and feeling bad for himself.

It could be so easily fixed if he just swallowed his pride. It’s a competition of will at this point–a game to see who can survive without the other for the longest. He hates that he’s losing, that it’s not affecting you; that even though it was his choice, he’s the one who’s suffering the most.

He must spill his drink–although he can’t find where it possibly could’ve been spilled, everything around him is dry–because it’s gone within a few minutes. He allows himself another glass as a reward for surviving a particularly shitty day.

When he comes to in the morning, there’s a pounding in his head so loud that it drowns out any other sound he might hear. It takes him a moment to realize that the pounding is on the door–then he processes how blinding the sun is coming through the slats of the tattered blinds precariously hanging over the window.

Joel pushes himself up from the couch with a grunt and stumbles a little, nearly falling right back into place. He curses himself for becoming such a lightweight as he stomps his way over to the door and throws it open.

“Jesus Christ, you reek,” Tess chokes, pushing past him to make her way inside. “I’ve only been knockin’ for ten minutes, what the hell were you doin’?”

“Sleeping,” he tells her with a pointed glare. It doesn’t ruffle her at all–it never does.

“Missed morning shift,” she notes. “How much you have to drink?”

“Not enough.”

“Alright, that’s it,” she tells him with a sigh. “It’s time to stop with the pity party if you’re not gonna play the hand you’re dealt. You know how stupid you’re being? She wants you. You want her. Two words’ll fix the whole thing and you’ll go right back to bein’ the disgusting little lovebirds you are. Apologize.”

“No,” he insists without thinking it over. Because he knows she’s right–he owes you an apology. And he also knows you’ll take him back the instant he delivers.

Which is exactly why he can’t. He knows he doesn’t deserve another chance to take you for granted. He didn’t appreciate you enough when he had you, and you deserve to find someone who will. Asking for another chance would be the most selfish thing he’s ever done, and Joel Miller is not a selfish man.

“Then drink yourself to death.” As much as Tess plays at being frustrated with him, he’s never seen her this legitimately upset. “I’m done cleanin’ up for you. You’re acting pathetic, Joel Miller. Get yourself together or get yourself over.”

And before he can stop her, apologize, beg, plead, do anything besides bite his tongue in pure shock, she’s gone. The slam of the door rings through his head for a good minute longer than it should.

All he can do is slump like a sack of potatoes onto the couch, his center of gravity off balance from the weight in his heart and the churning in his stomach.

It was never supposed to be like this; it was never supposed to get this far. You were supposed to fight him, demand he stay, do anything to make him feel like you really want to be with him. Instead, you acquiesced without resistance. You listened to his offer of space and accepted without hesitance. Almost like you were looking for an out.

That’s what hurts most, maybe. That you can still afford to smile at him like nothing ever happened between you when he feels like he’ll never smile again.

He knows he can’t lose Tess over this–she’s the only friend he’s got and a damned good business partner. He knows it’s time to clean up his act. What he doesn’t know is if he actually can without you by his side.

Baby steps. He decides to start by showering and changing his clothes; the freshness should make him feel astronomically better.

He lets the limited hot water run over his sore muscles and through his hair, trying to wash away memories of you along with the dirt and grime.

He thinks of long nights spent sneaking out after curfew–his pack heavy on his aching shoulders but barely feeling it when you’re so near. He thinks of nights in this apartment together, hours and hours spent reminiscing and planning new trips and even more hours spent in comfortable silence. He thinks of you on your knees in this very shower with him, of how he felt akin to a god beneath your praise and worship.

He lets the thoughts swirl for just a moment, and then he watches as they trickle down the drain.

A towel off and a change of clothes later, and he’s almost a new man. The hole in his chest has shrunk a bit, at least.

One deep breath, then another. Joel can almost feel you slipping through his fingers, and for once the sensation doesn’t terrify him. There’s a quiet solitude, a resignation to his mind now. He’ll never be happy, and that’s okay. He might at least be able to find peace if he can’t have you.

He finds Tess and apologizes–at least in the best fashion Joel Miller can manage. It’s a grunted “sorry” and not much more, but it’s enough.

And then, because he has nothing else to do with his free time, he throws himself completely into survival. Working long shifts at the fires during the day, and even longer shifts as a smuggler at night. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes deepen and his hair grays rapidly, but he finds a way out. He finds a way away from you, and he doesn’t hesitate to take it.

Somehow, you beat him to Jackson. He doesn’t know how–he’s sure you were still in Boston when he left–but you’re waiting there for him when he arrives.

Waiting maybe isn’t the best way of putting it; you look at him like you’re looking at a poltergeist. Not just a ghost of your past, but a volatile and unpredictable one at that.

He can’t blame you. He ditched you, after all–not just emotionally, but physically.

You observe from afar for a while, like a timid animal meeting its first human. You watch his reunion with his brother, how he seems to fit like a puzzle piece into such a tight knit community. You even see him interacting with the young girl he’s brought along with him, and you wonder if he’s changed. If maybe he’s allowed his heart to open even just the slightest fraction.

The whole of Jackson gathers to greet this newest member, and you’re on the very edge of the crowd. But it’s like there’s an invisible string connecting the two of you—like the sea of people parts to make a path for your reunion.

Joel doesn’t know what to say. It’s been so long, and yet it feels like just yesterday he still had you in his arms.

You nod at him and awkwardly shuffle your feet against the cracked pavement. ”Hey.”

”Hey.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for you.

You don’t show the same restraint.

In mere seconds you’re on him, arms around his neck and lips pressed to his like he’s air—like if you don’t breathe him in you’ll die.

He grunts in surprise at the suddenness, but more at the fact that he can’t believe this is happening. That you’re really here, really in his arms, really kissing him. He doesn’t know if it would be better to talk through everything first, but he’s missed you so badly that there doesn’t seem to be another way to communicate it other than to show you. His hands settle on your waist and pull you tightly against him, lips parting to allow your tongue access. It’s harsh and it’s frenzied, but it’s beautiful in the way a force of nature is.

And then you remember the prying eyes surrounding you and you reluctantly pull out of his grasp.

There’s a bit of muffled conversation and a particularly loud wolf-whistle from Tommy before the crowd disperses, and you’re alone together for the first time in more than a year.

”Sorry—“ “That was—”

He clears his throat, and you nod in signal for him to take his turn.

“How did you get here?”

