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tasteleeknow · 1 year

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BETWEEN

PAIRING: minho + chan x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. f2l. roommates au. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5k

SUMMARY: Your two roommates are your best friends in the world. You’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. Queue tension and smut with feelings.

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

It’s laundry day, a day you’ve put off a little long. You end up grabbing a shirt from Minho’s clean clothing he’d left in the dryer to throw over your head as you wait for your own load to finish. Neither of them were around. You’re leaning over the counter to grab a paper towel when the front door opens. You peak around the corner just as Chris is throwing his shoes aside. Okay, this is fine. The shirt is just long enough to hang over the tops of your thighs, covering the pale blue underwear you’d slept in.

There’s no escape. You’re going to have to face your friend in your underwear. Be casual about it, you tell yourself. It’s not a big deal. You really needed to stop putting off doing laundry.

You continue with your task, wiping down the kitchen bench as your eggs fry. “Are you hungry?!” you call out. “I’m making breakfast if you want anything.”

He was always up before you and Minho, spending his early mornings at the gym.

“I’m starv…ing….” he trails off from behind you. Alright, so he’d noticed the no pants thing. Act casual.

“Good, I’m making extra. I thought—”

Then he’s behind you, not quite touching, but hovering so close you're forced to pause your cleaning. He leans over you. “You can wear mine, if you like,” he says, tugging a little at the hem of Minho’s t-shirt.

Then he’s gone. The shower starts just as the dryer announces your clothes are ready.

—

You’d hoped your regular nightmares would be left in childhood. But as you’d grown out of your favourite shoes and your allergy to soy, your nightmares had stuck. The first time you’d crept into Minho’s room after a particularly bad one, you’d nudged him awake hesitantly. He’d welcomed you under his covers, unquestioning. They stayed away with him, with Chris too the few times he’d fallen asleep in your bed. It was only when you were alone that your sleep was disturbed.

Minho is curled up on his side when you crawl under his sheets, shuffling as close to him as possible without touching. He still stirs when you roll over to face the edge of the bed. He would always wake up when you joined him. He connects his front to your back, as always. But then, with a small contented noise from his throat, his hand slips up under the hem of your shirt—his warm palm resting against your stomach.

This is new.

“Min?” you whisper.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over. His hand slips to rest on your back. You reach up to brush his hair behind his ear, tucking the soft strands away from his eyes. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. He hadn’t bothered getting it cut. He hums, almost a purr. He’s awake. “Does it bother you when I sleep here?” you whisper.

His brows pull together slightly and then he tugs you a little closer, pressing you right up against his chest. You have a feeling that’s all the answer you’ll be receiving.

You watch as he drifts off. It only takes him a few minutes. His features go slack, lips parting slightly as his breathing evens out. You follow him shortly after.

It’s only a few hours later that you find yourself staring at the ceiling—Minho’s legs tangled with your own. The nightmare that had led you into this room had been particularly bad, startling you awake with a racing heart. You’re usually fine after joining Minho. But not tonight. It’s enough that you find yourself creeping from his bedroom in the early hours of the morning, completely giving up on more sleep. It’s unsurprising when you find Chris awake, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands. He often had a worse time with sleep than you did.

“Nightmare?” he says as you settle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Mm. Nothing new, it was just… more intense.”

He lifts the woollen blanket off his legs and drapes it over you. “Intense?” he questions.

“He-It… stood right over me. It usually just gets to my door before I wake up but… it walked right up to my bed and just… stood there. It felt like he was going to lunge at me any second… it was—” you cut yourself off as you bury your face in his shoulder, a shiver running up your spine.

“You’re alright,” he soothes. “Promise.”

“I know. I just… I hate sleeping alone.”

Minho chooses that moment to stumble into the room, fluffy socks sliding along the floorboards as he runs his fingers through his hair. He collapses onto the couch beside you seconds later, dropping his head into your lap as he stretches out as much as he can along the cushions.

Chris huffs out a breathy laugh beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder—book forgotten. “Problem solved,” he says.

“Where’d you go?” Minho mumbles from your lap, eyes closed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you answer as you brush his hair from his face, the soft brown strands a pleasant occupation for your hands.

A bolt of lightning lights up the room, drowning out the soft glow from the lamp Chris had been using to read. “The storm?” Minho questions as you play with his hair, stroking some of the strands around his temples.

“My dreams,” you correct.

“You don’t have them with me.”

“I know… but the one I had earlier just lingered, I guess.”

All three of you are quiet as rain starts falling, the type of rain that falls heavy with no build up—creating a curtain between you and the world.

“Stop sleeping alone, then,” Minho says. “Just stay with me.”

You take a moment to process his meaning. Then, “Everynight?”

“Mm.”

The corner of your mouth lifts a little. They were so good to you, both of them. “Love you,” you whisper as your fingers brush the shell of his ear.

He says nothing, his upper lip twitching a little.

You told them both as often as you could. You loved them more than anyone on earth. They had to know. It had morphed though, the type of love. That was always how you knew you’d end up loving someone. You had to know them so completely that you were safe, comfortable. Love them as friends, then as lovers.

It was the way Minho would keep one eye on you in public, when he knew you’d get overwhelmed. He always managed to catch onto when you wanted to leave before you’d even had a chance to voice it. He was quiet with his love, softly spoken words of comfort that you’d absorb without moving a muscle. If you moved, he might startle—shrink back into his comfort zone.

Chris’ attention was a little different. Rambling words, tripping over himself as he told you about his day. A hand on your back as you made your way through the busy weekend market. While Minho kept his eye on you from a distance, Chris was up close—physical contact and direct questioning.

A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky as Chris detangles himself from you. “Hot chocolate?” he asks.

“Mm, thank you.”

“Minho?” he prompts.

The man in question grunts out something that Chris interprets as a yes. “Three hot chocolates,” he says as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you with a half asleep man in your lap. You continue playing with his hair as the storm intensifies. You’d always liked storms. They formed a protective barrier from the rest of the world. The air was washed clean, the suffocating heat of summer days was quashed, and no one expected anything from you.

You begin tracing over the tiny scars and imperfections that mark Minho’s face, little traces of evidence from his life before you’d met. It was hard to imagine that you’d ever been without him. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it.

“Do you really not mind if I sleep with you?” you ask, hoping he won’t retract his offer. “You won’t get sick of me?”

His eyes flutter open, long dark lashes visible even in the dim light. “I like it,” he says simply. I love you, you hear.

—

It’s an easy routine to fall into. Your room becomes a glorified closet as you spend each night in Minho’s instead. He even puts up with your pillow talk, and on nights where he’s particularly energetic, he offers a few thoughtful comments in addition to his hums of acknowledgement.

The feeling of the mattress dipping as someone sinks into the bed behind you wakes you. It’s the smell of his shampoo that tells you it’s Chris that wraps around you. “You awake?” he whispers.

“Mm, couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

Minho makes a small noise before draping his leg over you, smacking his lips before stilling again. You’re completely enveloped now, two warm bodies sheltering you from the darkness. Chris didn’t join you often. You’d spent a few nights with your back to the dark room wishing he would. Minho’s bed was centred in the room. You preferred having yours pushed against the wall. It felt safer.

Chris makes a small contended noise as he presses up behind you.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers after a moment, breath ghosting over your neck. “You bent over the counter… your thighs…” It takes you off guard. You know what he’s talking about, despite it being weeks ago that he caught you in Minho’s shirt. You find yourself unable to breathe, heart thumping so loud you're sure he must hear it. “It’s wrong—dirty to think about you that way,” he continues. “I know. I know I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

A pause. “What?”

“Why is it wrong?”

He’s quiet. Then, “Because you don’t want it.”

“How do you know?”

His hand rests at your hip, a comforting hold. He’s quiet as you reach down to take his hand in yours and guide it up to your lips. You press a kiss to the side of his hand, just below his thumb. A slow kiss, one you hope conveys all the meaning you intend it to.

When you release him, he doesn’t move. Not apart from brushing his thumb over your lips. He can’t see at all what he’s doing, still behind you in the dark room. He goes by feel, playing with your lower lip until—with a tiny amount of pressure—he pushes inside. Your lips wrap around him, taking his thumb as he presses it to your tongue.

Then he starts whispering, “I wanted to hold you down, press you into the counter and lift the shirt a little higher.”

You hum around his thumb, wrapping your own fingers around his wrist to hold him there. You’re not dreaming, you’re sure of it. You’re awake and sandwiched between the two people you love most. It’s surreal. This was always the way it would have gone. Chris was always going to be the one to bring you all together, finally.

He continues, “How would you sound?” His breathing is heavier now. “If I fucked you against it? Would you make pretty little noises? Would you say my name?” His thumb moves in and out a little as you suck at it. “I can’t stop thinking about it. How warm are you… how would you suck me in…”

Minho makes a small noise and you both still, waiting to see if he’ll wake.

“Have you ever heard him whine your name?” Chris starts again. His low whispers are a little more hushed now. “He tries not to. He tries so hard. He usually does it in the shower, when he knows you aren’t home.”

Your grip tightens on his wrist.

Chris continues, “You know how he is: he’s shy.” Warm lips to your neck, a firm press. “He wants you though.” His nose brushes the skin behind your ear as he nuzzles a little further into you. Then he laughs, quiet and breathy. “He was so casual when he said you should sleep here, like he doesn’t wrap his hand around his cock and imagine he was brave enough to fuck you into the mattress.”

You pull your lips from his thumb, leaving it wet. “Are you—Are you sure?” you whisper, attempting to turn your head to face him. His hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place and preventing you from turning.

“I’d never lie to you, baby.” His fingers are gentle at your neck, his thumb stroking your skin slowly. “I love you.” It’s surreal hearing those words in such a new context. Whispered into your neck as his wet thumb traces patterns against your throat. “Should we wake him up? We’ll have to be gentle,” he murmurs into your hair. “Don’t want him to startle.”

“Chris?” It’s almost a whine.

“Mm?” he hums, hips pressed right up against you now.

“Love you too.”

His fingers press slightly into your neck as he adjusts himself behind you. “Mm, I know.” Then his hand drops from your neck, across your hips, to your lower back. He pushes you a little, moving you across the mattress towards Minho. He still has one leg draped over yours. “Make sure he does. I’m not sure if he knows the same way I do.” He nudges you a little more. “Go on.”

Minho’s lips are parted. You reach to brush his plush upper lip with the tips of your fingers. Then, with far too much gentleness for someone trying to wake a person, you snake your hand around the back of his neck and into his hair. “Min,” you call gently as your fingers caress his scalp. “Minho.”

You watch his brows furrow as he stirs. Then his eyes flutter open. His lashes were visible even in the dim light. As you watch them flutter you’re reminded of a morning you’d awoken to find him half draped over you, his face buried in your neck. As his eyes had blinked open only minutes later, you’d felt them—his lashes tickling your neck like the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

“Mm?” he hums now, still blinking himself awake.

“I love you.”

He frowns, then grumbles something under his breath before rolling over away from you. You suspect he doesn’t understand how you mean it, that you don’t mean it exactly the way you always do. Another tactic then.

“Do you think about me in the shower?”

You feel the bed dip a little, Chris moving behind you. A tiny muffled noise follows. He was laughing into your pillow.

Minho is still.

You attempt to repeat yourself, “I said do you—”

“I heard,” Minho says, still facing away from you. His voice is rough from sleep. “What is he doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” the man in question answers from behind you. “Was kept awake by thoughts of bending our girl over the kitchen counter.”

Our girl. Our girl. Our—

Minho sits up. So quickly it startles you.

“Are you gonna answer her question?” Chris prods.

Minho rubs at his eyes as he turns to face you. You sit up, partly just so you can reach up and smooth down a tuft of stubborn hair that sticks out from his temple. He licks his lips. “What’s happening?” he mumbles.

“I love you,” you repeat. He looks at you now, in that way that clearly betrays the cogs are turning. You press your lips together in poorly suppressed fondness as he processes.

“You… love me?” he says finally.

You press a kiss to his cheek in answer, an innocent peck.

“Answer the question,” Chris says from his reclined position on your pillows, clearly enjoying the show. You don’t turn to him, but you can picture the grin on his face clear as day.

Minho blinks. You decide to help him a little, “In the shower?”

His eyes drop, breaking eye contact.

“I have too,” you offer. “I’ve thought about you.” His eyes are back on yours. You’re half tempted to call a pause so you can flick a light on. The darkness is stealing the depth of his brown eyes from you. “I only ever think about either of you—both of you sometimes. I felt a little guilty… I-I didn’t want you to—”

“Both… of us?” he interrupts.

You can only nod. What do you say to that?

Then he’s looking over your shoulder, engaging in a silent exchange with Chris. They did this often. You wonder if they’re able to communicate without words because they were merely remembering conversations they had when you weren’t around. Had they had a conversation about you? About this?

An arm snakes around your waist. Chris drops a soft kiss to your neck, pressing himself so close behind you you’re practically enveloped by him. Safe. Minho reaches towards you, it’s hesitant and you hold your breath as his fingers brush your cheek. Don’t startle him.

“Me more though, mm?” he asks with a small tilt of his head and a lopsided smirk.

Chris rocks you to the side a little as he laughs, detaching Minho’s palm from your cheek. That’s the way he was: Minho. Layers of wit and charm blanketing a soft interior. You don’t give me a chance to retreat any further, falling forward out of Chris’ arms and forcing Minho to catch you in his own. He helps you settle in his lap, lifting you a little as you rearrange your limbs.

“This doesn’t mean I wanna share with anyone else,” you start as you brush the hair from his face. “Just us, yeah?”

He nods. His eyes flick over your shoulder and then drop to your lips. “Just us,” he agrees. Then his lips are brushing yours, teasing just like his words so often are. You pull him to you properly by the back of his neck, his grown out hair offering you plenty of leverage to hold him where you need. He lets you take from him, lets you guide him. Teasing… and then giving. That’s the way he was.

Chris settles himself behind you. He litters your neck with kisses as you squirm a little in Minho’s lap, attempting to have more, more, more. Your arms are practically wrapped around his head as you lift a little on your knees, grasping at his hair until Chris is pulling you off him. You take in the way you’ve left Minho as you’re tugged back against the other man. His hair is a mess, lips wet and slightly parted as he catches his breath. You’re tempted to reach out and grab at him like a baby reaching for candy.

But then you’re distracted, tipped onto your side and pulled tight against a solid torso. “There’s no rush,” Chris says with a breathy laugh. “He’s not leaving.” You meet Minho’s eyes as Chris returns his thumb to your mouth. “There you go,” he encourages. “Good girl.”

Your breathing settles back into a normal rhythm. He was right. You’d been frantic, desperate. If you rush it’d be over—the last thing you want. You can’t help rolling your hips a little though, not when Minho is looking at you the way he is, watching as you suckle on Chris’ thumb. They were yours. Take your time.

You reach for Chris’ wrist, wrapping your fingers around it as Minho lays his head on his pillow. Chris rolls his hips into you as you pull his finger from your mouth, slowly, right to the tip. He presses his finger back in before you have a chance to do it yourself. You tug him free of your lips. “I thought there was no rush?” you whisper.

His lips ghost over your earlobe as he speaks, “Am I being greedy?”

“You stole her,” Minho answers before you can.

“I saved you,” Chris argues before pressing his lips behind your ear. “She was devouring you.”

“Maybe I wanted to be devoured.”

You reach for Minho’s hand and bring his finger to your lips, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. Chris resumes his grinding as you slip Minho’s finger into your mouth. Devour. It feels like an appropriate description as you lay there sucking on his finger with Chris leaving messy kisses at your neck. “What would you like?” he mutters between kisses. “Tell me what you want.”