“It was a fluke, really. I caught a radio broadcast and decided to check it out. The QZ didn’t feel like home anymore after you left.”

Joel tries as hard as he can not to read too far into that, but he can’t help the fleeting hope that it means you wanted to fix things. That maybe you weren’t as unbothered as you always seemed to be.

You clear your throat and continue. “But… what about you? Who’s the kid? Where’s Tess?”

”I’m takin’ the kid to the fireflies. Tess is gone.”

Your face falls instantly. You’ve admittedly always been a little bit jealous of Tess and her closeness to Joel, but you never wished this upon her.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Joel grunts noncommittally, and you’re left to awkwardly shuffle your feet while you think of something else to say. You’ve spent so much time apart, there should be so much more to talk about. But even in the QZ, talking was never your speciality—and it definitely wasn’t Joel’s. More than anything with him, you’re familiar with the comfortable silence that surrounds two people who’ve spent a lifetime together. Your lifetime with Joel just happened to be over the span of a couple of months; but that’s how it goes with someone who matches you so completely. There doesn’t have to be anything said when he already knows what you’re thinking—when you’re two parts of a whole.

”Sorry. About kissing you. I… I’m normally better controlled,” you mumble.

”Don’t be.” He clears his throat, shifts his feet—does everything within his power from making eye contact with you because he knows if he does he won’t be able to stop himself. “Wasn’t bad.”

”We did agree we weren’t gonna do that anymore,” you point out.

”That was back in the QZ.”

”And here?”

The hope in your voice is unmistakable. You’ve missed him, and that’s almost impossible for him to comprehend. Joel wants nothing more than to lean into your hope; to give you—and him—exactly what you want. You’ve missed out on so much time, and there’s little time available to make up for it.

Fuck it, he decides. “Here? I’m pullin’ my head out of my ass.”

And then he kisses you, and it’s not sweet. It burns—with passion, desire, regret. He presses his lips to yours like he’s finally realizing what he’s lost and might never get back. Joel Miller isn’t a man who can say sorry easily, but he says it to you now with his lips, and his tongue, and his hands.

It feels like you’re learning him all over again. You marvel at how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are as you run your palms across them. You revel in the softness of his lips and the contrasting scratch of his patchy beard. More than anything, you’re in awe of the feeling of his hands—how familiar they feel even after so long as they trail down your neck from your face on the way to your hips.

You pull away sooner than you want to, but you both seem to realize that you can’t just snog in the middle of the street. Most of the crowd has cleared out by now, but there’s a few sets of wandering eyes to worry about.

“Tommy didn’t happen to show you your house, did he?”

Joel’s brow furrows in the most adorable way as he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings.

“I have a house? Is that where he’s taken Ellie off to?”

“C’mon, follow me.” With a wave of your hand, you’re headed down the street. Joel stands frozen in disbelief for a moment, utterly dumbfounded that you’re really here and really still want him the way you used to. He has to jog the few steps to catch up to your side, and then every ounce of effort goes into not grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

You clear your throat in preparation for the question you have to ask. “I… I swear I don’t want to push labels or anything, but… what exactly is going on here?”

Joel sighs, and it’s easy to mistake it as a sigh of annoyance. You open your mouth to expand on your question, but he stops you.

”I made a mistake. I know it, I knew it while I was makin’ it. But I didn’t stop myself because… because you deserve better.”

You open your mouth again, and he holds up a hand to stop you. “Don’t argue. You know it’s true. And the thing is… I’ve spent a lot of time bein’ selfish, if fightin’ to survive can be called that. You’re good, and I don’t deserve to be selfish when it comes to you.”

”I want you to be selfish,” you insist as firmly as you can. “Joel, you don’t seem to understand how much I adore you, how much I rely on you. How much it hurt to lose you.”

He tries to shrug, but it’s half-hearted. There’s a kind of sick satisfaction to the fact that you were struggling just as much as he was. ”You seemed fine.”

”I was dying, Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now, and he feels guilty for insinuating that your pain wasn’t real.

”I was, too.”

”I just wish you would’ve talked to me,” you whisper. “I could’ve made it better. Things could’ve been different.”

”But they aren’t.” His tone is firm, but not malicious. He’s not trying to be mean—all he wants is for you to understand that there’s no point dwelling on the past. It’s something he’s learned over twenty years; that no matter how hard to focuses on all the mistakes he’s made and the things he regrets, there’s no way to undo any of them. No point in focusing on them at all, really.

”I… I miss you,” you tell him. “I don’t wanna keep going to bed alone and waking up wishing you were there. I don’t want to pretend we’re just friends with benefits or whatever the fuck we were supposed to have been. I don’t want to lose you over any more stupid arguments. I loved you, Joel. I still do.”

Joel swallows thickly. He’s known for a long time how he feels, and he also knows he doesn’t deserve to feel the way he does. Telling you might be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. ”I love you too.”

”Then can we… stop being stupid?” There’s a giggle behind your tears, and it brings the smallest of smiles to his face.

”Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He kisses you again, pausing on the steps of the house he’s supposed to occupy so he can pull you tightly into his arms. This one is sweeter, almost like a promise. Like he’s going to be a new man and this is his seal of authentication.

He scoops you up in his arms despite your squeal of protest, barely pausing enough to read the note on the door.

Took Ellie on a grand tour. We’ll meet y’all at dinner. - Tommy

You glance at your watch, then look up into his eyes. He’s thinking exactly what you are; his dark eyes are burning with tension. ”A whole hour of pure uninterrupted bliss. What’re we gonna do with ourselves?”

”I’ve got a couple ideas,” Joel grunts as he pushes the door open with his back, careful not to jostle you too much. “Startin’ with makin’ up for lost time.”

This time, he kisses you like you’re unbreakable. Like he’s diamond and testing your hardness, and you’re determined to meet his standards. You meet his lips with ferocity and take the initiative to slide your tongue over his bottom lip, reveling in the slight uptilt of his lips as he parts them for you.

You’re still in tune to his reactions, even after so long. You still know exactly where to pull his hair to make his hips buck towards you, where to kiss his neck to make him moan, where to place your hands so he’ll pull you impossibly tighter against him. He’s a puzzle you solved long ago, and even after taking the pieces apart you know where to put them back together again.