It’s a loaded question. You decide to answer as simply as you can, distracted by the way Minho watches you suck on his finger. He licks his lips as you pull him from your mouth. “Fuck me like this. Just like this. Surrounding me.”

“Surrounding you?” Chan questions, his hand at your stomach holding you firm against him.

“Mm. Feels safe.. I-I like being between you.”

He presses his face into the hair behind your ear. “You’re safe, baby.” His hand slips into the waistband of your shorts. “Always.”

Minho shuffles a little closer to you, close enough that he can replace his finger with his lips. You go practically limp as they each prepare you—Chris with his fingers playing with your cunt, and Minho with his tongue in your mouth and his hand up your shirt. Surrounded. It’s so easy to lose yourself like this, to roll your hips and grasp at Minho’s hair, to forget about any shame as you let small whimpers escape into his mouth. Chris is playing, it’s the perfect word to describe the way his fingers prod and swipe at your cunt. He must feel how you drip for him, how his fingers slip easily through your folds, but you’re alone with the desperate pulse—the emptiness that begs to be filled with a dull throb.

Minho makes a small noise as you tug a little too hard at his hair. He squeezes your breast in his hand as punishment, his palm warm and perfectly sized to hold you. “Are you getting desperate again?” Chris mumbles into your neck. “Be gentle with him, baby.”

You whimper a little, nipping at Minho’s lip in defiance. He pulls back a little and a flood of anxiety floods into your chest at the thought he might be leaving, that you’d pushed it too far. But then he’s shuffling down the bed and lifting your shirt up, tugging the fabric up above your tits. He stays there, his breath warm against your nipples as his fingers trace patterns across your skin.

“Listen,” Chris whispers. His fingers speed up without warning, strumming at your entrance—too low to brush your clit. His goal is clear when the wet sounds of your slick fill the room, his fingers stopping their rapid strumming to prod at your hole every few seconds. You should be embarrassed, you would be in any other situation. But not here. Not with them.

You feel Minho’s whispered, “Fuck.” His breath is hot before he latches onto your breast. It’s a wonderful distraction as your shorts and underwear are tugged down your legs and discarded, as Chris aligns himself behind you and slips his cock between your legs. The tip brushes your click as he grinds into you like this. Minho’s head is perfectly placed to entangle your fingers in his hair and hold him to your chest as he continues sucking at you.

It should be overwhelming. It’s all new and so much, so, so much. But it isn’t. You’re home. You’re surrounded. You’re with them. You practically float as you’re pressed between them, as they consume you.

You’re grateful Minho insists on sleeping with the air conditioning going, now more than ever. Heat surrounds you. Minho’s hot mouth at your breast. Chris’ cock hot between your legs and his warm chest pressed to your back. Heat.

“Do you want me now?” Chan says, voice a little strained. His cock nudges your entrance, tip prodding and retreating over and over. “You want me to fuck you into Minho, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

His teeth graze your skin as he pushes in, the ghost of a bite—followed by a low moan. You cling to Minho as you’re filled, holding him to your chest as his tongue laves at you—devouring.

You squeak as Chris pulls out and fucks back in suddenly, shoving you slightly up the bed. Minho makes a small sound before reattaching himself, determined not to be disturbed. Chris is a little gentler after that, deep and slow rolls of his hips that have you pressing into Minho each time. Eventually he detaches from you and moves up the bed. You expect him to kiss you. Instead he keeps just fair enough away that you can’t lean forward and capture his lips. He watches your face, traces his eyes across your features as Chris fucks you from behind.

You should feel exposed. But you don’t. You always liked when his eyes were on you. He reaches to lift some hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as Chris fucks into you. Then he leans in, so close his lips brush yours. Each thrust of Chris’ hips bring you tantalisingly close to joining. Teasing and giving, that was Minho. You wait for him to give. It only takes a minute or so longer. Then he’s pressing right up against you, practically crushing you between their two bodies as he bites into your shoulder.

You cum with Chris’ fingers on your clit and Minho’s teeth on your neck.

“Do you want my cum?” Chris groans. “I’ll make you all messy for him. Do you want that? He can fuck it back inside you for me.”

All you can do is nod, a weak noise accompanying it. Minho’s lips are on yours a second later, wet and messy as you let him take what he needs. He swallows the whimper you release as Chris shoves into you one last time and releases inside you. You’re surrounded by heat, pressed between them tightly.

Chris grinds into you again for a moment, panting into your neck as you lay full of him. “Love you,” he murmurs finally.

Minho leaves a peck at the corner of your mouth. “Okay?” he asks. Your fingers massage his scalp a little as you hum in response.

“Need you though.”

“Now?”

“Mm. Now… in the morning… tomorrow night too.”

He smiles, lopsided and satisfied. “Why?”

“Love you.”

He drapes a leg over you as Chris slips from behind you and disappears into the bathroom. “Sorry?” Minho questions with a smirk. “Couldn’t hear you.”

You tug at his hair. “Don’t be a brat.”

He rolls you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “I do think about you,” he says, voice taking on a softer tone. He switched like that often, letting his walls down without warning. “Not just… not just in the shower. I think about you when I’m at work… when something happens and I’m stressed or—” he pauses, lowering himself onto his elbows. “I think about you a lot.”

“About fucking me?”

His nose scrunches as he drops his eyes. “Not just that. Just… in lots of ways.”

“I love you too.”

He drops his face to your neck as Chris reenters the room. You roll Minho back onto his side, allowing Chris to resume his position behind you—how you liked it.

It’s a little slower when Minho presses his body to yours and fills you. Less frenzied than Chris had been. He grinds his cock deep, pressing you into Chris’ chest. You silently curse the years you’d spent in your own bed, all the nights you could have been pressed between them like this. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. If you’d known how it felt to be sandwiched between them, to be full of one’s cum as the other fucks it deep inside—

“How does she feel?” Chris asks as his fingers wrap around your throat, a gentle cradle.

Minho groans in response, reaching to your hip to give him leverage as he sheathes himself right to the hilt. You forget to breathe as he speaks, “Hot… Hot and dripping, fucking sloppy.” Your breath is forced back into your lungs as he suddenly pulls out and fucks back in. “Listen.” He jostles you into Chris as he speeds up, filling the room with the wet sound of his cock fucking the cum into your already wet cunt. He was shy. He was your shy best friend and he was demonstrating how wet you were to the man pressed to your back.

You latch onto his neck, forcing him to slow as you press your teeth into his skin. His hips stutter a little before he resumes, a scattered pattern much less controlled than the one he’d started with. You lick at the bite mark when you’re done. “You’re so good,” you whisper. “You’re mine.”

When he cums it’s with a gasp of your name. You imagine it’s how he sounded in the shower, how he’d sounded all the times he’d thought of you. Had he ever thought of you like that a few hours before you’d crept into his bed to seek comfort.

Chris reaches over you as Minho catches his breath. “Let me feel,” he whispers before his fingers are on you, playing with your dripping entrance and strumming at your clit until you cum with his hand around your throat.

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 15 days

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Standing a step behind you, watching you from afar, is already my biggest happiness.

Sorry for spamming I accidentally put the post in queue two times, this is the proofread and correct one the previous one is not :']

Price + Ghost*Reader

Price

Price doesn’t want to bind you to him. He’s nearly 40, plus the rank difference between you two, he’s a mature superior, no personal feelings should be involved in the workplace.

Not to say, he doesn’t sense even a tiny bit of romantic love from you, every time he tries to hide his affection towards you, he only sees respect for comrades in your eyes.

Even till the day you jump out and take a bullet for him as he gets knocked down accidentally, which ends up with the enemy dying, but you become lifeless in his arms, blood painting his palms and gear, he still believes you just view him as a teammate.

As he steps into your silent quarter and reads the words written in the journal, he slumps onto the bed, speechless as sorrow swallowing him that he needs to bite his lips until he tastes the bitter to stop him from crying.

“Personal feelings won’t be allowed, I can see Captain comply with this rule without exceptions.” “but it’s okay if it means I can stay beside him.” “It’s already a bliss that I can watch him from afar.”

He’s seasoned with gravel and pain, which ends up making a choice to free you from caging with him and hide his love, but unknown to him, you’re better at secreting yourself.

Ghost

He’s an expert at hiding and perceiving other’s feelings, not a single human —even his captain— is able to conceal the true thoughts running in their mind from him.

He knows he views you differently , not the family love like he owns for other 141 members, but the need to stay beside you forever, become old together if you both are pardoned from dying on the field at a young age.

The emotion plants a seed in his heart, sprouting as time flows, and when he realizes, the branches are already entangled with his heart.

Yet he chooses to lock those feelings inside the deepest part of him, he stares at you secretly with an amount of distance, always got your six and protects you, but never closer.

He’s afraid if standing too close to you, the sentiment will break through his mask and reveal it to you.

No one left behind, that’s his motto, yet he derogates it the moment he watches you shove the enemy badgering him off his body and over the railing, but he can’t catch your hands as he helplessly witnesses you tumble over inevitably.

You leave nothing, not even your body has been found, since the bomb exploded and perish you and the enemy together.

But when he flips through your journal in your room, he takes off his balaclava, letting it fall to the floor carelessly, as he discovers it does nothing to hide the truth from you.

“Something’s holding Ghost back, but I can wait, until he’s comfortable enough to take a step, even if it means years.” “I imagine we getting old together, but am I provided with such privilege?” “Maybe not, hence I’m already extremely satisfied to have a chance to watch him from afar.”

He assumes he’s excels at observing people, but what he’s unaware of is after he stares at you across the room and turns away eventually, your eyes land on him and never dart either.

a/n: thx for reading, have a nice day/night! :D

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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The Quiet Ones 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: don't ask me why I did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up.

You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around.

You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready.

You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.

“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl.

You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite.

“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head.

You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you.

You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window.

You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off.

It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated.

Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.”

You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order!

You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.

The blue loafers!

“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out.

You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all.

You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders.

“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.”

You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you?

“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.”

You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it.

“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you.

“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.”

Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks.

You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter.

More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you.

You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual.

You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.

You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him.

“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests.

You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that.

“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers.

You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise.

As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?”

You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again.

His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces.

You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.

As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.

You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone.

You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime.

“Hello, can I help you?” She asks.

“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.”

You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way.

👄

When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you.

You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic.

You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger.

You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner.

You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway.

You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him.

👄

Wednesday. Halfway through the week.

You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way.

Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week.

You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier.

You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks.

The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman.

Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment.

You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.”

“No--”

You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button.

“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat.

“I don--”

You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--”

“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery?

“I’m not expecting a delivery.”

“Are you...” he says your name again.

“... yes.”

Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?”

“Uh, I guess.”

You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation.

You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole.

You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.

As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real.

He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame.

“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #the quiet ones #dark!fic #series #the gray man

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mickeyswhore · 7 months

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I'm Gonna Kill You

A/N: My first time posting a fic in this brand new side blog, if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging it and if you want more you can follow me.

Summary: Randy is your best friend in the entire world, Billy doesn't enjoy the power he has over you and decides to do something about it.

Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: toxicity all around, a splash of daddy kink, filming without consent, a little bit of degradation, death (I mean it's Scream) but nothing gory, let me know if I missed anything else.

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey.

You and Randy were born on the same day, your mothers went to High School together so the two of you were bound to become best friends. Your friendship with Randy is great, the two of you spend most of the time together and you barely ever fought. There is one massive problem in your life and you weren’t even aware of, Randy loves you, he loved you since you stood up for him in kindergarten but you were obvious to his love, Randy was happy to be just your friend but that doesn’t mean he would allow you to have a love life.

You trust Randy with your life, if he says that someone is not good for you, you listen no questions asked. Randy takes full advantage of the power he has on your life, a sick power

play that you weren’t even aware of. If pressed on the issue, Randy would swear up and down that it is for your own good, but he knows the truth, he’s too scared to admit his true feelings but more than happy to cock block you without you being aware.

Being a virgin was one of your main concerns in your otherwise uneventful life, you had Randy as your best friend and a few acquiescences mainly Sidney, Tatum, Stu and Billy. You loved hanging out with them even if you weren’t as close, Stu made you laugh to the point of almost peeing your pants, Sidney and Tatum were extremely and the three of you went shopping at least once a fortnight. The only person you didn't spend time with was Billy, not because you didn't like him, quite the contrary he simply intimidated you too much to allow you to exchange pleasantries with him, his piercing chocolate brown eyes made you all warm and tingly inside.

You never said anything to Sid and Tatum because Sid and Billy used to be a couple in Elementary School and Tatum was her best friend, Stu was too much of a jokester to take anything seriously and he would run to Billy and the two of them would probably laugh, not because they were cruel but simply because Stu would never take this seriously. Then there was Randy, the only person that knew everything about your life except this major crush on Billy Loomis but life goes on.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend were murdered and the whole town was on edge, and Randy was going on and on about horror films and you thought it was in poor taste, this isn’t a film! People are dead! So you gave him the bullshit excuse of getting your period and you basically qucicked him out of your house.

You decided to go to a coffee shop and just be alone for a change, you said hi to the barista gave her your order and after getting your drink you were sitting down by the window. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular but Billy Loomis came to the forefront of your mind, as he usually does. His eyes, his lips, his hair. As if it was on queue, Stu Macher spots you from across the road and ran towards the coffee shop.

“Stu, how are you?” You smiled seeing him, maybe that meant Billy was nearby? Stu didn't miss your eyes wondering, looking for Billy.

“I’m good, you know? Hey, would you like to hang out? Tatum is busy right now and you’re super cool, so…” Before you could he was getting your bag and helping you get up, you simply laughed and followed him, you truly enjoyed his company.

You’ve to Stu’s house a couple of times but only with Randy, maybe this was a good opportunity to actually be friends with Stu. He opened the door for you and allowed you to get in, he was helping you remove your jumper when you heard Billy’s voice.

“Where the fuck were you? Did you bring the…” Billy stopped in his tracks when he finally saw you, and Stu couldn’t stop grinning. Billy wanted to get alone with you for ages but Randy was always there, Stu really did him a solid.

“Oh man, I totally forgot I ran into her and totally slipped my mind. I’ll be right back, you don’t mind being here with Billy, right?” You looked at Billy who was already looking at you and you looked down and shook your head. “Okay, bye.” And just like that Stu was out of the house.

You still kept your gaze down, playing with your shirt. It was so hard to keep eye contact with Billy Loomis.

“Hey, we can watch something on the TV.” You simply followed Billy but still keeping your gaze down, Billy thought you were the hottest girl at school and now he has you all to himself, he really needed to thank Stu later. The two of you sat down and Billy decided to break the silence. “You don’t like me very much, do you doll?” You finally looked at him with a frown on your face and Billy was smirking. “There she is.” He whispered with a hint of a smile on his face, his thumb went to your chin and goosebumps rose all over your body, Billy wasn’t blind to the effect he had on you.

Billy wanted you since the two of you were freshmen, but Randy was always hanging around you like a leach, in Billy’s eyes. He wanted to kill Randy as his and Stu’s first victim but Billy wanted Randy to suffer after hearing the two of you talking. Randy let it slip rather loudly that you and him were still virgins and Billy thought Christmas came early. He wanted you for the longest time and finding out he was going to be the first man in your life, to touch you, to make you cum? His cock got incredibly hard just thinking about you moaning underneath him, riding him and eating you out like you were his last meal.

“I like you, Billy…it’s just that…” You took a deep breath, how could you explain your predicament?

“You don’t want to hurt Randy’s feelings?” Billy almost believed his own tone, it felt so sincere and honest, he almost wanted to laugh at the relief on your face.

“Yes, we’re not dating or anything.” You wanted especify, and Billy smiled. “But he’s my best friend, literally since day one. And I have no idea why he doesn’t like you very much.” You started playing with your nails and Billy raised your chin to look in your eyes, his piercing gaze was giving you burtterfiles in your stomach.