Joel’s head is all but spinning as he pulls you deeper inside, ignoring the urge to explore the unfamiliar surroundings for now in favor of finding a place that’s suitable to take you. He’s feverish and hurried, far from gentle because he knows he doesn’t need to be. You’re taking everything he’ll give and more. Later, there will be time for the gentle love-making that he admittedly prefers sometimes. For now, it’s desperate, wild, overwhelming in the best way possible. It’s getting reacquainted after so much time apart—old lovers using old tricks.

His hands have gotten rougher and even more calloused, but they remember you like it’s only been days since they were last on you. His palms trace every curve like you’re precious art. He holds you like water, like the slightest mishandle will send you spilling away from him; in complete contrast to the way he kisses you, harsh and nearly biting. It fogs your mind, sends you into autopilot. Your muscle memory takes command as you strip him bare and toss his clothes to the side, appreciating how little he’s changed besides the length of his hair and the extra gray that’s sprouted. He’s still your Joel, even after being apart for what seems like a lifetime.

”I never appreciated you enough,” he whispers into your neck as he unhooks your bra with a snap of his fingers. “Never worshiped you the way I should’ve.”

”I’m not a god,” you tell him, breath heavy even after parting from his lips.

”You are to me,” he mumbles into your skin, contrasting the honeyed praise with a stinging bite to the precise spot that makes your back arch.

He trails gentler bites down the flesh of your torso, leaving marks that contrast his statement. Gods aren’t meant to be owned, and yet he claims you in every way he can. He lays on you any little trace of his possession he can, because he knows how easily it could be taken away from him. He lost you once before, marks faded from your skin completely. He doesn’t ever want it to happen again.

The scent of you is heady, mouth-watering to a mind that was so sure it would never have you again. He knows he’s pressed for time, and he really does consider taking all of it to drink from you; to get his fill and leave himself unsatisfied if he has to.

But you’re whining and squirming, tugging at his hair in a feeble attempt to pull him up to you, and he knows he’d much rather give you what you want.

You’re wet enough to take him, but it’s still nearly painful when he pushes his full length into you for the first time in so long. He growls at the sensation, at every little pulse and flutter of your cunt around him as you struggle to accommodate him.

Your breath is airy and whiny as you glance up at him. ”Joel…”

”I know baby,” he coos, fighting for restraint so he doesn’t hurt you. “I know it’s a lot. But you can take it pretty girl, can’t you?”

You would take literally anything so long as he keeps talking to you like that.

You nod up at him, but it’s not enough.

”Words, honey. Tell me you can take me.”

He doesn’t miss the way your cunt contracts around him as you vow, “I can take you, Joel.”

”Atta girl.”

He starts off easy, slow enough not to overwhelm you but deep enough to nearly make you choke. His hips are flush with your ass at the base of every stroke, like he’s trying to push even further with each thrust of his hips. Maybe he is. Maybe all he wants is to get deeper and deeper until there’s nothing left out—until you’ve consumed him completely. He already feels halfway there as it is.

Your legs wrap around his waist in a desperate attempt to que him in on what you need—not long, languid strokes but hard, fast thrusts that’ll get the job done quickly. There is a time constraint to factor in, after all.

He grants your wish instantly, glad for the invitation because he’s finding it hard to continue his facade of self-control. He ruts hard and fiercely, one hand trailing from your waist to your knee so he can prop your leg up and allow an even deeper angle.

With the slightest shift of his hips he finds it—the spot that makes you writhe and scream for more. He revels in all the noises you make for him as you toss your head back and forth, like the pleasure is so overwhelming that you want to squirm away yet press closer simultaneously.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles as his free hand finds its way between your entangled bodies. It’s almost like you’re magnetic, his fingers find your clit so easily. The small, firm circles he rubs against it with his calloused fingers are almost too much, but also almost not enough. Not until he picks up his pace, drilling into exactly where you need him with a fervor you didn’t even know he possessed.

It takes all the effort you can muster to warn him, ”S-so close…”

”I know sweetie,” he purrs, breath heavy against your ear as he shifts his hand to hitch your leg just the slightest bit higher over his hip. “It’s okay. Let go f’me.”

You’re nothing if not obedient, and Joel knows it. It’s only confirmed by the way you squeeze around him in a vice grip, legs shaking in his grip as your eyes practically roll back in your head. It’s bone-shattering pleasure, like he’s pulling you apart stitch by stitch and sewing you back together again with newer, more pleasurable fabric.

He’s quick to pull out, maybe a little prematurely as you’re still twitching with the aftershocks of your own orgasm, but even his pleasure-addled brain knows the risk he runs if he stays buried deep inside you any longer. He gives himself two, three firm strokes, then allows himself to spill over your stomach in thick, hot ropes that make you moan all over again.

He doesn’t hold himself up much longer before collapsing on the too-soft mattress with a heavy grunt.

”Missed this,” you murmur next to his ear as he drapes an arm over your waist. He pulls you in close and hums at the way you nuzzle your face into his neck despite how sweaty he must be.

“How much time we got left?”

You take a peek at your watch, then groan. “Five minutes.”

”Shit.” He’s not ready to let you go yet, but he pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed anyway.

”We could just skip dinner,” you suggest with a hopeful pout to your lips as you stretch out further over the floral bedspread.

As much as he wants to… “Can’t. Gotta grab Ellie. Can’t leave her alone all day.”

”You must really care about her.” There’s no malice to your tone—it’s more surprise.

He simply grunts in response—he’ll never admit it, but he can’t deny it either. “C’mon. Clothes on.”

He gathers the pile from the floor and tosses it to you, practically burying you where you lay.

”Forgot how bossy you are,” you grumble but follow the instruction nevertheless.

It’s a little awkward, sitting across the table from your lover’s family like your legs aren’t still a little weak from being so thoroughly fucked. But Joel’s hand is a constant on your thigh, and you even catch him smirking a little as Ellie grills you with a million questions—mostly about your relationship with Joel.

For once, everything feels normal. For once, you forget about the crumbling world around you. In this bubble with Joel, everything is stable and secure. There’s a future on the horizon and a chance to write your own story.

You drag Joel back home at the soonest opportunity, patiently biding your time while he settles Ellie in for the night. You hear heated conversation bordering on an argument, but he doesn’t say anything about it when he enters the room for the night.

Instead he drags you to him in a heated kiss, his large hands practically engulfing your face as his tongue sweeps into your mouth to re-familiarize himself with known yet long-unexplored territory.

He hates having to tamp down your moans, but he loves being able to swallow them with his own mouth as his fingers trace through your slick folds. You’re still puffy, wet, and sensitive from his earlier onslaught, but it doesn’t deter you one bit. He revels in each little whimper and gasp, all the involuntary squirms and twitches as he brings you to the brink on his thick, calloused fingers. He swallows every little sound with a fevered kiss until your lips are swollen and red—and then you turn the tables on him. You take him in your palm, whispering praises about how your hand can barely close around him while stroking him with the gentle, languid movements that you know drive him crazy. He fights to keep his sounds down as you settle close in his lap, chest pressed to his and legs locked tight around his thighs until the moment he has to pull your hand away from fear of finishing too fast.

This is the exact foil of the way he fucked you earlier in a frenzied, desperate passion. Now it’s soft and languid, more like searching and exploring than trying to find the end goal. It’s hot and sweaty and sticky from where your skin is pressed so tightly against his, but his strong hands only drag you closer and closer and you really don’t even consider pulling away—not when he gently tugs your hair to tilt your head back for a deeper kiss, not when he lifts you up so effortlessly to help you sink down on his achingly hard cock, not even when his hands squeeze your hips hard enough to leave bruises at the feeling of bottoming out in your soaked cunt.

You couldn’t count the minutes you’re on top of him even if you cared to try. It’s an eternity of softly rocking hips and open-mouthed kisses, like if he breathes air from anywhere besides your lungs it’ll poison him. He doesn’t even care that it practically feels like torture—like not enough but simultaneously far too much as you do nothing more than rock on his length. It takes a lifetime before he loses his patience and anchors your hips in his capable hands so he can fuck you properly. He guides you to bounce on him, hitting deeper with each perfectly matched upward thrust of his own hips.

You’re falling apart before you even know what’s hit you, biting your lip almost to the point of drawing blood to keep your sounds under control as you fall limp in his arms.

And Joel—sweet, sweet Joel—has the foresight to check in with you before he does what he has to.

”Good, baby? Feel okay? Wanna stop?”

You shake your head, and it takes you a moment to find breath enough to tell him, “Don’t stop. Come in me.”

The demand is so unexpected that it hits him like a tidal wave—and before he knows it, his cock is twitching with forceful spasms as he paints you from the inside out until you’re dripping his spend out around his softening length.

Evidently, you’re not the only one caught up in this bubble of paradise within the walls of Jackson.

He doesn’t say anything, just rolls onto his side so he can hold you closer without his cock slipping from your warmth. That’s exactly how you fall asleep—him snuggly inside you, kissing your hair and whispering the sweetest of nothings into your ear.

When you wake up, you feel empty in more ways than one.

There’s dust particles swirling in the sunbeam streaming through the far window, and your stomach sinks when you reach over and feel Joel’s side of the bed completely cold.

You try not to jump to conclusions, but you know exactly what you’ll find even before you read the note left on the nightstand.

Easier not to say goodbye. I promised I’d take Ellie to the Fireflies, and you know I always make good on my promises.

I promise I’ll come back for you.

Joel

It’s not a promise that he can make with complete certainty, and you know it. You’re sure he knew it, too; and yet he did it anyway, promised you the impossible.

You remember far too suddenly that there’s risks involved with literally anything done in this crumbling, broken world—and just like that, the perfect little bubble you’ve lived in for the past sixteen hours has popped. There’s no fairytale endings here, no happily ever afters.

There’s you, alone and aching, hoping beyond hope the man you love will return to your side.

And there’s Joel, out in the wilderness somewhere, wondering if he’s even worthy of returning to your side.

Maybe he’s not. But maybe making good on this promise—dropping Ellie off so they can find a cure—will tip his scales. Maybe he’ll be worthy of finally settling down with you the way he wants to after this one last job. He knows he’ll have to spend hours upon hours apologizing to you for it, but it would be worth it to know that he finally made the world at least a little bit better rather than worse—to know that he’s finally done something for you to be proud of.

He knows he has to prove himself one way or another before he can return to your side. And he will.

After all, Joel Miller is a man who always makes good on his promises.

THE END

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#cece writes #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut

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imajinxnation · 3 months

Text

The Wisdom; Gone

Keanu Reeves Characters x Reader

SUMMARY // Keanu characters react to you getting your wisdom teeth taken out.

TW // What you would expect from getting teeth pulled, Fluff, Comfort.

ALL GIFS FOUND ON PINTEREST

Damn I really needed to write this because I'm my third day in and it's so hard to not be able to eat what I want😭

Sorry about Neo's, I was in a rush!!

John Wick

When I tell you this man will be there by your side the whole time, I mean THE WHOLE TIME. He is so fuckin' sweet, it's unreal. If you're nervous about getting your teeth ripped out of your mouth, he will calm you down and make sure you're ready, and if you wanna back out, he totally supports that, especially if you don't actually need them taken out.

When you're high off the anesthetic, no matter whether you act normal or emotional, he's ready. He will wait on you night and day (more than he usually does), and is very strict to what you can and cannot eat during the first few days, keeping it to soft foods and water and then slowly make your way back into your normal diet. Even when you feel fine, he's gonna baby you until at least the first week is over.

One other thing is that he is constantly in your mouth, checking to make sure no food gets stuck in the craters in your mouth.

John Constantine

This man acts so fuckin' hard, but as soon as he sees you in pain, he is there. Let's hope you're at least semi-normal after anesthetic, because he has no idea what to do if you get emotional, and will probably end up just laughing at you for being so high and out of it.

Now, when it comes to doting on you, he'll lay you on the couch and will let you relax until it's time for your medication. He won't admit it, but he is SO gentle and caring when giving you your meds.

The moment you start to feel better and can do things for yourself, he'll let you do your thing, but keep an eye out just in case he sees you getting something to eat that you probably shouldn't while healing.

Ted Theodore Logan

This sweet boy, I swear. He will help you a lot, whether it's helping you walk, help you eat and drink, give you your medicine at the right time, and he'll even help change your gauze, and that's saying something, cause I can see him being squeemish to blood.

You're gonna get all the cuddles from him. If he notices your cool pack sliding off your head, he'll gently push it back into place, and if it needs to be frozen again, he'll put it in the freezer for awhile before wrapping it back around your head and chin.

Now, food-wise, he's probably not the best cook, so expect really simple soft foods, like jello, yogurt and ice cream, or luke-warm cup noodles.