“We can take this slow, yeah? I want to do this right and take you out for dates and you be my girl, yeah?” Billy looked at you expectantly, and you nodded biting your lip. After that, he kissed you. He couldn’t believe that he finally got the girl of his dreams.

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

It has been months since you and Billy started dating, and you couldn’t be happier even with the killings getting progressively worse. You had Billy to protect you, so things weren’t as scary. The only problem was Randy, he comes to your house unannounced and Billy has to hide and it’s always when the two of are about to fuck, it seemed that Randy had this radar to find out when you were about to lose your virginity and it was driving you and Billy insane. You were more than ready for this and Billy had major blue balls for months.

The two of you were now at school, talking in the hallway. Billy wanted nothing more than to take you to the nearest bathroom and fuck you in the stall but he knew that you deserved much better than a quick and cheap fuck, you were his dream girl.

“I asked my parents for the lake house this weekend and they allowed. I can pick you up right after school, is that okay?” You nodded and smiled, you couldn’t believe how romantic and thoughtful your boyfriend was. The two of you were very good in not having PDA at school but you were so excited that you kissed him and Billy was more than happy to oblige.

His hands went to your waist and yours went straight to his hair, Billy’s hnads were about to land on your ass when the two of you heard his voice.

“Unbelievable.” Randy yelled and you stopped kissing Billy, you had a guilty look on your face but Billy was angry. “You’re with him? Mr. I am clearly a serial killer.” Billy was about to beat Randy up when you stopped him.

“Look, Randy. I am so sorry for not telling you before but saying this shit about Billy is not cool. If you can’t accept him, don’t talk to me again.” You grabbed Billy’s hand and walked away while Billy had the biggest grin on his face. Once the two of you were outside, he hugged you.

“Are you alright? I know how important Randy is to you, I don’t want to get in the middle of your friendship.” Billy was selling this so well, and you just smiled and shook your head.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever! And no, don’t ever say that, Randy will come around eventually. I don’t want this to stop our little getaway.” You were going to handle Randy later after you spent time with your boyfriend.

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

Billy’s car stopped right in front of the house, it was so pretty and quiet you loved it. Billy took both of your suitcases and guided you to the front of the house. The door was opened and everything inside was very rustic, it was perfect and apparently Billy’s parents had people come and clean in preparation of your stay there, they were always so thoughtful. Billy put your suitcases on the floor and looked at you.

“So, do you want a tour of the house?” He smiled at you.

“Start with the bedroom.” You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist and Billy did exactly that.

He opened the door and dropped you on the bed, even though you were a virgin Billy could tell that you liked it rough. Every bite that was a little too rough, you had to stop yourself from moaning and rubbing your thighs together, every whispered ‘good girl’ on your ear made you sigh and bite your lip and one small ‘my little slut’ made you moan.

“I’m gonna fuck you right now, baby. Is that what you want? I wanna hear you beg.” Billy started kissing your neck and biting it and nodded your head fervently. You wondered if people could die of horniness for a second. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want from me?” Billy was taking off his shirt and still kissing you.

“I want you to fuck me, daddy.” You put your hand over your mouth, he wasn’t supposed to know but Billy had the biggest grin on his face.

“Yeah? You want daddy to destroy your little pussy even though is your first time? Is that what you want?” Billy finally started removing your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“Please, daddy. Fuck me, I need it please.” You didn't care about sounding needy, Billy was your boyfriend and you loved him and he loved you.

Billy’s cock was so hard and you could see how big it was even through his underwear, your mouth was watering at the sight.

“Does my needy little slut wants me to fuck her throat?” Billy removed his underwear and you could see his cock leaking with pre cum, it has been so long since he fucked anyone.

“Yes, please daddy.” You got on your knees and looked at him with the biggest innocent eyes he has ever seen, fuck Billy could cum right now just by looking at you.

“Open your mouth, baby.” You did exactly that, you licked the head of his cock tasting his pre cum and you slowly started to take him in your mouth. Billy was very patient and you took his cock so well, Billy out his head back and groaned loudly. He also made sure that the camera was at the right angle.

Billy’s hands went to your hair, you were hollowing your cheeks and also playing with his balls. He held your head in place and started to fuck your throat, the noises you were making were pornographic and Billy loved every second of it.

“Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Billy removed his hands from your head but you kept sucking his cock. “Fuck, baby.” Billy came, thick ropes of cum down your throat and you swallowed it all. You were still on your knees and you opened your mouth you to show Billy that you swallowed it all. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” He helped you get up and kissed you passionately, he finally removed your bra and took one nipple in his mouth, now it was your turn to get your hands on his hair, Billy carefully laid you on the bed and removed your panties.

Billy opened your legs started sucking on your clit, he was relentless and again your handd went to his hair. You were moaning and panting, the feeling of his hot, wet tongue on your pussy is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Billy was enjoying very much seeing you fall apart with only his tongue.

Your moans started getting louder, and the grip on his hair got stronger. Billy’s tongue was working faster to bring your orgasm quicker, he also inserted a finger to slowly start stretching you out. He was was observing all of your reactions, how your legs were shaking and how your moans were louder by him finger fucking you.

“Billy, I think I’m gonna…” You knew your body very well, but this was different.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my face.” Billy sped up his ministrations on your clit and you pulled his hair and you came hard, your eyes were shut and pleasure that you never felt before ran all over your body. When you finally came to it, you felt under the bed wet, quite wet. When you looked over, you started panicking.

“Oh my God, Billy I’m so sorry. I have no idea why this happened?” Billy shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“No, baby. You just squirted and it was hot as fuck.” He kissed you and he laid on the bed again.

Billy pinched your nipples and you moaned into his mouth, his hands were all over your body and vice versa. Billy was about to burst, he was painfully hard again and he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Are you ready, baby?” Billy put his hand on your cheek and his eyes were looking into yours and you’ve never felt more connected with him before.

“More than ever, Billy.”

“Okay, I’ll go slow. Let me know if it hurts, alright?” You nodded and Billy positioned his cock at your entrance, he was looking at it then at you.

You felt his thick and veiny cock on your pussy, Billy had to contain himself and not cum at that second. Your velvety walls milking him, Billy was groaning and moaning in your ear, inch by inch his cock was entering you. Billy was fully inside you now and stopped to compose himself, your pussy felt like heaven to him. You on the other hand was almost passing out from the overwhelming pleasure his cock was giving you and you wanted, no, needed more.

“Please move, Billy.” He obliged and started moving slowly, the last thing he wanted was to hirt you. He found a comfortable pace for him and you. “Harder, please.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and with that all of his self control was gone.

Billy started punding into your pussy with reckless abandon, your nails digging on his back the noises coming from felt like you were in a porno.

“Do you like that, baby? Is that what you wanted my dirty little slut, huh?” His filthy words were driving you insane. You started clenching around him and Billy started laughing condescendly. “You like that, huh? You like being my little slut?” You only nodded, the pleasure wouldn’t allow you to speak, the noises were louder and louder. “Are you cock drunk already, baby? You can’t even speak right, can you? I want you to cum on my cock, baby.” Billy’s thumb went to your clit and started making hard and small circles, he wanted to see you falling apart.

“Billy, I’m gonna…” You didn't finish your sentence, and you came on his cock and Billy helped you ride out your orgasm. Billy started chasing his own orgasm, you were sensitive but the line between pleasure and pain were blurred and that resulted in more pleasure for you.

“You’re gonna take my cum, aren’t you baby? You’re gonna let me cum deep inside your pussy, imagine if I got you pregnant?” You clenched around him and Billy laughed. “You want everyone to know that you’re my little slut? Walking around with a big belly and huge tits full of milk?” Billy stopped and came with a groan, he was breathless. He kissed you and removed his cock out of you. He laid down and pulled you over to him, he started kissing the top of your head and caressing your arm.

“Did you enjoy that?” You asked and Billy could sense the vulnerability in your voice.

“That was the best thing that ever happened to me, you were perfect baby. I love you.” He kissed your forehead and you mumbled ‘I love you too’ and you fell asleep rather quickly. After making sure you weren’t going to wake up, Billy got up and stopped recording, he couldn’t wait to put his plan into action.

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

Randy was pissed, your mom told him that you went on a trip with Billy. I mean what were your parents thinking? Allowing you to be alone with that serial killer? But you were about to come back and Randy was going to do everything in his power to break the two of you up. You never dated anyone before, you couldn’t! You belonged to Randy and he was going to make sure of that, no matter what.

Randy got in his bedroom, he found a tape that was odd he didn't recognise it. He put it in the VHS anyway, and he recognised you immediately, on your knees for Billy Loomis, Randy was about to take the tape and show it to you how Billy is gross and you should break up with him, but he got a call.

“Hello, Randy.” The modulated voice said.

“Billy, you sick fuck. I’m gonna fucking destroy you, she’ll never look at you again.” Randy was screaming, he couldn’t wait to destroy your relationship, that way you would fall for Randy and realise no one but him is good enough for you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that Randy.” The voice was tauting him and Randy was furious.

“And why is that?” Ghostface opened his closet and was right behind Randy.

“Dead men tell no tales.” Randy turned around but only in time to be stabbed in the neck, after that Ghostface grabbed the tape and left Randy’s house.

Billy was with you when you heard that Randy was killed by Ghostface, he comforted you and said that everything was going to be okay.

“I was angry at him the last time we saw each other, I’ll never forgive myself.” Billy shused you and said that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t have known.

Billy held your hand through the funeral and made sure you didn't fall apart, you were so lucky to have in your life. Billy was overjoyed, he had his girlfriend all to himself and he didn't have to hide or worry about the nerd that hanging over her, everything was right in the world.

#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis smut #billy loomis imagine #scream 1996 #billy loomis

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 1 month

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I’m Sorry I Wasn’t Enough

Neteyam x reader

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader Mate

Warnings: Mentions of Arranged Marriage, violence, blood.

Summary: A year after your marriage you are looking back on things, more specifically your non existent relationship with your mate. When something happens and you’re in danger how will Neteyam react? Oh and you’re injured?

****************************************************

Today marked the one year anniversary of your bonding ceremony to the future oleykten of the omatikaya. One year and one month since your life had changed forever

Neteyam te Sully, son of Toruk Makto… your husband. You remember it like it was yesterday..

The war with the sky people had gotten increasingly difficult, Toruk makto had been meeting with your Grandfather to discuss a potential alliance between the clans to aid in the fight against the sky people.

It was a shock to all when your Grandfather said they would only help if there was a blood alliance. Meaning you, the sole heir were to be married to Neteyam, there clans heir.

It was a smart move for all parties involved on paper. A decision that would strengthen everyone, combining resources, combining armies, combining… well everything. But happiness for everyone else unfortunately meant the sacrifice for you and Neteyam.

Toruk Makto had asked you many times if you were alright with it, to which you politely said you were ready to do anything to aid the cause against the sky people.

It’s not like you could have said anything else.

Your parents were not alive to defend you, your grandfather was a good leader but couldn’t care less about your happiness. “Good leaders need to make sacrifices for the people.”

Neteyam understood the same thing. He also wanted nothing more than to prove himself.

So you both agreed without so much as having more than one conversation together.

Within a few days you had packed all your belongings and were mounting an Ikran. Your new life awaited you.

A month later you were mated before Eywa to Neteyam. Bonded in every way except the heart.

Neteyam wasn’t cruel no but he was… serious. The heavy burden of war on his responsible shoulders. He was civil with you. Spoke when nessesary to you but other than that… you barely ever saw him.

His days were either filled with preparing for raids or the raids himself and he would enter your home pod late when you were asleep and leave at first light.

The only time you ever felt any sort of emotion from him was during your first and only mating bond. Connecting your queues forced emotion to flow through the both of you, and he had been gentle and caring. But you realized soon after that that was a one time occurrence and that warmth was not a thing your mate was capable of.

Well at least not with you. He was caring with his family, you’d watched him interact with them from afar. He was careful not to show this side of him to many but you did manage to see it several times before he noticed you were there, then he’d swiftly mask his face.

You really didn’t understand his coldness. You were mated for life shouldn’t you both make an effort to at least be friends?

You tried to be someone he would proud to call his mate. You helped around the village, especially with the wounded, you made sure not to fight with anyone and keep a cool head. You did everything you could but he never saw you.. never saw your efforts.. even though you saw his.

Over the year you watched your mate. You grew to admire his strength and character. Perhaps that is why it hurt so much. You had feelings for a man who barely acknowledged your existence.

You let out a deep sigh. The trees of the forest were the only ever witnesses to your sorrow. You adjusted your net covering around you. It was getting colder, your old home never reached cool temperatures so you were not prepared for it.

You really didn’t have friends save for Neteyams siblings. And even there you didn’t spend that much time with them seeing how much trouble they liked to get into. You didn’t want to risk upsetting your mate.

You would admit that you were lonely however. When you weren’t needed in the village you spent your time exploring the never ending forest that was your home. You weren’t raised in one so you were always venturing out and exploring.

Today however due to your more than usual sadness, what with it being your anniversary and all you had walked further than you intended.

You paused your steps hearing several voices up ahead, what were Navi doing all the way out here?

You slowly crept closer to the sounds but made sure to stay hidden behind the trees.

Your eyes widened when you caught sight of the Navi- no Avatars that were clad in military gear and holding AR’s.

You carefully moved backwards until you were out of earshot.

You knew you had to tell your mate. They were clearly dangerous.

You felt for the weird contraption around your neck, you never had to use it before. You pressed down on it,

“N-neteyam?” You spoke shakily.

A few seconds passed before you heard a click. “Y/n…? Is that you?”

You could hear the slight confusion in his voice. At least he recognized you.

“Y-yes um, I’m out in the forest and there’s these Avatars… but they don’t look normal, they are dressed in camo and are holding AR’s…”

“What’s you pos?”

“W-what?” You furrowed your brows.

“Your position, where are you right now?” He spoke a bit more sternly.

“I’m-“

Wait where were you?

“Y/n?”

“I’m not sure but they were standing in front of an old worn down building..like a shack… something from the sky people I think..”

You could hear an intake of breath, “Y/n listen to me carefully, you’re going to get out of there without making a sound ok? Get back here immediately.”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “ok I’m coming” you released the button and started to run as quietly as you could back the way you came.

Adrenaline coursed through you, you looked back several times to ensure you weren’t being followed.

You stopped to catch your breath, hopefully this was far enough-

“Ah!” You cried out falling backwards seeing a fresh bullet lodged in the now smoking tree beside you.

You quickly regained your footing and started barreling forward.

A round of explosive pops rang from behind you, debris grazing your back.

Oh Great Mother help me!

You cried out as another bullet whizzed right by your ear causing you to lose balance.

You heard shouts but they spoke in a language unknown to you.

You moved to get up when suddenly your queue was yanked back forcefully.

You hissed at your abuser, but he only smiled. Again he spoke in a language you didn’t understand.

“L-Let me go!” You tried clawing at his hand but he only yanked harder causing your vision to go white in seering pain.

Was he going to kill you? You wish you could at least understand what he was shouting at you.

He used your queue to turn you harshly around. You hissed again now able to fully see your attacker.

He only rolled his eyes said something that again failed your understanding and swiftly backhanded you into the dirt.

While you lay on the ground in pain he held a hand to his ear saying something into his comm.

You had to do something, he was going to kill you or take you back to the others…

Your eyes perked up seeing something glinting strapped to his boot.

You figured it was best to attack while he was distracted…

I guess it’s now or never,

You swiftly grabbed the knife and plunged it into his stomach.

“Gah! You bitch!”

You didn’t stick around to see his reaction, you were already darting away. You heard the cocking of his gun and immediately started weaving through trees.