Johnny Silverhand

This rocker asshole will probably just lay you on the couch and tell you to go to sleep so he doesn't have to deal with your high self. (He won't admit it, but he fixes your cool pack during your sleep, making sure it's on your face and head properly.)

He acts like he doesn't care when you're finally able to do shit yourself, but he does. He's always checking over his shoulder at you to make sure you're not doing/eating anything you shouldn't.

If he hears you even utter the smallest groan of pain, he is there asking what's wrong. Hates to admit it, but he'd rather die than see you in pain.

Neo (Thomas Anderson)

(Ignore the caption)

This is gonna be Pre-Matrix. So, basically, Neo has no idea what to do on his own and needs you to guide him through the procedures that need to be taken to heal properly. Whatever you tell him he needs to do will be done.

That's all really, other than he thinks your puffy cheeks are adorable, but also feels bad because he knows you're in pain from it.

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euaphoric · 10 months

Text

“i can give you all the exact same things he can, but a million times better.”

## pairing — haechan x f!reader / strangers to lovers ? ft. other nct members!

## warnings — smut, light angst, fluff, drinking/scenes involving alcohol, a whole lotta nasty stuff, approximately 3.3k words. did i base some of the conflict on real life events? possiblyyy.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

per usual, it was another weekend filled with back to back partying and going out. jaemin (your new boytoy for now) invited you out tonight so you pull up to the function wearing your sexiest little black dress, making all the heads turn soon as you walk in the club. even jaemin’s friends were eyeing you, they were all pretty hot too which didn’t make the situation any easier. it was your first time meeting all of them properly, you only really spoke to them through quick interactions between you coming and going out of jaemin’s room. they all knew you had a thing going on so they did their best to try and respect that.

“hey, you must be y/n right? i’m taeyong, i don’t think we’ve formally introduced ourselves. it’s nice finally talking to you!” a blonde man comes up to you, reaching his hand out for you to take. you happily accept and shook his hand, “yes, it’s so nice meeting you too!” all of the guys seemed really friendly, especially mark, he can get pretty handsy when there’s a bit of alcohol in his system. “oh so this is the girl i’ve been hearing all about?” mark stumbles his way over to you, already feeling drunk off a couple shots. “nice to meet ya, i’m mark!” you try and go for a handshake like you did previously with taeyong but that wasn’t his style. “pfftt, don’t try that with me, we hug around here!” he pulls you into a giant bear hug, almost embracing you like a longtime friend he’s known for years. you gave him a questionable look, wondering what kinds of things jaemin says about you to his friends. hopefully it was nothing too detailed or invasive, in which that case you’d be heated if he spilled all the tea about your sex lives.

“care to elaborate on what you heard about me…?” you ask skeptically, wondering if it’s something actually worth your time. “i mean.. nah, i probably shouldn’t— it’s like against bro code to disclose top secret info like that!” he recants, not wanting to be the main source of why you might get angry with jaemin. sigh, as much as you wanted to keep prying mark with more questions your vision gets blocked by jaemin who quite literally comes out of nowhere with another shot. “mark hyung i think that’s enough chitchatting for now, just keep drinking and dancing!” he proceeds to hand mark the glass filled with mystery liquid, mark gulped it down instantly and even asked for another. this was definitely gonna be a night full of catastrophic fun. well hopefully. you didn’t drink much so it felt nice being one of the only semi-sober people of the bunch, the club was pretty packed but you were on the upstairs level and near the outdoor patio which had a gorgeous view of the skyline. the DJ tonight was pretty decent too, he played most songs you knew and liked which was rare nowadays. you didn’t need lots of alcohol to let loose and have fun so you make your way to the dance floor with jaemin but not even 5 mins later he runs into a familiar face. “jaemin is that really you?!” a brunette woman comes up to him with the cheesiest smile on her face. “no way, giselle? long time no see!” he hugs her but that hug seems to be lasting way longer than it should.

it’s almost as if you completely didn’t exist anymore to jaemin. he told you he’d be “right back” but it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he’s still over at the bar with giselle. he could’ve at least tried to hide the fact that he was flirtatious but he wasn’t even subtle when his eyes were glued to her massive rack the whole time she spoke. you know you aren’t dating this man but the disrespect of him to do that so blatantly in front of your face was crazy to you. he’s crossed the big no-no line for you and it’s only fair you give him a taste of his own medicine. you scan the room to look for a hot guy that would make the perfect candidate, settling your eyes on a very, ridiculously handsome man standing a few meters away from you. he seemed to be alone, his facial expression looking almost bored. you never thought white pants looked good on anyone, but on him? he was exquisite. he gave off 90’s skater vibes and looks like type that listens to cigarettes after sex. it intrigued you why such a good looking guy was here out by himself, just didn’t seem right.

you confidently walk up to him, tapping his shoulder to strike up a conversation. the blaring music would drown out your soft voice easily so you get closer to his ear, “hey, i’m just gonna put it out there right now, i think you’re hot and wanna dance with you!” you were bold for sure tonight. the man looks caught by surprise but doesn’t seem opposed by your advance. he whispers back in your ear “the feelings mutual, i’d love to!” within seconds, an array of ring clad fingers wrap around your waist to bring you to the center of the dance floor. you knew you had the full package but weren’t expecting to get this far so quickly, your backside was facing his front, swaying your hips to the beat of the music. a slow r&b song comes on so he rests his chin on your shoulder, “you look amazing in this dress might i add.” the unnamed man says in a raspy tone. “this definitely feels like fate ‘cause i’ve been eyeing you since i came in here.” you met this guy not even half an hour ago and you’re already ready to drop to your knees for him. “i didn’t try anything since i saw you with a guy earlier, that wasn’t your boyfriend right?” you laugh, scoffing at the idea of you ever dating jaemin. you’ll probably never want to see him again after this stunt he pulled. “no, not at all! he’s just some guy i was seeing, but he’s old news now!” “ah, i see. so then i’m allowed to claim you for the rest of the night?” “i’m all yours for the taking.”

the dance floor became a fuzzy obscure entity around you as your bodies collided. the way he danced so gracefully yet so sensual, his hands traveled down your body, admiring your curvy figure. it felt like a steamy movie scene where two hot strangers try and solve the thick tension between them. but your moment would soon be ruined by the constant vibrating of your phone. you tried ignoring it but it wouldn’t stop so you take it out your crossbody purse and look to see who’s been blowing it up. of course, the person who’s been trying to contact you was none other than jaemin. “sorry, s’cuse me i gotta look at this for a sec!” you break away momentarily to check the texts.

5 new notifications from- jaemin (sneaky link 💦)

[1:00 am]: wow..

[1:03 am]: i leave and come back for only a couple mins just to see you with other guys?? you should feel shameful

[1:04 am]: can’t believe you’d do me like that fr

[1:10 am]: funny cause i was starting to have genuine feelings for you too but i guess you girls are all just the same so idc it’s your loss 🤷🏻‍♂️

[1:18 am]: wtv

the audacity of this man was astonishing. you cannot believe him of all people is actually getting mad at you for doing this. you know you’ll probably regret this tomorrow but you tell him off, it’s only right since he wants to pull the victim card now.

[1:25 am]: don’t make me laugh jae, you’re so self entitled that you can’t even see what YOU did wrong. i’m not going to explain myself and idgaf what you think of me after this, i’m thru with your sorry ass anyways. go have fun with your new bae giselle since you wanna mooch it up with her all night which was way more than “a couple mins” btw… you practically threw yourself at her like the manwhore you are and left me to fend for myself! you are the only one who should feel shameful here not me. so kindly go fuck yourself and have a nice day :)

it felt good to let it all out after sending that, you gave zero fucks at this point. you put your phone on do not disturb, put it back in your purse and bring your attention back to the man with groovy dance moves. “why don’t we get out of here?” your ask sounds more like a demand as you pull his arm away to leave the floor, making your way through the sea of people. you reach outside and you were finally able to talk normally, not having to scream over the music in order to understand each other. “my cars parked in that lot over there, we can go back to my place if you want.” he proposes, waiting for you to give him the approval.

usually you aren’t this lenient with just hooking with someone from the club but this guy was on another level, you had to see what he’s all about. “sure, but before i get into the car with a complete stranger, can we at least know our names? i’m y/n.” you finally introduce yourself properly. “yeah that would make sense, my name’s haechan. it’s an honor to have you accompany me tonight!” he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a wet kiss to it. even the most minimal touch leaves you starstruck by him.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

once you got to haechan’s place, it started off with some wholesome fun. just talking and getting to know more about each other, haechan asked about jaemin again to make sure you were okay but you shrug it off saying you were fine. “trust me haechan, i’m not shedding a single tear over him so no need to keep asking. i’ll be fine, he was just someone i used as a booty call to be honest.” he nods to your response, “good, now i won’t feel like an asshole for saying what i was thinking.” “what were you thinking?” you wonder, raising your brow. “that i can give you all the exact same things he can, but a million times better.” his voice was laced with seduction as he spoke, “i don’t even mean to sound cocky but i’ll make it my personal goal to be the most memorable fuck you’ve ever had.” he presses his chest up against yours, “i’ll make sure you’ll never think about another man but me after i’m through with you princess.”

you nervously gulp, feeling yourself grow wetter by the minute. you’ve never had a man talk to you in such a way that could make you this easily aroused. “that’s a pretty bold claim you said there, you think you’ll be able to live up to it?” you tease, hoping he won’t take it too seriously. “oh i don’t think, i know. it’s 100% satisfaction guaranteed or your money back love— which will never happen.” he chuckles, snaking his hand to cup your chin and bringing it close to his lips. he stayed like that for what seemed like forever, staring at your petal lips, lightly squishing your cheeks together to turn them into a pout.

“so pretty…” he coos, inching closer to your lips now. he presents you with a deep kiss, sensing the raw passion through him as his hands tease the inners of your thighs. you get a fistful of his messy hair while sinking further down into the memory foam mattress, bringing him with you. he nibbles at your lower lip for entry and you immediately let him slide his tongue in, deliciously exploring each other, making you purr as he tastes the sweetness of you. you softly moan into the kiss, grinding your hips below him, bucking up pathetically to feel some action down there.

“god you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he groans, after breaking away from the kiss. “i’m gonna fuck you ‘til it’s morning baby.” that sounded more like a threat than a promise. “you gonna rail me so hard that i scream and call you daddy all night?” you playfully remark, something ignited in him once you called him that, the desire for you only becoming more irrational. “oh my beloved, you have no idea.” his breaths were heavy against your skin, pressing kisses to your jawline then trailing down to your neck to gently suck. he found a hypersensitive area to make you gasp, sending goosebumps all over your body. you feel a hand on your breast, cupping it tenderly whilst littering your neck with pretty purple and red hickeys. your legs squirm underneath from him rubbing your nipple through your dress, feeling it stiffen as he pinched and flicked at them. you were so horny for him at this point, your panties were a soaked up mess. you continued bucking into him for any bit of stimulation, whining to feel something. it’s been a while since you’ve been needy like this for a man… “if you want something darling just ask.” he props his head up to give you a shit eating smirk, wanting to hear you talk just as dirty as he was. “gimme cock, please! i’m so painfully wet right now i can’t take it anymore.. just need you to fill me up” you weakly surrender. drool peaked out from the corner of your mouth and haechan noticed so he licks it up, “that’s what i’ve been planning to do for hours sweetheart.”

haechan gives you a couple more small, fleeting kisses while lifting your dress up, caressing your plump thighs, running his index finger from your inner thigh to your damp clothed clit. “goddamn you weren’t lying, you’re crazy wet.” you blush at how embarrassingly wet he’s made you for someone you haven’t even known a full 24 hours yet. “i’m just gonna prep you bit with my fingers m’kay babe?” he pushes your panties to the side, sliding his digits along your folds to gather your slick. he entered two fingers in you while circling and stimulating your clit with his thumb, your moans echoed throughout the room just for him. he curls them inside you and your walls cinch around needily, arching your back and moaning with pleasure.

you were seemingly going to come undone just from haechan fingering you, all the wetness dripping onto his wrist only making him want you to cream on his fingers more. your legs feel unstable and you twitch as you feel yourself cumming for the first time of the night, your liquids pour out into his digits, coating them with the creamiest mess. your mouth is locked open as you reach your high, another harsh swipe to your clit was the last string that pulled you. feeling breathless at this point, he gave a twisted smile before taking his fingers out and placing them in your mouth to suck one by one, tasting your lovely essence. he rushed to take off his clothes; quickly removing his pants and boxers to reveal his freshly trimmed, hardened cock. your eyes widen at his length, he’s much bigger than you thought, you were figuring out how he’d be able to fit it all inside. he’ll make it fit one way or another.