*POP* *POP* *POP*

It was a miracle you avoided all the bullets.

You made the mistake of looking back for a split second and found yourself tumbling over a root.

You gasped and tried to right yourself but he was already there pointing his gun.

Your eyes met his murderous ones and you knew this was it.

You let out one more frightened hiss and watched his finger start to pull.

*POP POP*

You couldn’t help the cry that left your mouth but- why weren’t you in pain?

“Y/N move!” Suddenly an arm was yanking you up onto your feet.

“N-neteyam!?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. He was about to speak when moments later more gunshots rang out. You gasped seeing more avatars emerging from the trees.

“Neteyam get her out of here! Move!” Jake jumped in front of you both and motioned for you to run. A few Navi warriors aiding him shooting their own weapons.

Neteyam pulled you through the trees at record speed, he quickly pulled you onto his Ikran before mounting it himself behind you and flying away. His eyes scanning the trees to make sure no one was aiming anything at them.

“Are you injured?” He asked in that raw tone he used in the middle of battle. Serious and to the point.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice not to crack. That was the last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of him.

He sighed before adjusting his reins. His silence was like poison. Slowly seeping into you making you feel ten times worse then when you were just under that guys gun.

You were breathing heavily when he landed the ikran on the mountain ledge.

He dismounted first then held out his hand, you let him help you down thanking Eywa that your legs didn’t give out on you in front of the entire village who were currently staring.

“Neteyam!” Tuk ran up and hugged your mate tightly.

The silly siblings all ran up to you guys asking what happened.

“Are you hurt sister?” Kiri eyed you up and down wearily.

“I’m alright, don’t worry…”

“Y/n!” Tuk was quick to switch to you and you embraced her warmly wanting to ease the fear on her face.

“Everyone is alright Tuk, please don’t cry…” you stroked her back calming her down, or maybe you were using her as a buffer.

You hesitantly glanced up to where Neteyam was speaking to his mother. He looked pissed. Neytiris eyes met your worried ones for a split second, softening slightly before turning back to her son. Her eyes widened in some sort of threat before sighing and coming to you.

“Are you alright daughter?” She placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m alright…I’m sorry for all of this I-“ she shushed you quickly.

“Don’t, it’s alright, everyone is alright…” you sighed and nodded to her thankful that she wasn’t upset with you for putting her family in danger.

“Y/n” you sucked in a breath and met your mates eyes. You wanted to let out a whimper at the anger they held.

He motioned for you to follow him. Every step felt like someone had placed a stone in your heart.

He pulled aside the flap of your tent and looked forward waiting for you to enter.

With shakey breaths you ducked under and stepped into your home.

Your fingers pulling at your netted covering as a nervous distraction.

You had seen Neteyam angry countless times before, at warriors who disobeyed orders. At his brother for causing trouble, at anyone who seriously stepped out of line.

You shivered in place now that for the first time that anger was directed at you.

He yanked the flap back down and rounded on you.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” His eyes shooting daggers through you.

“I-I I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

“Do you know how much danger you’ve put everyone in?! They could’ve followed you back to our village and done who knows what!”

“I never would have-“

“What were you thinking wandering around there!? That areas off limits for a reason!”

“I didn’t know- Neteyam I-!”

“Enough! I don’t want to hear your excuses.” You felt the tears running down your cheeks and it seemed to trigger Neteyam to at least bring his anger down a notch.

He turned around letting out a sigh,

He hated you, that was evident now. He may have hidden his distaste before but now that you had finally angered him his true colors showed.

It only made your tears come faster. The adrenaline finally wearing off, you realized just how scared you had been. Your body ached, craving nothing more than to curl up and rest.

Not to mention an annoying pinching feeling on your abdomen that was getting increasingly more painful. Like a sting from a beertus beetle.

You ignored it focusing on the man before you.

He held a hand up to his neck, you could hear his father speaking on the other side.

They talked for a minute, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that everyone was alright.

Neteyam ended the line and his head turned towards you. He seemed a bit calmer now that he knew everyone was ok.

Your eyes couldn’t handle his glare at the moment so instead they landed on the mat beneath you.

It was quiet for several moments, the air thick with tension.

“You are never to go there or anywhere near that area again understood?” He spoke to you like you were one of his soldiers.

“Understood…” your voice was hoarse but at least it didn’t break.

He nodded before turning to leave and meet with his father to discuss this new threat.

Your heard his footsteps start to fade which meant he was going to leave. Of course he would. Why would he want to stay with someone like you?

Your eyes were still glued to the mat. A beautifully woven mat that was a gift from your Mother in law. It was dyed in beautiful colors.

Huh? Did something spill on it? Your eyebrows furrowed seeing red droplets. Hopefully that wouldn’t stain.. was it juice? You hoped it-

Another drop, forming right before your eyes. You looked up at the ceiling, frowning when you didn’t see anything. Then something clicked and you moved your netted cover to the side, you expected to see a cut or deep scrape from your falls. But you felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped on you when you saw it.

Why Great mother? Why were you testing me like this?

You let out a distressed whimper. Your eyes shot to the entrance where your mate had just stepped out of seconds before. You could still hear his footsteps.

You could call to him. He would hear you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.. your mate already hated you. You would not tell him this and make him even angrier.

You would not tell him you had been shot…

****************************************************

You cursed realizing quickly that that was probably the dumbest mistake you had made. Because moments later you were too dizzy to stand and were sprawled out onto the floor clutching your side.

How could you get help now? Was this how you were going to die? It certainly looked like it..

You thought of your mate. He hated you, maybe it was…. You whimpered at your next thought.

Maybe this was for the better. He would find a new mate and be happy.

Yeah, you could do this for him… why should such a good person be miserable..?

But wait… would this damage his reputation? That he let sky people kill his mate?

Was this actually going to hurt him?

A Navi males reputation was everything. If he couldn’t protect his family who would trust him to protect the people.

No, you couldn’t be selfish. If you died, he would suffer in his position.

For the second time ever you reached up to your neck, fingers slippery from the blood.

“N-neteyam…” was that your voice? It sounded so different…

Would he even answer? He probably thought you were trying to make excuses for what happened. You tried calling out a few more times.

You felt your heart sink at the silence, it looked like he had shut the line off.

As your vision began to blur at the edges you realized that it looked like his reputation was going to suffer after all.

Even though you knew he wasn’t listening you held the button down once more, one final time…

“I’m s-sorry Neteyam.. I really tried to be a w-worthy m-mate.. I’m sorry I couldn’t do b-better mmh, p-pl.. please tell the p-people it was m-my fault not yours…I… I really did love you N-Neteyam, I-i h-hope your next mate will make you happy-“

Your fingers slipped from exhaustion and your vision failed you completely.

Goodbye my Neteyam…

****************************************************

Neteyam had never moved so fast in all his life.…

Ooooh a cliffhanger hehehe, also is anyone actually reading this? Should I do a part 2👀❤️

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lucvly · 6 months

Note

girllll please do a smut where matt is on tour the reader is on the phone with him and she starts hearing his heavy breathing and grunts so she stops talking and he says something like “keep talking pretty girl, im so close”

— radio, matt sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: smut smut smut. also this is short my bad. not proofread.

a/n: oh my god i saw this and knew i had to get cooking. i’m working on so many reqs rn be patient w me i beg !! sensitive stans dni i bite

at first, matt had begged you to come with him on tour, you two were together almost every day so it wouldn’t be all that different from your usual routine. however, as much as you would’ve loved to join him, you had to stay back home and tend to some important work matters. this meant having him away for almost a whole month.

not having your boyfriend around was painful to say the least. sure, you had work, family and friends to keep you busy, but nothing compared to having his presence right there next to you. of course, you texted every day at almost every hour, and you called each other every night to tell the other about your day and just hear each other’s voice.

on this specific night, matt asked you to call him a bit earlier than usual, which you didn’t mind at all. at the end of the day you got to hear your boyfriend’s voice, but it did seem a bit out of the ordinary.

“hi princess, nick and chris went to target to get some things we need, so i figured we could call a bit earlier.” matt spoke, his voice just as sweet as always, though you could sense a small smile in his voice. “tell me about your day, i wanna hear every detail.”

and that’s how an almost endless rant about your day started. you’d had an incredibly long day, you told him all about how you went to the bookstore in the morning and got some books that you’d been dying for, how you’d gotten some work done after that, then you told him about some meaningless argument you had with your mom.

“it was annoying, but– we’ll get over it.” you let out a soft sigh, laying back on your bed.

“i’m sure you will, baby.” matt’s voice seemed a bit deeper and breathier than usual.

his reply made your brows slightly furrow, normally he’d offer some sort of advice, try to comfort you or distract you but his reply was simply– underwhelming. he was never this quiet when it came to you. what on earth could he possibly be doing that made him go quiet— oh. as if on queue, to pull you out of your thoughts, you heard a shaky breath on the other line, followed by a slick and wet movement.

suddenly all the pieces started to click together in your head. was he jerking off? the thought of it made a small smirk appear on your face. you couldn’t believe him. he didn’t even have the decency to tell you so you could help him or join him? so that’s why he called you a bit earlier when his brothers were out, and that’s why he seemed so off throughout the call.

a part of you just wanted to go ahead and join him, tell him how much you’ve missed him over the past few weeks, how much you’ve been craving his fingers inside of you, or simply how much you’ve missed him inside of you. but the other part of you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. it was funny enough that he didn’t realize you were already catching onto his situation, teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt.

“what should i do? i’m just, upset. you know?” your voice managed to sound the slightest bit sad, yet a smirk was displayed on your face.

“i– yeah, i mean–” he cut himself off before reconsidering continuing further with an act he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with any longer. the slick sounds from the other line had picked up a quicker and swifter speed.

“hm?” you only let out a hum. knowing he was getting off to your voice was incredibly hot, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just– stopped talking. knowing you had full control over him without him even realizing it was simply arousing.

all that could be heard from the phone were soft grunts and heavy breaths, followed by some slick sounds which only made the smirk on your face grow slightly wider.

“fuck– princess, just do me a favor and keep talking for me, yeah? i promise i’ll make it up to you.” his voice was breathy, short pauses with shaky breaths between almost every word.

“care to tell me what’s going on?” you teased, letting out a soft giggle. you were just as turned on as he was, but you wanted to focus on your boyfriend’s pleasure first and foremost because of the short amount of time you had before his brothers came back.

“shit– just keep talking, pretty girl, i’m so close, please.” his breathing was shaky, you could hear the slick and wet sounds getting louder, picking up a quicker speed as a low grunt could be heard over the phone. “god, i miss you. i miss being inside of you.”

“and i miss having you here with me, i wish i could take care of you,” your voice was sweet, and your cheeks started to heat up with the tint of a soft pink color. “i miss you.”

your voice was needy and barely even audible, but those three words were all he needed to reach his release. the pace of the wet sounds managed to quicken even more before a soft “shit–” could be heard over the phone, followed by a slightly louder groan as the slick sounds began to cease.

“you’re the best, you know that?” his voice was almost a whisper. he was clearly tired out, his voice a bit deeper yet softer than usual.

“at least let me join next time,” you joked, playfully rolling your eyes as if he was right there next to you to see it. a small smile was still displayed across your face as you twirled a strand of hair around your finger.

“i will. i promise. next time will be all about you, princess.”

#lucvly #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut

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kitorin · 22 days

Text

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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haespoir · 9 months

Text

[ 3:17 am ]

now playing: cyber sex - doja cat

“mommy, please! i’m sorry!”

you don’t even want to question his choice of words when they wake you up from your nap, your boyfriend yelping and whining into his mic as he tries to outrun what seems to be an attempt on his life in his video game. donghyuck had promised that he would wake you up after an hour, but based on the grogginess you felt and the fact that sunlight no longer spilled through the curtains in his room, he had broken that promise.

not that you minded. you were never one to care much about having a set sleeping schedule, and you were positive you could live by just taking small cat naps throughout the day. donghyuck had always teased you for it, using it as an opportunity to call you his little kitten. you were sure it stemmed from his use of discord and being chronically online, but he didn’t let you argue.

without even speaking a word, you approach him at his desk and tap his arm. if he hadn’t moved his arm, you would think he was ignoring you from the lack of acknowledgement. but he lifts his arm from his keyboard and allows you to straddle his lap, the two of you now squished onto his chair. instantly, your hands are under his shirt, relishing in the warmth that his body supplies you. your own personal heater.

your head rests on his shoulder as you watch him play his game from the corner of your eye. in this position, you can clearly hear his friends yelling on the call. they even acknowledge your presence, which you only hum half-heartedly at. your boyfriend grumbles at the attention his friends give you, even if you don’t even offer them a single breath yet.

“nice shot, jeno. you’re so good,” you say, hoping donghyuck’s mic would pick up on your words. and it does. your back is turned to his second monitor, but if you had chosen to lay on your boyfriend’s other shoulder, you would see the way jeno’s eyes curve into a sweet smile at your words. all you can hear is his muffled voice from the headset as he thanks you. though you don’t see jeno’s reaction, you do feel donghyuck’s jaw tighten at the interaction.

“what about me? tell me i’m good too,” donghyuck whines, pressing a small kiss under your ear as he speaks lowly, the words only for you to hear. there was nothing you could do about his small jealous habits. “or else we’ll just show them how good i can be.”

you don’t offer him a verbal reply, but your hands travel higher up his shirt, ghosting over his nipples. you pinch them gently, eliciting a small moan from the male. thankfully, it seemed his game had ended. and you knew better than anyone that donghyuck loved to be productive during the long queues while waiting for a new game. using your body weight, you press into him, a small grin appearing on your lips when you get another noise of pleasure from donghyuck. he was too easy to please.

“should we give them a show?” he asks, the question is directed not only at you but to the discord call on his second monitor. you’re sure his friends nod at his words; this wasn’t the first time that you had interrupted their gaming session for some much wanted affection from your boyfriend, and it sure as hell was not going to be the last.

you grind against his hardening cock, loving the way he groans at the pressure. he slips his headset off and pushes away the mic arm attached to his desk, tapping the mic to mute it. the red light on his mic confirms that he is in fact muted, but the tiny led light on his webcam still glows green. the boys could either watch you, or they could hear you.

after all, donghyuck wasn’t kind enough to truly share all of you.

#7dreamnet #nct #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagines #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan hard hours #haechan fluff #haechan imagines #haechan drabble #haechan timestamp #nct smut #nct x reader #nct fic #haechan fic #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 5 months

Text

i've built my dreams around you

Summary: You find out Natasha's never been to a Christmas market. Considering you work at one, you do what any good partner would do: make her go around with you.

Word Count: 1618

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Request: Can you write natasha and reader celebrating christmas and reader takes natasha to her first christmas market?

Warnings: None that I can think of!

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone :) Comment and reblogs are always appreciated.

»»————-　★　————-««

“You’ve never been to a Christmas market?”

“I’ve crashed a car through one before-”

“Natasha!”

“What? That doesn’t count?”

“You know full well that doesn’t count. You’re supposed to embrace the spirit of Christmas, not destroy it!”

After a slew of horrified looks targeted at her, Natasha finally decided to spare your neck ache by spinning you around to face her for the continuing conversation.

“I have a break at 2 pm tomorrow,” you told her, “come visit and I’ll take you around?”

A smile spread on your girlfriend’s face, filling you with warmth as she wrapped her arms around you and pulled herself closer, nodding against your lips. “Sounds perfect,” she whispered, punctuating it with a brief kiss. “I can't wait.”

Neither could you – a Christmas with your girlfriend would be a dream come true, and as you watched her leave, your mind ceaselessly imagined romantic cliches of the two of you together and all the stalls that she might love. So hopelessly enamoured by her, you hadn’t even noticed your mistake, watching her figure until it disappeared through the doorway. But when you turned back to your baking, the absent slice of your freshly made brownies spoke for itself.

“Natasha!” you yelled.

The Avenger returned dutifully, poking her head around the doorframe with both a knowing smugness on her face and the necessary evidence held between her teeth.

“You couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“They’re delicious love, I see why you always sell out.”

Seeing through her deflection, you continued undeterred, “That was deception.”

“Well, I’m a spy.” With that, Natasha disappeared once more. You shook your head as echoes of her footsteps running upstairs met your ears, then turned back to the counter – you’d need to cook far more now that you’d invited a brownie thief to your stall.

»»————-　★　————-««

For every second ticking towards your promised 2 pm, another coat-clad customer extended the queue; the ever-growing line comprised of people vying for both your attention and whichever brownie they had set their sights on. As much as the business’s success was nothing to complain about, all you wished to see was a glint of your girlfriend’s red hair or the saving grace of your friend coming to cover your shift.

13:56. They would be there soon.

In the meantime, you near-mindlessly served customers, fulfilling order after order while daydreaming of all the stalls you planned to take your girlfriend to see. Until-

“I think I’ll try the Oreo blondie”

- her voice broke through the chatter of the market, snapping you instantly out of your head. This wasn’t just another customer in front of you, but Natasha, wearing the Christmas jumper you’d gifted her years before, jeans, a green jacket, and a beanie still half-folded over her distinctive hair.

You scoffed – though without hiding the smile that came with it – and shook your head. “I don’t serve brownie thieves,” you told her seriously.

“What am I dating a baker for if not for the free food?” she hit back.

“I don’t know. My good looks? My charming personality?”

“Your humour is definitely up there.”

“Hey!” you said in an image of false offence, before waving her along with the tilt of your head. “Now you’re really not getting a brownie today. Get in here and stop holding up the queue, there’s still-” a check of your watch- “two minutes more ‘til the backup arrives.”

Natasha grinned and wasted no time jogging to the side of the stall, entering and wrapping her arms around you from behind. “I’m still working, love,” you half-heartedly reminded her, then turned to a customer, “What flavours would you like?”

“Just missed you is all,” Natasha muttered in your ear, “and I am excited for today.”

You glanced back every so often, but still focused on reducing the queue as best you could. “I’m glad you are, Natty, but maybe you need to go find your teammate so we can enjoy it at all.”

“No need,” another familiar voice said from the side of the stall, “Natasha’s teammate is here. Is that how you refer to me? I introduced you two.”

“It’s usually ‘friend’, Wanda. ‘Natasha’s teammate’ when you’re late.”

“By one minute!”

“Shameful. Does Natasha not teach you any punctuality in training?”

“I do.”; “She’s too busy knocking me to the floor.”

“Oh, that’s true too,” Natasha nodded, pulling herself away from you to greet her teammate properly.

“Now the two of you get out of here and enjoy the market before I hit you with a brownie,” Wanda scolded lightly, twirling her fingers to subtly lift an off-display tray of brownies in warning.

You didn’t need to be told twice, and Natasha was already out of there. “I really do owe you one, thanks for this Wands.”

“If you get Natasha to go easy on me in training, I’ll call us even.”

“Nobody can get her to do that-”

“Are you coming?” Natasha interrupted from outside the stall.

“-So I guess I’ll still owe you one.”

You caught Wanda’s smile and the beginning of an eye roll even as you turned to run away, and you thanked everything that you’d ended up with a friend like her. Natasha was in similarly high spirits when you met her outside, with a loving gaze that lingered on you while you took her hand and began to show her around. You told her to stop eventually since even you could see that she forsook the beautiful Christmas scenery surrounding her in favour of you.

“I can’t help it,” she told you, “Christmas is about the things you love, isn’t it?”

“You’re sweet.”

“It’s something in the air.”

“That’s just the churros.”

“Haha, very funny,” she deadpanned.

“They do make the air sweet, same as my stall, or the waffles! Come on, let me get you something, it’s part of the full experience,” you promised, fulfilling all the plans you’d made in your daydreams. Natasha nodded her agreement, but her eager smile quickly morphed to shock when you took her wrist and ran off, weaving through the crowds and taking her with you until you reached the desired stand.

You pulled her closer once you arrived as a means of apology, then struck up a conversation asking how her day had been until then. Her hand began to hover over her coat pocket as she spoke, alerting you to her wallet’s whereabouts – it had become almost tradition for the two of you to fight over payments, each trying to treat the other, but after promising to be her guide, you refused to lose the battle this time. So you laced your fingers with hers and held her arm stiffly to the side, pulling your own card out the moment the order was made.

Natasha didn’t take it without resistance, struggling to free herself from your hold and even stating her intention to pay, but to no avail. You released her only once the payment had gone through, allowing her to take the churros from the seller.

“Thank you,” she muttered lowly, offering you a churro as she began to nibble on one of her own. The two of you strolled purposelessly through the crowds, side by side, and worked through the churros until Natasha held just an empty packet. After freeing her hand of the packet, Natasha’s first move was to take your hand in hers again – a move that caused you to recoil at the frigidity of her skin against yours.

“You’re freezing.” You jumped into action – taking the gloves from your pocket to pull them over Natasha’s hands, then touching her cheeks and forehead to see they were cold too. With nothing else to wrap her in, you wordlessly led your girlfriend to the nearest stall and ordered a hot chocolate for both of you to warm up with.

“There’s one more thing I want to do.”

“Is it the Ferris wheel?”

“Of course it’s the Ferris wheel.”

“Good,” Natasha said quietly, “we had the same idea then.”

You didn’t take her hand as you led her through the crowds this time – mainly because they were securely wrapped around her cup – but the two of you manoeuvred onwards to the rotating contraption. The sun had begun to set, and the queue had subsided enough that you were quickly led onto the ride and secured, marking the perfect end to the day.

With a whir of machinery, the two of you began to rise, watching the shops and crowds you'd spent hours pushing through shrink into a model village.

“I had fun,” Natasha said suddenly.

“Did you like the stalls?”

“The stalls, the food, the lights… I see why you love it.”

“Yeah, so crash your car elsewhere next time.”

She scoffed, but carried on, gazing down at the labyrinth of brightly lit cabins. “It's Christmas-y, but not enough for the full Christmas spirit.”

“What else-”

“It's the company that makes that,” she clarified, finally looking up at you and squeezing your free hand. “And I'm lucky enough to have the perfect companion.”

You'd reached the top by then, silence engulfed the two of you as the chatter of the crowd stilled with distance – up there, it was just you and her.

“You'll have me forever,” you promised. Your eyes drifted to where your hands met, surveying the left hand which – in just a couple more weeks – would no longer be without a ring. The token itself was entrusted to Yelena’s care until Christmas, until your plan could come to fruition.

“A lifetime of you and your baking,” Natasha mused, still unaware of how soon that dream may be, “sounds perfect.”

You smiled, shuffling close. “Merry Christmas, Natasha.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #self insert fanfiction #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff imagine #ikan writes

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Text

Privacy || PG10

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader, Kika x fem!reader Warnings: angst, cheating, wlw WC: ~700 F1 Masterlist

You were his. He had promised it over and over, time and time again. You were only his. He didn’t want to share you, not with anyone. Privacy - that was the foundation of your relationship. Everything was kept private, so he could keep you safe.

Or so he said...

You could still see the notification when you closed your eyes. The WhatsApp message that mysteriously disappeared before you could read it, just like all the rest. You could feel the ice spreading down your spine at the lie.

It was just a group message, just one of the guys on the grid. He said it as if you didn’t know the name of every driver.

“I’ll be back before you wake, you won’t even notice I’m gone,” he promised as he stepped out of the bedroom in a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You had taken time off work to spend the summer break with him but he couldn’t seem to go one night without attending a party at some club you couldn’t even pronounce.

You placed your phone on the coffee table and nodded your head like a good girlfriend should, just as he expected. “Be safe. Have fun.”

“Yeah, course.” He could barely hide his smile as he replied to a message on his phone, completely distracted as you did the same. “Love you.”

“You too.”

The club was full by the time you made it inside, unable to skip the long queue because you were just another pretty face, not one of the influencers or sports stars that frequented the place. There were hundreds of people but it was impossible to miss Mr Personality in the crowd, his smile wide as his arm curled around the model’s narrow waist.

The anonymity that came with the ‘private’ relationship worked in your favour as you made your way through the people. A few men took notice of your hips swaying with each step, but that was nothing new. Pierre had called you his ‘petal’, beautiful and in need of protecting.

“Hi,” you greeted your boyfriend when you reached the ring of strangers surrounding him. He dropped his arm from the model’s body and tore his lips away from her neck with wide-eyes. “Oh, don’t stop on my account, Kika is very beautiful.”

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“Of course not, it was totally innocent,” you interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No need to be a bitch.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and see his eyes dilated with the thoughts he had of finishing what he started with the younger woman. He had been talking to her for weeks, waiting for their trip to align so he could do more than just slide into her DMs.

You watched his hand disappear behind her back and she bit her lip as he palmed her ass. “It’s time to make a decision,” you said as you crossed your arms. “Are you going to come home with me?”

Pierre looked between you and Kika, his eyes dropped from her face to her tits before flicking back to you. “I’m good here.”

“Let’s go, love,” you said as you held your hand out, making Pierre laugh.

His laughter died when Kika stepped away from him, taking your hand and curling her body into your side. The devilish look in her siren eyes had you combing your fingers into her dark hair as she gripped the tight dress you wore and pulled you closer. Her lips tasted of strawberry from her daiquiri and the essence of the rum was stronger on her tongue when she deepened the kiss.

“What the fuck?” Pierre growled as he pulled you apart to see her lipstick smeared on your smirking lips.

“You’re not the only one in my DMs,” Kika teased as cleaned her lipstick from your face with a promising look. “Isn’t that right, my petal?”

“Petal?” His face was falling with each passing second, devastation at his actions being realised the longer he looked at you. He knew he was losing you. “Baby, wait, we can talk about this.”

“You made your bed, Pierre,” you said as you shook your head and curled your arm around Kika like he had earlier. “Now sleep alone in it.”

#pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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rayassecretlife · 11 months

Text

So this is love?

Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Neteyam sully x Fem!omaticaya!reader

PLEASE READ PART 1, PART 2, AND PART 3 BEFORE READING THIS.

Summary: After the long loving night you shared with Neteyam, it was time to go back home to the clan and tell them the news, but you also had to deal with your father.

Warning(s): Mentions of ab*se, Self h*arm and death, mature language, mentions of pregnancy, mature content, choking

“Neteyam?” You call as you walk further through the forest, listening to the trees blow in the dangerously silent wind. You had just woken up moments ago but it was still night, forest darker then it had been before you got there which was weird because the forest was anything but dark. “Neteyam!” You yell but receive no answer, calling to your Ikran but she was nowhere to be found.

A tall silhouette came into view making you sigh in relief, walking up to it slowly with one last call to his name. You smiled as he began to turn around, just a few feet away from his body.

“Nete-“ Your once love filled eyes turned into pure fear as the silhouette turned, gripping your neck in their hand as their face started to become clear to your eyes. “D-dad” You couldn’t breath, his hand was too tight against your neck and only got tighter, staring at you with the most hateful look you’d ever seen.

You choked out a cry as you clawed his hand, but he wouldn’t let you go—your breath getting caught in your throat quickly. “Y/N” a voice called faintly but it wasn’t your fathers, your mind not even processing it as you struggled to breath. “Y/N” the voice repeated, your vision starting to get foggy. “Y/N!”

With a blink of an eye you found yourself gasping for air in a whole new area, hand clasping at your chest with every shaky breath. “Y/N, look at me, Sweet girl” you jumped as you felt hands touch the small of your back, still gasping for air as you looked toward the figure. “It’s okay, I’m right here” you looked at your mate mortified, eyes widening at him without you even noticing. “Come here”

He pulled you into him and you soon began to cry, his hand grabbing yours to place against his heart. “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that, Baby”

“I-I-“ he shushes you once more, hand stroking your hair gently as you continued to cry, holding onto him the hardest you ever could. “He almost killed me…”

“It was just a nightmare, Ma’Tìyawn. Nothing will happen to you while I’m here” His words are as true as Eywa herself, his comforting arms only tightening around you. Another day, another nightmare—this was nothing new to either of you. It hurt him horribly to see you so scared, feeling all the emotions you felt in your dream because your queues were still connected. “Don’t cry, beautiful girl. I’ve got you”

You wanted to apologize but you knew what he’d say so you bit your tongue, resting your head against his chest. You sigh as you felt his tail hook your leg, his hands roaming your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

“It felt so real… his hands—god, his hands, Nete” Neteyam didn’t want to hear of it any longer, shushing you once again in hopes you’d leave it alone. He was more worried about what was to come, how you two would soon walk home to the clan mated.

“As long as I’m still breathing, nothing will ever hurt you again, you hear me?” He lifts your face into his hands, eyes sincere with plead and you nod, wiping away your tears. “Let me deal with him when we get back, yeah?”

You remembered… the fact no one knew this had happened—that you had to explain it to them soon, just as you were to walk into high camp. You were nervous but you knew this is what everyone wanted, they wanted you to be Tsahìk. It was so much pressure. You didn’t know how to be Tsahìk, or even act like one—lessons with Neytiri and Mo’at we’re gonna be a long process.

“My love, your nervous” you look beside you and realize where you two had connected, head ducking down slightly once you realized he could feel everything you felt. His hand calmly rested in yours, thumb caressing over your skin. “Do you…have regrets?” He hesitantly asked and you quickly shook your head.

“No, of course not. I’m afraid I won’t be the Tsahìk they want me to be. I’ll fail…” He watches you closely as you reach down to your queues, thumb brushing over the root of them with a sigh. It was a terrifying feeling, falling in love and actually pursuing it. You had no idea how to give him what he needed, how to be the leader he needed you to be.

“I don’t want to worry about that now” His voice interrupts your thoughts and you look up, watching his lips peak into a small smile. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise” Eywa, how beautiful he was. His eyes always seemed to sooth you, always so sincere when he spoke to you. He wanted you to feel comfortable, safe whenever you touched. He would never let anyone lay a finger on you again.

“Can we stay here a little longer? Just… alone?” He smiles and nods his head, laying back onto the grass with his arm open to you which you happily accept. He can feel your nerves relax as soon as you lay your head against his chest. You didn’t want to think about the future either, just wanted to stay with him for as long as you could. His fingers began to stroke through your long hair and you couldn’t help but stare up at him, admiring his features without saying anything.

You swore you could fall back asleep just in his arms. You felt so weightless, like nothing could even get close to you as long as he was with you. You felt safe. “Your so pretty, Nete” The words slip from your mouth but before you could react he lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“It still feels surreal. I’m mated to the most beautiful girl on pandora” You push his face with a laugh, hiding your head in his chest so he wouldn’t see your burning cheeks. You were laughing but he truly was being serious. He waited so long for this moment, spending so many days debating on whether it would come true or not. This was his dream. “Kids gonna be so pretty, I’m gonna have to fight off any boy that tries to fuck with our daughter”

Your laugh slowly dies down and he looks at you slightly worried he had taken it too far, his ears falling back against his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“How many do you want?” You ask, fingertips tracing circling over his chest. You could tell he was still on edge, but he knew you meant it. You always wanted kids—always talked about how well you’d treat them because of how you had been treated growing up. You wanted to give them a good life, good parents.

“A lot” He lets out a nervous laugh but your indistinct giggle is enough for him to lighten up, your eyes meeting his with a smile. “Like… four? Five?” Neteyam was always a family man. He wanted to treat his children the same way you did, and had the motive to treat them better then his father treated him and his brother. He needed a big family—it’s where he belonged.