there will be many more orgasms to come as the night progresses, you’ve lost count at this point as the duvet is now soaked with your juices. he was pounding you into the ground with his cock, producing hefty back shots to your ass while his hands rest on both sides of your waist. he hasn’t gotten tired of fucking your tight pussy since he’s started. “who’s pussy does this belong to?” he pants, hitting your walls precisely, “it’s all mine right? my cock’s better than jaemin’s right??” he growls, already showing his possessive side within just a few hours. a loud slap to your ass comes with full force, barely giving you any time to react. “r-right!! all yours, this pussy belongs to only you haechan!” you internally struggled to speak, feeling faint off of how many times he’s made you cum. you scream and yelp from pleasure that his dick is the best and how good he’s making you feel. he’s fucked your overstimulated cunt so many times but you still subconsciously tighten around him as he draws out and pumps back in. as soon as he’s close to cumming he finishes on your back, spreading his white seed onto you like the filthy cockwhore you were for him.

he had you like putty in his hands, arching into his touch as he digs his nails into your plush hips. you squirt like it was nothing with him, but with jaemin you could never do that. you couldn’t let this just be a one night stand, you have to get this guy’s number before you leave to do the walk of shame in the morning. speaking of morning; you can see a faint sliver of light through the curtains and you realize now that haechan kept his word from earlier. you never kept track of time though, only thing on your mind is hyuck’s cock filling you up repeatedly. his pace would get sloppier as he’s close to his ten thousandth orgasm, hearing a loud guttural groan escape his mouth. he pulls out again but this time he turns you over while manhandling you, pinning your arms to each side while he cums all on your folds, watching it slowly leak down your swollen pussy. he drags his fingers to your cunt to spread your lips open, biting his lip at the sight — he made such a beautiful mess.

with your clit already being overstimulated and sensitive, he flicks his tongue back to it while tightly holding onto your thigh. your whole body trembles as you cry out to him, pulling his hair as he brings you to tears. you don’t know how you’re still breathing right now, waves of ecstasy washing your brain from constant stimulus, you were in utopia and heaven combined. you weren’t sure how much more you’ll be able to endure, “haechan! haechan!” you’d scream at the top of your lungs, body growing weaker and weaker. he was tearing down every part of you like his life depends on it. he forms saliva with his mouth and spits on your already dripping, throbbing cunt; he’ll never get tired of doing this. “i make you feel the best don’t i?” he grunts, slapping your pussy “no one makes you feel as good as i do right baby girl?” “yes…” you whimper from the twinge of pain. eyes roll to the back of your head, that devilish gaze he had could snatch your soul in an instant.

he was completely right when he said no one’s ever made you feel this good, he was most definitely going to be the most memorable lay you’ve had in your life. jaemin didn’t even come close to haechan. you feel crazy for wanting to stay with him and ask him how he likes his eggs in the morning, his cock rewired your whole brain to think only of him, to be of service to his every want and need. he drove you truly, madly, deeply insane. “looks like the suns fully rising now,” he says looking over at the acute sunlight emitting from the window “my work here is done.” “can i just stay like this for a while? i can’t feel my legs..” you croak, unable to even build minimum strength to prop your head up. “of course you can” he murmurs, “i would never kick you out like that. i was gonna ask if you wanted to sleep here and cuddle, hm?” pressing slow, lazy kisses to your shaky thighs, tracing patterns into them. he was a force to be reckoned with earlier but has now turned into a ray of sunshine right after. “yes please, i’d love that. hold me in your arms forever and ever.”

#nct #nct smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan fanfic #nct x reader #haechan x f reader #nct x female reader #nct hard hours #lee donghyuck smut #lee donghyuk x reader

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levilxvr · 5 months

Text

Forget about him. (p2)

PART 1

PAIRINGS: levi x f!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw 18+, breakup, car sex

SUMMARY: erwin calls to tell you he won’t be home for the night so levi drives you to his apartment, where he can no longer hold back his desires.

Your phone rings and you curse.

“fuck, he’s calling.”

You quickly end the call with levi and pick up erwin’s incoming call, then sigh when you hear him giggling over the indie music blasting in the background. Clearly he’s drunk again- he never controls his alcohol intake. Typical erwin.

“hey,” you mumble

“hey baby, im gonna be over at marlene’s place for the night, hic- you ok to be alone right?” You rolled your eyes. The fact that he had the audacity to explicitly state who he was sleeping with made you want to hang up on him. Normally he wouldn’t say who he was with, but this time he seemed too intoxicated to think properly.

“Oh, can I go home then?” You fake a little bit of sadness in your tone. Not like he cares anyway.

“Yeah- hic- okay I gotta go now, I’ll see you tomorrow baby cant wait to see your pretty-”

You hang up on him, throwing the phone aside when you remember you’re still laying there with your shorts off, panties damp with cum. You can’t stop thinking about the fact that right now, he was probably heading to some other girl’s place to sleep- no, probably fuck. You ignore the hurt in your heart and finish cleaning yourself up and retrieve the extra set of clothes from erwin’s closet, throwing your soiled ones into his laundry basket as you pick up your phone again.

Fine, if he wants to play this stupid game he can go ahead. You had other plans, anyway. It’s still pretty early, about 10:30pm. Your phone buzzes and you see a banner come in, this time from levi.

levi: everything alright?

you: yep, he’s staying over at someone’s place tonight and won’t be home.

levi: oh

you: I was thinking, if you don’t mind maybe you could drive over? Wanna chat with you.

levi: of course, meet me at the parking lot in ten :)

On the other end of the line, he’s got the silliest grin on his face. His heart flutters in his chest and he immediately shoots out of bed, throwing on a black hoodie and grabbing the car keys. Erwin’s place isn’t too far from his, it’s just down the road a few blocks away. Two years ago when he’d just gotten his first apartment, he used to meet up frequently with erwin at the park round the bend. But now..his heart sunk a little when he realized they probably couldn’t be best friends anymore.

Screw it, his jaw tightened. You deserved better. And after doing what he just did with you over the phone..Sure, it felt amazing and he got the relief he needed so bad. But it also left him wanting more. He couldn’t get the sound of your pretty moans out of his head since you hung up and it was driving him crazy. He felt like his old self a few years back when he was a horny teenager.