“Boys and girls?” He nods his head instantly. “So if we have five, how many girls do you want?”

“I want three girls and two boys, but I want the oldest to be a boy” You smile, he wants girls. you couldn’t help but look at him in awe—admiring how his eyes lit up when he talked about it. “I don’t want a lot of boys… stresses you out” He notices your eyes on him mid sentence, a small smile appearing on his lips with a laugh. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. Your just so cute, wanting a family with me and all” You snuggle into him, heart full at the sentence you had just said. You and Neteyam… parents? Oh Eywa, it sounded so good. “I used to stay up all night dreaming of this. Just the two of us, you know?” His heart is doing backflips, stomach filling with butterflies at your words.

“Eywa, I’m so in love with you” You smile against his neck, pressing a small kiss against his jaw. You could cry just over your relationship. You’d never felt so safe, so calm in another’s arms. Your mate would admit his love for you in a heartbeat, over and over if you needed him to. “As much as I love being here with you, they have been paging me all night” You notice his pager against his necklace, letting out a small sigh before nodding.

“I’m just nervous… it’ll be okay” you reassure him but before you could get up, he cupped your face, pressing a soft but passionate kiss to your lips. It felt like his way of telling you it would be alright, and that he wouldn’t let anything ruin this day for you both.

“Don’t be nervous, Syulang. The people love you. Plus, we need to move into our own cave now, huh?” A smirk appeared across his lips and you rolled your eyes, pushing him. “All alone, every night… man, we’ll have 5 kids in no time-“

“Neteyam!” You cover his mouth and he only laughs, watching your face turn into a mug. “Not funny”

“Really? Cause with what happened last night…” His hand reaches down between you, pressing onto your stomach with a smile. “We’ve already started”

The two of you made it back to the village about 15 minutes after, Neteyam’s hand locked into yours just waiting for someone to see. You hoped it was Neytiri, knowing how badly she had been rooting for you guys. She would be the easiest.

“Neteyam!” Oh no. The little voice calls to your mate, running up to the two of you with the biggest smile on her face. You knew she’d draw so much attention, and now you were royally fucked.

“Tuk, did you see him-“ Neytiri’s eyes fall on the sight before her, her pupils lighting up with excitement. She made her way to you, pulling you into a tight hug with her hand soothing your back, whispering little reassuring things into your ear. “Great mother… you are mated?”

You nod and she almost shrieks out of excitement, the clan now coming to see what had been happening. Neteyam grabbed your hand and pulled you further, walking to the people who had been coming to you. Only one person stood out.

Mo’at.

“My sweet grandchild, I am never wrong!” She pulls you into a hug and you laugh, wrapping your arms tight around her. “I was hoping that’s where you went, boy. You’ve been ignoring us all night!” He laughs, hugging an arm around her while she still hugged you.

“Does this mean we have a Tsahìk?” Tuk’s little voice asks and the family all looks at each other, Neteyam’s hand squeezing your own. The simple nod of your head makes the clan cheer, and you couldn’t help but smile. You were nervous, but these were your people.

“You can’t keep me in here forever, sully! I’ll find my fucking daughter!” Your head turned at your fathers loud voice, almost jumping from your mates grasp. He placed a hand against the back of your head, squeezing your hand.

“Hey, hey” He soothes, turning your head to face him. “I’m right here, your safe. Your safe now” Neytiri smiles at you two, giving mo’at a slight look. Neytiri taught Neteyam to protect you growing up, but now? Great mother, nothing was getting passed him. “I’m going to deal with it, okay? I’ll be back”

He kisses your head before you could say anything, voice hesitant as you watched your mate walk toward the caves where the yelling came from. You hated that you felt so empty without him next to you, now biting your lip to try and stop your nerves from getting the best of you.

“Come, child” Mo’at grabs your hand and you turn to face her with slightly widening eyes, watching her face soften. “It is okay, he will handle everything” Neytiri’s hand cups the small of your back, giving you a reassuring look. “I will show you to your new cave—that is, if your looking to-“

“Yes. We are” Neytiri smiles, noticing how you’d lightened up when she soothed you. “I will follow you” And you did just that. Mo’at did you a solid giving you one of the more deserted Caves that happened to be bigger then most. Only the best for her grandchildren, right?

You enter the cave and almost instantly fall in love. It was a beautiful cave under the trees, and it had an opening on the back wall which looked out onto the waterfall behind your new home. You imagined it all here, the moment you’d bring home your first child.

“Do you like it?” Mo’at doesn’t miss how your eyes begin to water, her hand rubbing your shoulder with a small smile. “Sweet child, don’t cry” it was bittersweet. You grew up in a broken home with a broken family, The Sully’s being the only thing you ever had—and now, you were soon to become the Tsahìk of your clan and live a normal life with the boy you loved. You couldn’t believe it was real.

“I love it, Mo’at. I—oh, Eywa” You sniffle, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. “Thank you… thank you both so much” you couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful water, remembering you still had to take a bath due to last nights events. Neytiri must’ve known what you were thinking because she almost instantly reassured you.

“We will give you time to get used to your new home. Let us know if you need help grabbing things from your old one, okay?” She combs your hair and you nod, giving her a small smile.

Soon enough, the two mother figures left the cave to go on about their day, most likely planning something much bigger for you and Neteyam later on. The only thing that had been holding Neteyam back from becoming Olo’Eyktan, was the fact he didn’t have a mate. Now that he did, you knew things would move fairly quick.

You let the water take you as you walk into the small waterfall stream, the loud crashes of the water somewhat soothing you in the fact you had been alone. You could still feel Neteyam’s hands against you, and his voice in your ear. You must’ve been losing it. This mate bond was far too strong.

Neteyam on the other hand, but standing right behind you with his eyes flush just taking in your perfect body. He was mesmerized by your looks, your voice, your hair, hell—even the way you smelled. You were so beautiful.

“Need some help with that?” He asks as you try to wet your back, body quickly turning toward the loving accent you were so fond of. Your eyes were big with excitement and he loved every second of it—pulling you into his arms so you’d wrap your legs around his waist. “I was only gone for 30 minutes”

“30 minutes too long, Mr. Sully” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you into a kiss. You felt your queues connect, eyes squeezing shut at the still fairly new feeling. “Did you see the cave? It’s so beautiful, Tey. We have a waterfall and-“

Neteyam watched in awe as you continued to ramble about your new life, only imagining what things are gonna be like from now on, what it would soon be like once you two started a family. He imagined you would be even more beautiful then before, pregnant and carrying his child? After years of feelings hidden away, you two were finally one—and he couldn’t wait to start a family with you.

“I love you, Syulang” He blurts out and you stop talking, looking at him while your cheeks burned with heat. He lifted his head toward you, still holding you up with his hands—pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

Everytime your lips touched, you’d get lost in yourself. You’d forget where you even were whenever he was with you. You don’t know what came over you, but one hand set on the back of his neck, pulling him closer into the kiss while your other hand roamed his chest.

“My love, Not right now but later” Fuck. He knew you so well. You whine against his lips, tugging his hair gently back, earning a small moan from his lips. “You make it real hard to stay on task, Pretty girl”

Just as you were about to reply, the sudden snap of a twig caught your attention quickly, and your head snapped toward the direction it came from, pulling away from Neteyam’s grasp. Was someone watching you?

“Let her go!” Your mother yells, your now bleeding body fallen onto the dirty under you. Your father continued to beat you, objects cutting you and leaving bruises

“Daddy…” you tried to wipe your tears, you tried to stay strong like your mother had told you, but you couldn’t when your body had been this destroyed. Your were 9, it wasn’t your fault.

It wasn’t your fault

At this point, he was trying to take in the many cuts and bruises along your back, placing a soothing hand against your body. Your ears stood tall as you searched for what made that noise, up until he engulfed your body against his.

“Can we check it out—what if-“

“It’s not him, baby. He’s locked away. He can’t hurt you” You didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe that your father would leave you alone because you knew he’d find a way. He always finds a way. “My love, you can’t stay this way forever”

His hand softly caressed your stomach under the water and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, letting a small tear roll down your cheeks. That fact only made you cry, the fact he could hurt your child if he got out… it terrified you.

“I’m sorry” He shushes you, turning you towards him and pulling you back into his chest, your head laying in the crook of his neck. You felt like such a burden. You didn’t want neteyam to have to deal with this, you wanted him to be able to love you easily.

But Neteyam didn’t care that you were harder to love. He didn’t care that you woke him up every night because of your nightmares, he didn’t care when you zoned out because of your memories—he loved you. His broken hearted girl, he loved you so much.

You were all he needed, and he wanted every part of you.

Just a little cute ending to the series that started me off. Excuse the inactivity 🩵

Taglist: @doggyteam2028 @luvagirlsworld @mashiromochi @angelsamor @neytirishottie @lu-the-ghost-reader @jakescumdump @myh3artttt @rinizitos @luz15sstuff @lalamac125 @countryandsweetbabygirl @queenmizuki @sunnysolhaze

Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged, the tag list is a copy n paste of my other post ://

#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x you #avatar james cameron #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam gif #neteyam angst #atwow neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar reader

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zoros-fourth-sword · 4 months

Text

LAW x FEM READER

Request Post:

@wonder-landscape- Well, I had an idea not long ago about pussy drunk Law or Sabo. They start eating you out, thrusting only to feel how wet you get, forcing your legs open once your are trembling in overstimulation.

{MDNI 18+ only}

This oneshot is a 18+ oneshot so read at your own risk

This oneshot contains the following: fingering, sweet name calling, overstimulation, dom energy, cussing, and more

SUB FEM READER x DOM LAW

MY WRITING SUCKS SO BEWARE

“Y/N-swan we have arrived at our destination” Sanji yells barging into the library with hearts in his eyes interrupting my studying

“Ah okay thank you Sanji I’ll be out in a sec let me clean up first” I say to the blonde cook before he went back outside to the deck

I quickly began gathering and cleaning up my belongings making sure it was spotless so I don’t piss off a certain cyborg and I also respect Sunny she don’t deserve that kind of treatment after all

I soon make my way outside to the deck only to see Sanji and nami

“Y/N” luffy screamed jumping into my arms and burying his head into my chest

“I missed you” Luffy said hugging me tighter

“I live with you luffy but I missed you too” i chuckled to the boy before hugging him back

“That don’t mean crap but anyway I decided that we should stay on the island for the rest of the week” luffy said releasing me from the hug

“That sounds like a good idea I need to stock up the fridge because someone keeps eating everything” Sanji said giving the biggest glare that he could muster on his face to luffy

“Yea my bad” luffy mumbled looking at the floor

“Screw the food I get to go shopping” nami said with hearts in her eyes

“By the way luffy where’s the rest of the crew” I ask my captain noticing that the rest of the crew was gone

“Oh yea they decided go on ahead without us and Law is in his study” luffy said pointing in the direction of Laws office

“Ah okay then I guess I’m going to stay put and wait on Law” I say to my captain feeling bad that Laws on the ship alone

“Fine by me I’m going to go help Sanji pick out the food” luffy said practically drooling out the mouth before taking off full speed into town leaving a trail of dust behind trying to catch up with Sanji

“That idiot always thinking with his stomach” nami mumbled out

“But anyway I’m going to head out Y/N I’ll make sure to bring you something back” nami said making her towards me before giving me a hug

“Okay be safe and I’ll see you later” i say back gladly accepting her hug

I lightly knock on Laws office door waiting for him to give me the queue that it was okay for me to enter

“Come in” Law said

I quickly enter the room to see law at his desk reading something from one of his medical books

“Ah Y/N what ya need” Law asked once he noticed me rolling his chair around with one leg in his lap

“Um uh- nothing I was just going to wait on you the rest of the crew decided to go ahead” i struggle to say putting my hands behind my back to fiddle with my fingers to calm my nerves

“how sweet of you” Law chuckled out as he looked me up and down

“Are you okay Y/N your face is red are you sick” Law asked concerned quickly getting up out his chair to walk towards me

“Um uh- yea I’m just hot” i say in a panic due to the fact that he was standing right in-front of me

“Are you sure your quite red Y/N” Law asked tracing his index finger over my cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear

Y yes- I’m fine I’m just hot I swear” I stutter out causing my face to heat up even more

“Are you sure” Law asked putting his finger under my chin slightly lifting my head up to look at him and once I seen the expression oh his face all I wanted to do was punch him

The mother fucker had the most shit eating smirk plastered on his face he’s fucking toying with me and he knows it

“You know Y/N you don’t have to lie to me” Law said still looking down at me

“Huh bu- but I’m not lying” I stutter

“Mhm you know it really makes my dick hard to know that I make you this flushed and bothered” Law said softly tracing his finger over my cheek causing me to heat up even more

“Wha- what did you just say” I gasp out my eyes nearly popping out of my head

“You heard me I haven’t had the opportunity to get you alone we have been sailing for quite some time haven’t we” Law chuckled out

Did I die and go to heaven what the fuck this can’t be real I have to be dreaming

“Can I ask you a question Y/N” Law asked

I simply just nod my head yes not being able to form a sentence from my mouth

“Can I kiss you” law asked tracing his finger over my bottom lip

What the heck is happening right now I’ve thought about this moment in my head a million times but never did I once ever think it would become a reality

I simply nod once again still in shock from the situation

Before anything else could happen Laws lips were on mine in a instant and by the force of it I could tell this man has waited along time to do this i quickly warp my arms around his neck it slightly being struggle due to the height difference

“Fuck Y/N please let me make you feel good” Law asked pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against mine

“O- okay” I struggle to say slightly lightheaded from loss of air and the intoxicating taste of Laws lips

In one swift motion Law picked me up causing me to wrap my legs around his waist

Law made his way towards his desk pushing everything on the floor before placing me on it

He took a step back to get a good look at me my hair was a slight mess my cheeks were flushed and my lips were plump from the make out section we just had a second ago

“Shit Y/N your fucking beautiful” Law hummed out before taking his hat off along with his coat and placing it aside so it wasn’t in the way

Law soon made his way back towards me standing between my open thighs

“Are you sure about this” Law asked gently brushing my cheek

“I’m more then sure” I say looking up at Law

Before anyone could say another word Laws lips were back on mine I quickly wrap my arms back around his neck without hesitation

“You know how long I have been waiting for this” Law said pulling away from the kiss so he trace his kisses down my neck

“Fuck baby your so sexy” Law said as he began to grinding his hard on against my core

Causing me to let out small whimpers and moans from the friction

“I bet your fucking drenched” Law growled out adding more force to his grinds

The movement was Causing my skin to feel like it was on fire my body desperately needed to get out of these clothes

I quickly bring my hands down to the button of my jeans slightly struggling due to my nerves I guess Law got the idea so he replaced my hands with his swiftly unbuttoning my jeans before pulling them down my legs leaving me in only my crop top and underwear

“Just lay back and relax babydoll” Law said as he lowered himself to his knees so that his head was right in front of my clothed core

Law hooked his tattooed fingers into the waistband of my underwear before pulling them down my legs

“Fuck babydoll look how wet you are” Law hummed out tracing his fingers through my folds causing me to jerk backwards from the contact

“Fuck” i wine out leaning my head back while gripping the sides of the desk

“I know baby I know just lay back and I’ll make you feel good” Law said with a gentle tone before burying his face into my throbbing core

“Fuck Law” i moan out feeling his warm tongue against my core

“Mhm” hummed out causing vibrations to run up my body adding more pleasure

“Fuck Law that feels so good” i moan out grateful that it was just me and him on the ship right now

Law began flicking my sensitive bud back and forth with the tip of his tongue causing my legs to shake

“Fuck law” I squeal out from the pleasure he’s causing my body

Law took notice so he decided to slip one of his long tattooed fingers into my core causing me to roll my eyes in the back of my head nearly seeing stars

“Fuck law I can’t” i moun out grabbing a fist full of his hair trying to push him away

Law let out a growl before pulling me closer to his face by my thighs

“Fuck fuck fuck Law I can’t” I say trying to pull away

Law become irritated so he landed a harsh slap against my thigh causing me to moan out from pain and pleasure

“Fuck law you feel so good” i moan out as my whole body began shaking uncontrollably letting Law know I was close to my release

Laws mouth become more aggressive causing my whole body to tighten up making me see littoral stars

“FUCK” i moun out one last time before realeasing all over Laws face

I quickly look down at Law to see that his eyes were hooded and his dark hair was a mess he looked fucking gorgeous

“Fuck Y/N I could have you for breakfast lunch and dinner your fucking delicious” law said licking my juices off his lips

I had to rewrite this because tumblr deleted my last one I freaking cried bro so this one isn’t as good as the first one 😖😭

#one piece smut #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law smut #law one piece #one piece oneshots #smut

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all-things-fic · 8 months

Text

By The Fireplace // RM

A/N: First time writing Ross, could be the last time too! It's long (7k), it's smutty and it's a day late (sorry @abiiors). This is part of Promptober '23 and I'm not sure if I've written it right as it's set in November (as you can tell it's going well lads).

***

November 23 2023.

Six hours and forty-seven minutes.

It made sense for him to fly straight into Glasgow. It shaved almost two hours off the red-eye flight in comparison to London and another twelve hours in the car to get you to your destination.

This airport and this place weren’t something foreign to him either, he found himself popping up here more often than not just to get some advice. At times he knew he could pick up the phone, but nothing beat an actual, in-person conversation with his big brother in a normal pub with a cheaply priced pint without any pretence.

As he walked to the carousel to grab his bag, he slid the second strap of his backpack onto his arm and immediately followed it with pulling up his hood. He was knackered, body achy from the cramped flight and blinking heavy from the lack of sleep.

His glasses-covered eyes silently followed the black tracking as it moved bag after bag past him. Inside his mind, he began to ridicule himself for not just flying with hand luggage. He didn’t need the extra items, only staying here for seventy-two hours before he would be back in America.

Utah he thinks, or was it Oregon? He made a mental note to figure it out before he left.

Subliminally, he felt himself perk up when he saw his beat up silver luggage push through the black rubber flaps at the start of the carousel. Rather than waiting for it to meet him, Ross went to meet it dragging himself to the other side of the carousel.

Plucking up the item with ease, his gaze quickly scanned the case. He made sure to spot the battered dragonfly sticker that represented one of his favourite bands, therefore knowing he was picking up the right case. Last thing he needed was to be on the phone to Glasgow Airport sorting out their mistake (or maybe it would be his).

Wheeling the case through the airport was easy, even at this hour. Hood still up, he was able to keep himself to himself as he headed towards border control.

The queue shuffled along quite nicely, and he couldn’t help but smile as he read your texts that had been sent throughout his flight. The last one saying, “I’m standing beside the massive Christmas tree, it has mistletoe x.”

He was dying to kiss you, mistletoe or not. He didn’t need an excuse.

Passport scanned and stamped, he softly smiled at the lady on the desk before letting his feet take him to you. His ears perked up at the sound of the accent around him, one that always filled him with the warmest of emotions. It reminded him of the soft lilt his nephew was beginning to pick up.

Walking past W H Smith’s, he weaved around what he perceived to be a couple greeting each other and let his eyes scan over the crowd milling around him.

Christmas tree, Christmas tree, Christmas tree.

He actually spotted you first, regardless of the size of the tree that you were next to. All flannel shirt (which he was sure was his), leather leggings (which he definitely knew were yours) and black boots. Ross gently smiled to himself, taking you in.

You hadn’t noticed him, too engrossed with turning around to look at the flight board that was placed over your left shoulder and reading whether there was any delay with his flight. Truth was the stupid board wasn’t updating so it wasn’t the latest information and you couldn’t be anymore in the dark if you tried to be.

It was almost like slow motion when you turned back around, this sea of hair moving behind you as you looked through the crowd and found him. You knew your smile was megawatt, as you ran your gaze over his entire being; biting it away when you saw the way he had embraced his miserable, emo self and pulled his black hood up.

You couldn’t blame him.

Part of you could already see the heavy tiredness in his body, even though he was at least two yards away from you. Guilt was the heaviest emotion in you, relief was the second. You knew it should be happiness, and god it was there as a close third, but your thoughts were so strongly filled with how much he must love you to do these kinds of things for you.

Flying red eyes. Fucking his body clock up even more to see you for three days. Only to pack his shit up and do it all over again.

Ross closed the gap between you both easily; long and strong strides making the most of his 6’4 stature. When he was in front of you, your hands found his abdomen with ease. Arms sliding underneath his hoodie, desperate to feel as much of his warmth on you now that he was here.

Your head buried itself into his neck, and his arms immediately anchored you to him; hand sliding up to gently cup at the back of your neck. Staying in silence allowed you to really breathe him in, he even smelt tired if there was a way to describe it.

“Where’s this mistletoe then?” He queried, voice wrecked from his time in the air, his lips at your temple.

“Any excuse,” you playfully murmured, as you nudged your head back to look up at him.

“I think you’ll find, you text it to me,” he jested, eyebrows raised as he looked down the bridge of his nose at you. You always loved when he looked at you with such a roguish expression, dimples framing his closed lipped smile.

People often thought of him as sensible and he was, but the times that you saw his eyes light up in this way were some of the most alive times of your life.

“Details,” you whispered, as he pulled you up to him with a know-it-all hum and a mumbled “I’ll give you details” leaning down the rest of the way to meet you.

You’d missed his beard, that was the first musing that came to mind. It’s juxtaposing bristle and softness, always something that distracted you in the best way.

His lips were of course a close second, especially in that moment as they tenderly plucked at yours in a way that heavenly sighed god, I’m glad to see you.

This contented hum left you as he pulled away gently, his lips not done as they nipped at your jaw before he buried his face into your neck now. He started to sway the two of you as you hugged, your hands sliding up his back and gripping to the worn band tee that he donned.

“How was the flight?” you asked, voice slightly strained due to your head being tilted upwards.

The question hung around in the air for a while, before he lifted himself and pressed his lips in sponging kisses to yours once, twice and three times once more.

“Shit,” he let the word linger at your mouth as you heavily sighed, “but ‘s fine.”

With a deep breath, Ross raised to his full height once more, chest puffed out as he stretched, before asking, “Where’s the keys?”

“I’m driving,” you replied, quickly. He eyed you, right hand rubbing at his chest. You hated driving, especially in Scotland. He knew it, you knew it. The times you’d let out the girliest of screams when picking him and Rob up from Murrayfield were far too embedded into his mind to not tease you religiously about it.

It was almost like you could hear his thoughts, reminding him of all the moments you’d panicked when on the roads up here.

“I’m driving, Ross,” you stressed, cutting the thoughts dead. You knew he meant well but there was no way he was going to complete the almost six hour drive that you had on your hands after being sat uncomfortably on a plane for six hours himself and most likely only running off fumes.

His lips quirked, amused at your tone which was so heavily laced with reprimand. “Alright,” he conceded. “After you, darlin’.”

***

He had fallen asleep to Dreams by Fleetwood Mac about an hour and thirty minutes into the drive. You had assumed it to be because you had hit the A82 which was such a large stretch of road which you had to drive along for such a long period of time that it had bored him enough to nod off.

As you had slowed in traffic, you took the time to admire him while he slept. His glasses hung at the neck of the tee, never far away so that he would be able to see almost instantly when he woke rather than panic trying to find them.

His arms were folded across his chest; his neck awkwardly propped up by his bunched up hoodie made into some makeshift pillow and placed between him and the car door. You knew he would regret it later - his body was about to remind him that he was a thirty-four year old man who needed a proper bed to rest in - but regardless you were glad that he had given in to his need to sleep.

A soft smile lifted at your lips as you took in his slightly rounded chin, you just knew a double chin was hidden by his impressive beard and it filled you with such affection that you wondered if you needed an intervention at this point.

Eyes back on the road, you lifted your hand to turn down the music even further, not wanting anything to disturb him during his slumber, and concentrated on the journey ahead of you.

“What a dickhead,” you muttered after a while, pressing the break harder than you liked and watching the navy car to your right almost cut you up without a care in the world.

“He had right of way.”

Turning your face to the left, you blinked in silence over at Ross, whose face was far too amused for your likening. He did not just wake up and berate your driving. How long had he been awake?

“Easy to say when you’ve been asleep for just over four hours,” you commented, pulling off and taking the next left onto a road you didn’t catch the name of. “Must’ve needed the beauty sleep.”

The laugh that he gave you was sudden and hearty. He wasn’t afraid to let you know he was amused by your previous comment which was heavily petulant in its delivery.

“M’necks fuckin’ killing me,” he broke the silence.

“Karma.”

He meowed at you then, communicating he was heavily aware of your cattiness towards him. You cut your eyes to him, infuriated by the way his gaze sparkled before he winked at you to try and soften you up.

Next his right hand moved to brush your hair behind your shoulder. He could feel the tension sitting at the back of your neck and across your shoulders without really touching you.

“Ross,” you mithered, “I’m trying to drive.”

“Pull in ‘ere, let me do the last bit.”

“Sweep in and take the glory, true United fan.”

“No,” he spoke, voice level. “I can feel your apprehension, and I want you to relax. Pull in.”

Sighing, you felt your fingers reach for the indicator before you could stop them, signaling that you were moving to the curb. His belt was off him before you had actually stopped, an annoying beeping sound filling the car to signify someone wasn’t wearing their seatbelt as it was still in operation.

You undid your seat belt slowly, watching him wait at the front of the car as traffic moved around. When it became clear, he rounded the car to your side, opening your door for you and giving you space to get out.

“Any CDs in the glove compartment?” He asked when you were stood in front of him. “Driver's choice.”

You rolled your eyes knowing you were about to endure some scream-o band from the early noughties with heavily distorted guitar sounds and tons of drum snare.

“On you go, Passenger Princess. I’m not changing my mind.”

You squinted your eyes up at him, as he patted twice at your backside.

Watching him in your car, fixing the seat for his long legs always did things to you. It felt like an age since you had last seen him drive, hands moving smoothly over the steering wheel and placing the gear stick into first to pull off.

The finesse he showed was always far more attractive than it should be and you always remembered so vividly the first time he had taken you on a drive in America in this fancy old car that just wasn’t responsive.

You had felt on edge the entire time. Ross? He was so calm. So in control. Taking it all in his stride. Not at all bothered about driving on the opposite side of the road than when you were both home.

It weirdly comforted you. Made you feel safe, secure. Here was a man who was exactly everything you had ever wanted. A little bit geeky, a whole lot manly. Able to act the fool when he felt it, but sweep in and put the pieces back together when needed.

Grateful is what you were.

He must’ve felt it too, because as he pulled out back onto the road and got comfortable, his left hand found its spot atop your thigh. You quickly encased it with both of yours, weaving the fingers of your right hand through his before using your left to gently stroke at the top of his hand, knuckles and forearm.

“Woah, what’s this wanker doing ‘ere?,” he broke the silence with his high pitched and incredulous tone, followed by “ya could fucking indicate, mate!”. You watched as Ross turned the wheel with his right hand alone and looked through his mirrors, almost asking himself silently if those around him could actually drive.

“Doesn’t he have right of way?”

“No, he fucking does not.”

The delivery of his response was so deep and astute you bit back your laugh, before lifting his hand to your lips; giving in and chuckling against his skin.

Of course, he didn’t!

(He absolutely did).

***

The Isle of Skye was renowned for its beauty. A hidden gem of sorts within the Scottish islands. Known for its rugged landscapes, picturesque fishing villages and medieval castles, the largest island in the Inner Hebrides was to be your home for the next seventy-two hours.

The feeling you got when you drove over to the coast via the bridge that connected it to Scotland’s northwest was like no other. You heard Ross chuckle under his breath at the way you let go of his hand and clambered for your phone so you could film the scenery around you, mountains and hills that were awash of oranges and browns, with the odd bit of greenery clinging on even though you were fully in the throes of autumn.

Panning your camera across the car, you filmed his profile as he drove with poise along the bridge, barely any cars in front of you giving an open road feel. He looked at you from the corner of his eye when he felt you filming him, this devilish grin lifting at his mouth as you watched him through the camera lift your hand to his lips then placing it against the side of his face.

“Eyes on the road, Romeo,” you replied to his non-verbal action, stroking his cheek with your thumb, before gently turning his head away to look through the windscreen.

The rest of the drive had been quite a damp one, the heavens opening and rain battering down onto your car. With about fifteen minutes to go, you wrapped yourself up in Ross’ hoodie, glancing over at him to see him sat further forward in his seat as he wiped at the inside of the window which was misting up.

You fiddle around with the blowers to help him, blasting them up to the highest they would go and seeing the way the hot heat helped clear the windscreen slightly.

The sat nav told him to take the next right, the car dropping down to 15mph due to the narrow streets that he was driving around and then it was the next left to take you to the cottage that was nestled in the village of Elgol.

The beauty of Elgol was something the two of you had discovered and became captivated by over his short and sweet summer break after attending a wedding of his brother's friend.

During those four days, you had spent time exploring the breathtaking coastline and ventured on scenic walks through the landscapes that were so often talked about when it came to Skye.

When you had last been there, you had been able to experience the perfect balance of seclusion and adventure, which was exactly what you and he had been after for the longest time.

“We’re going to be rained off,” he mumbled, a little agitated as he pulled the car to halt outside your cottage for the next three days.

“You say that as if there isn’t plenty for us to do inside.”

It was meant to be suggestive and you appreciated that he had picked up on it immediately, this smug smile plucking at his lips; the kind that was absolutely driven by a dirty thought or two.

“I know how much you love a game of chess, babe.”

He glanced over at you unamused, as you laughed in such a dirty way, you were almost shocked a sound like that could leave you.

“Just love it, me.”

His deadpan was second to none. It was definitely one of your favourite things about him: made the list of the top five favourite things ever.

“Getting really good at it.”

“And who’s told you that?” He dropped his head back against the headrest and rolled his face to the side to look at you. He was currently on a losing streak, truth be told.

“Hey, Waughy and I talk. Usually when I’m waiting for you to reply to my text but you’re too hungover to pick your head up off the pillow.”

“Oh, I see how it is, fraternising with the enemy. Giving him all my tricks.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose. “Not all of them.”

Those words were weighty.

There were some things John didn’t need to know about his friends. Things that were for only you and Ross.

A silence fell over you both, filling the car. You kept your eyes on each other, Ross’ occasionally falling over your features and dropping to your lips. He’d stare at them for a while, before they’d lift and he’d start the process all over again.

He did this a lot when he was away, sometimes in person like now after he had dared to take the flight, or other times through the phone when FaceTiming from California, or New York, or Perth. It was like he needed to memorise you in some way, just in case you changed by the time he got home.

You took him in too, his usual hair less sleek as flyaways made their presence known thanks to the damp moisture in the air. His skin wasn’t as perky as usual, a little sallow in colour but regardless he was still the most handsome man you knew.

Under his loving gaze, you shivered. It was probably more from the cold than anything, but that didn’t stop the light blush invading.

“Best get you inside and warm,” he spoke. “Gonna have to make a run for it.”

You giggled to yourself as you opened your door, breath catching in your throat when the cold splashes of rain hit you. You turned briefly to see Ross using his long stride to his advantage, jogging to the blue front door of your cottage and moving from side to side to keep himself from going numb as the November cold whipped around him.

Car door slammed behind you, you held your bag in your hand and ran to stand next to him, both trying to cram yourself into the alcove under the thatched room.