Soon levi was pulling over at the parking lot as you emerged from the lift lobby, walking over to his car. You get in the front seat beside him and, with your sudden surge of confidence, peck his cheek lightly. “Where to?”

“We can go to my place if you’re ok?” You can barely make out the blush on his cheeks in the dim lighting of his car.

“I’d like that.”

The drive to his apartment is silent. His right hand is on your exposed thigh, thumb stroking idle circles on the soft skin as you try to keep it together. Your gaze is focused on his hand, that pale, slender hand you imagine thrusting in and out of you every night. Now that you actually look at it in detail, you realize how smooth and veiny it is, his nails neatly trimmed as well.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Not much.”

He hums in response. Every time he glances at you from his peripheral view all he thinks about is how perfect you are. As you stop at a traffic light, he’s admiring your hair, your features, your outfit..hold on. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Mhm. It’s the one you lent me at the library a few weeks ago.”

His breath catches. God, suddenly you became even more attractive.

You let out a sigh and lean in to rest your head on his shoulder. Somehow it’s so natural, and you don’t feel the same tension that’s lingering in the air whenever you’re with erwin. Levi tells you that you’re reaching, giving your thigh a little squeeze. He parks the car in the corner lot but doesn’t get out- instead he relaxes back into the seat and wraps an arm around you.

“Can I ask you something?” You face him, taking his hand.

“hm?”

“Did you really mean it when you told me to forget about him and just..you know,”

“Of course I did.” He closes his eyes and kisses your hair. He loves the smell of that sweet coconut shampoo you use. “Did you think I said it in the heat of the moment?”

You shrug and he lets out a long breath.

“Fucking hell y/n, you have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to be with you. I just didn’t want to ruin things between you and Erwin. Thought maybe it would get better, but now that you’re really gonna break up with him, shit, I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

“Then don’t.” You slip your hands under his hoodie, finally running your fingers over the toned, smooth skin you’ve always wanted to feel. His muscles tense and he shivers as you begin tracing the lines of his abdomen.

“What?” His voice is shaky.

“You don’t need to control yourself anymore, levi.”

He pulls away from you and bites his lower lip, hesitating for a moment as he runs a hand through his already tousled black hair. “You sure?” His fingers caress your jaw, thumb pressing down lightly on your lip. You give him a knowing smile and seconds later you’re both leaning in to kiss each other. It’s sloppy and rough, there’s no rhythm but neither of you care. Months of emotions- sadness, anger, love, joy, are all escaping from him as he tightens his grip on your waist and pushes himself closer to you.

“Backseat?”

“Why?”

“Kinda wanna fuck you real bad.” You laugh at how casually he says it.

“Your house is right there, levi.”

“don’t care.”

Then you’re on his lap, legs on either side of his as he grabs your ass and pulls off your shorts. He lets you grind against him, feeling his pants become tight again as his cock hardens. The little noises you let out only made him throb as he hastily yanks the fabric down, letting his erection free. It’s about the same size as you imagined, maybe slightly thicker. You straddle his hips and press yourself against the shaft, precum dribbling from the tiny slit.

Levi’s forehead is pressed against your shoulder, whimpering and cursing softly as he guides his cock to your hole, being careful not to do it too fast. You’re so soft and warm, it’s even better than he thought it would be, nearly cumming on the spot because of how good it feels. You didn’t realize how pent up you were until you felt him stretching you out so blissfully, pussy hugging him so tightly you can practically feel him throbbing inside you.

You start bouncing on his cock, starting slow while he adjusts to the feeling. Levi can’t believe you’re actually doing this right now, it feels like a dream come true. He pulls you in for another kiss, desperately beginning to thrust himself upwards in rhythm with your movements. Your fingernails dig into his back when his thumb presses against your clit, toying with it while his other hand slides under your top, brushing it on the underside of your breast.

“fuck, i’m so close baby,” he moans, head hitting the back of the seat as he hisses through his teeth. Usually he takes longer to cum but this time it just feels too damn good and he’s so sensitive. He can tell you’re gonna cum soon as well from the way you’re squeezing around him, so he speeds up and you feel the head of his cock kissing your sweet spot.

“fuck, yes levi- right there,”

“here?” he groans, doing the same thing as you whimper. It’s the first time hes fucking you and yet he knows your body so well.

“you on the pill right?”

“mhm,shit i’m gonna cum-”

“me too pretty girl.” his voice is a pitch higher, breathy moans escaping his swollen lips as you both climax. Levi stills inside you as he empties his load and your head is thrown back while you ride out your orgasm. It’s more intense than the ones you’ve been giving yourself for the past month, and your legs are shaking as you try to lift your hips off him.

“fuck baby, look what you did,” he gasps, tensing at the wet mess you made over his legs. Shit, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt. You’re surprised as well, cuz you’ve never done it before. But before you can recover from your high, his strong hands are flipping you over so you’re lying across the backseats, Hips slamming against yours as he continues fucking you.

“levilevilevi, wait i’m-” still sensitive, you were gonna say, but the rest of the sentence turned into a high pitched groan as you feel your core heating up again. Minutes later he’s sending you over the edge for the second time and your pussy clenches around him, clear fluid spurting onto his abdomen.

You’re breathing hard, body trembling as he leans down to kiss your lips. He watches as a mix of both of your fluids begin seeping out of your cunt, burying his cock back inside you to push it back in. “shit, you’re so hot, I could do this all day.”

you giggle and tangle your fingers in his silky hair, lying below him in silence for a while.

“Let's go upstairs and get in bed, it’s gonna be midnight soon.”

The next morning, you’re woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. You’re tangled in levi’s arms and he lets out a low, sleepy groan as you reluctantly wriggle out of his grip. Unsurprisingly it’s erwin calling you- probably wondering why you’re not home.

“hello there, hope you had fun with marlene last night.”

“Babe, are you out?”

“Yeah, don’t bother looking for me, I’m done with our relationship.”

“What the hell?”

“i’m breaking up with you, erwin.”

He starts bombarding you with a bunch of questions you can't be bothered to answer, so you hang up on him mid sentence and put your phone on silent mode. You feel levi’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you down beside him as he tucks your hair behind your ear. He gives you a small smile.

“that’s my girl.”

#levi x reader smut #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi ackerman #here is the part 2 to feed your hungry souls🤗#n.sfw #levi x fem!reader

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