Your hands shook as you fiddled with the keys. Trying your best to align it with the lock. He watched from the side of you as you shivered on the front door step, all-natural radiance and slightly sodden, swaying from side to side as you tried to keep warm.

“Come ‘ere,” his deep voice chuckled, unable to watch you struggle any longer, gently taking the keys from you and pushing them into the lock. “How are you so fuckin’ freezing and you’ve even nicked my jumper?”

You didn’t answer him, instead opting to push the door open the minute he’d unlocked it and prayed that the owners had left some kindle for the open fire so that Ross would be able to sort it immediately.

***

One warm shower later, you stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the lounge, eyes moving over the scene in front of you. Hair thrown up in a messy bun atop your head, the tartan pyjamas you had purposely packed were loose against your frame.

Ross has disappeared into the bathroom about thirty minutes ago now to wash away the travel, his rendition of And She Was muffled but still present over the sound of the shower.

You’d spent that time going through the welcome pack that was filled with freshly baked bread courtesy of the owners, a burgundy white wine which boasted buttery tastes of peaches and citrus zest, and of course a bag of coffee that sounded completely to Ross’ fancy.

With the bottle uncorked, you poured yourself a glass, quickly placing it into the fridge to keep it chilled. Regardless of it edging closer to winter by the day, there was nothing worse than room temperature wine.

Shoulder pressed to the door jamb, you sipped at the alcohol and rested the cool glass against your lips.

The Nest as it was known, was definitely romantic. All thatched roof and spectacular panoramic views which overlooked Knock Castle and across the Sound of Sleat to the Knoydsrt mountains.

Inside it was all vintage French fabrics and fine linen. With its sheepskin rugs and real wood fire stove, the cottage was described as the “perfect getaway for couples looking to explore and return to comfort after a day walking in the hills and mountains”.

While your exploring had only consisted of you carrying your items from the car and into the cottage, you were definitely ready to get cosy next to the fire and relax in the lived-in space.

“Forgot my clothes,” he spoke in a hushed tone not wanting to break the serene silence when he spotted you across the room. His voice slowly tapered off as he took in the particular tartan pattern that you were donning, recognising it to be that of his own family name.

The smirk that lifted at his lips, and the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply let you know he had caught on. As tribal as it was, you didn’t mind the way his eyes ravaged you.

Your eyes ran over him without shame in return, his hair wet and sitting against his shoulders, lines of water dripping down his hairy chest and over the tops of his broad shoulders. The delicate chain that he always wore was decorative against his neck.

His right hand held a white towel securely at his hips, clenching at the fabric as he glistened and walked closer to you.

“Any of that going spare?” He nudged his head towards the wine, causing you to peel your eyes away from him and down to your own glass. When you looked back at him, he was so close to you you had to tilt your head back slightly.

“Depends,” you started, watching his eyebrow quirk up at you with intrigue. “Are you planning on sitting around in that towel, or covering yourself up?”

The crackle of the fire cut through the room and your question.

“How’d you want me?”

***

Ross opted for clothes, which meant he had to pour his own glass of wine when he came back from getting dressed. Rather than giving him a verbalised answer earlier, you’d flirtatiously tugged at his right wrist trying to get him to drop the towel.

“Towel stays on babe,” he had whispered against your lips, wet hair moving to almost curtain around you. “This cold won’t do anything for my ego.”

You rolled your eyes at him bringing up “winter penis”, which if you recalled correctly had been a topic of conversation a few nights ago when he had called you from Toronto. A conversation that had started with the guys, and one he thought fitting to continue with you.

It wasn’t, but you’d rolled with it. Mainly because at the time of the call you could hear the stage whisky fuelled slur and wanted to humour him.

You had fawned over him in that moment, openly discussing the size of his dick and before you knew it you were engaged in particularly erotic dirty talk while you sat and ate your Weetabix. Time zones were fucking bizarre, but you did what you had to to survive tour. That’s just how it was.

“You know the other morning when you phoned me and started talking about your dick,” he hummed, wanting you to continue. “I was eating breakfast-“

“Was it any good for you?”

“The Weetabix? Ten out of ten.”

He laughed, his head falling back against the cushions as he sat on the floor with his back resting against the bottom of the sofa.

“Cheers,” he bit back in good humour, looking at you upside down.

You let your fingers run gently across his brow, thumb stroking at his forehead as you softly smiled. “You know how I feel about your dick,” you whispered.

“Do I?”

You hummed your response of “yes”, voice light and airy.

“Why are we whispering?” He asked. You shrugged. “They deliver cocktails to this cottage, did ya know that?”

You hummed again, watching him flip through the menu he was holding. His fingers tapping at one of the cocktail names, “Reckon I’d like this one.”

Leaning down and looking over his shoulder you read the title.

Highland Fling. How predictable.

You chose to stay silent as you read the few lines explaining it underneath its bolded title.

The Highland Fling cocktail is a bold, robust and a slightly sweet drink with a flavour of citrus. The smoky and rich flavours of the Scotch whisky are balanced by the sweetness of Drambuie and tart lemon juice. Mixed together they create a complex and satisfying taste experience.

The cocktail is a popular choice among whisky enthusiasts and those who appreciate the rich history of Scottish culture.

“Technically we’re not in the Highlands,” you paused, glancing over at him and seeing his rich eyes were already on you. “For someone who likes to think they’re Scottish, you’ve fucked it there.”

He raised his eyebrows. Touché.

“Spoilsport.”

You leant forward to soothe him with a peck to the lips, whispering against his mouth, “Get four of ‘em.”

***

Before you knew it you were both a few cocktails deep, glasses lined up either side of you on the floor where you sat.

As he looked over at you, he knew you were at the very least buzzed by the soft flush that littered your cheekbones. He had zoned out at whatever it was you were talking about, too engrossed by the way you shone as you talked to him.

He knew he was fucked, in more ways than one. Hopefully literally, at least later on, but that thought could wait for another hour or two. Loving someone and being in love were different things, and in that moment he knew he was in love with you. He knew a lot of things actually; like he knew he needed to ask you to marry him before the tour was out.

He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when but he knew he had to make it happen.

Maybe he could find some time in the new year, whisk you away somewhere warm to fight away the January blues. At least that’s what he would tell you.

With your feet in his lap, you leant back on your right hand as you sat on the floor, left holding your fifth cocktail to your lips. It was something pink and fruity - watermelon or strawberry based, he couldn’t quite remember - but the way it was staining your lips was all too satisfying.

“I actually think he has a soft spot for me now,” you spoke softly, humming and closing your eyes as you felt his hands move to massage your feet.

“Who?”

You spoke the name of his eldest nephew, seeing the way his eyes smiled at the mention of his brother’s son, when yours fluttered open and looked back at him.

“He’s always liked you,” he reassured, hand rubbing gently along your calf. He liked you talking about his family so breezily, even if you were showing a need to be liked by his three year old nephew in this scenario.

You shook your head, biting down at your lip. “No one compares to Uncle Ross.”

“Uncle Ross, is really fucking cool that’s why.”

He widened his eyes to emphasise what he was saying, wondering how he wasn’t cringing at describing himself as cool.

“Pretty fit too.”

He looked at you over the rim of his glass as he stalled his movement to drink; holding your eyes with his he let his lips encase the rim of the glass. They were dark and smouldering, never leaving your face. There was no chance he didn't know what he was doing; he didn’t need to verbalise how much he wanted you at that moment.

“How fit we talking?”

You breathed deeply, a blissful sigh leaving you on exertion. “So fit.”

He laughed down his nose, the additional sip of his cocktail he had taken now swallowed.

“Really eloquent.”

“I know,” you played along, voice breathy. “The most eloquent, but tell me I’m wrong.”

In goading fashion you pressed your foot gently into his stomach, feeling his hand clasp around the top from your action.

“Behave.”

“Make me.”

Ross pulled at your leg then, hand curling under your knee, needing you closer. Your joyful squeal turned into a throaty laugh as you threw your head back and somehow found yourself in his lap.

He was back against the sofa then, hands sliding up the back of your pyjamas and gripping gently to the nape of your neck. He guided your face down and towards him. His mouth smiled against yours, the two of you too happy to engage in a proper kiss.

Giving up, he slid his lips across your cheek and underneath your chin as you tilted your head back and breathed his name. He gently nipped at your throat, tongue licking and tasting your skin which was slightly salty due to the heat within the room from the roaring fire.

Your fingers were woven into the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing upwards underneath where his hair tie sat, to try and loosen his bun. His hair was still damp from where it had been tied up after his shower hours earlier, and the cool strands felt delightful to your fingertips.

“I fucking love you in this,” he confessed, face buried in your chest as he finally acknowledged you wearing his family tartan. His right hand had a strong hold on your back, hand splayed between your shoulder blades as you leaned back.

His left was fumbling with the buttons of your pyjama top, desperate to rid you of the clothing item. Your mind was telling you to help, but you were too engrossed by the feeling of his lips suckling at your sternum.

“Babe,” you gasped, when you felt him nudge the fabric away with his nose, mouth wet along the top of your boob before he enclosed his lips around your exposed nipple. A satisfied moan left you, as you stroked down the back of his neck and lightly grazed your nails over his skin.

His fingers were firm, deftly plucking at the remaining buttons of your top like the strings of a bass as he grew confident. Top now sat open, his hands were quick to encourage you to move yours from around his neck, so he could slide the sleeves off.

Ross was so immersed in you, the smell of your skin and the way your breath got caught in your throat as he lapped at your nipple.

“Your tits are incredible.”

The comment was boyish and almost lost against your skin. It made you smile, teeth biting down at your bottom lip as he switched boobs.

“I missed you too,” you replied, humour lacing your words.

From your response you felt him lightly trace his nose against your breastbone, he tilted his face back to look up at you, his chin resting at your chest. Your hands moved to gently cup at his face, Ross turning slightly to press his lips to the inside of your palm.

His eyes were imploring as they looked up at you, silently watching you slide your top off completely and aimlessly throw it away before welcoming you back to him by sliding his hands up your bare back and applying a small amount of pressure to your shoulder blades to pull you down to him.

He had missed you. He didn’t need to voice it literally at that moment. It was in his gaze, his touch, the way his fingers dug into your skin as he held you.

You cupped his cheeks, the sound of both your inhales mixing just before your lips met and his face became blurred to you. He started off delicately, almost allowing you to process the feeling of his beard beneath your right hand, and his lips against yours. It wasn’t long until a fervent, urgent need overtook, building from this graduation of intensity that had you clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in your ever-changing world.

Ross’ mouth was insistent as he parted your lips and it evoked a sensuality within you that you had missed the minute he had parted from you all those months prior. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, gentle but demanding, causing a swimming giddiness to overflow your being.

You smiled at the smacking sound of your lips audible, like two teenagers necking on. Faltering lips and a low and muffled moan omitting against your mouth from him as you curled your fingers in his hair and lightly pulled.

Fighting a losing battle, Ross’ lips moved messily down your chin and to your neck. He paused momentarily, holding you against his body before moving to lay you back against the sheepskin rug. It felt sleek and inviting against your skin and you looked down your body at him waiting on his next move.

“Thought about you fucking me on this carpet when I booked this place,” you softly voiced like it was some lewd confession and not one you were sharing with your long term boyfriend.

This wicked glint flickered across his gaze and the smuggest grin you had sworn he had ever worn lifted at his lips; slowly he sat back on his haunches and started to unbutton his top. His eyes were everywhere; at your bare chest, on the sea of hair that haloed above you.

“Did ya?”

Looking down at him, you nodded happily wearing your soft blush and lifted your hand to try and reach for the bottom of his shirt to help him remove it quicker.

“Lured me here under the pretense of wanting a nice little getaway,” he teased. “Really just wanted to have your way with me.”

His eyes took in the way you looked at him, all doe-eyed and biting gently down on your bottom lip. You weren’t going to deny it; why would you?

You instead reached for his hand. The heat and wetness between your legs felt all too inviting, desperate for his touch. He palmed you over the top of your underwear so easily, dexterous digits swiping at your clit in the right way.

“Don’t start without me,” he paused, as your eyes started to close from the feel of his fingers. His lips pressed to your warm cheek when he continued, “Let me go get some condoms.”

As he rose to his feet, he quickly stripped his lower half leaving him naked, unphased and all bare bottom as he walked away. It wasn’t lost on you the use of the plural.

Starting without him was exactly what you needed, fingers caving and picking up where he left off: gently rubbing at yourself and spreading your wetness over your clit.

“Hands,” his chided when back in the lounge, hearing a soft whine escape you and seeing your hands move to easily rid you of your pyjama trousers. When you returned to your place on the floor, you watched the strip of condoms bounce to the carpet next to you, from his relaxed throw.

“Someone’s confident,” you casually commented, gazing up at him through hooded eyes and taking in the open wrapper that was placed between his teeth. He smirked around it, head dropped and looking down at his hands as they adeptly rolled the latex over his erection.

Joining you back on the floor, Ross leant over and pressed a kiss to the inside of your left knee, his eyes finding yours from under his brow. He mumbled, “Some would say prepared…”

He stalled his words, lips now at your right knee. “…. Safe.”

“Sexy.”

“How’d you want me?” He queried in return, feeling your hands pulling at him.

“You decide. Just want you.”

He moved so effortlessly between your legs, them pliant in his hands and accommodating. His weight above you was always welcomed, comfortingly looming and imperturbably virile.

“Put me in,” he spoke, voice low and caught in his throat as slipped his tip between your folds. You whined around your bitten lips, reaching up to pull him down closer from where he was hovering over you.

His lips were heavy on yours once more, all tongue and hungry. He groaned against your mouth as you stroked him over the condom that he wore, hands sliding down your waist and angling your hips.

“S’yours, you know.”

You slowly smiled at his slurred and barely audible words, mouth dropping open and head falling further into the carpet as he slid into you with no resistance, bottoming out in one long, smooth stroke and the manliest “fuck me”.

Humming deeply, Ross bit around his smile as he started with shallow, teasing thrusts. A series of strokes that you found frustratingly sexy but knew as ones he wouldn’t be able to keep up due to his own insatiable desires.

“More,” you craved to feel the power you knew he held.

He listened, thrusts more measured - slow, hard and deep - knowing what you wanted and needed. Undulating and determined.

He jutted his hips forward, knocking your body with more force as you lay relaxed below him, arms above your head and boobs bouncing with each swift jolt of his thrusts as he fucked into you.

“Yes, fuck me,” you breathily moaned, head pushed back further into the floor beneath you, hands moving to the rug upon which your lay, fingers grasping at the soft material.

To think that all those hours earlier, you thought that neither of you were going to get warm. Now you almost choked around the thick air that consumed you within the room and from the roaring fire.

Ross’ thrusts kept their measured in pace, more forceful than before and you couldn’t help the blissful sighs and heavenly cries that left you lips as he devoured your sweaty skin, licking and sucking at the curve between where your shoulder and neck met.

The feeling of his touch let you know how sure of himself he was. You couldn’t disagree as your body welcomed him, receptive and pliant and willing.

He frowned along with you when he felt you begin to go taught. When you breathily gasped his name, he scooped you into him and held you against him.

Your orgasm had crept up on you, causing you to cup the back of his neck and bring his face back to yours. He was muttering words of approval into your skin, something that you couldn’t decipher that had you opening your legs wider for him.

He knew you liked it when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to try and get you there. It summed up the mystique that peppered throughout your relationship.

As you shook, he sloppily fucked you through your release, hand tilting your hips up as you become slack.

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped when you came to, face flushed and feeling clammy from the mixture of the heat from the naked flame to your right and pure exertion.

“‘Think you love fuckin’ me,” he roughly spoke, his right hand seeking yours and lacing your fingers together against the rug. You looked at him with desperate eyes, a shake of your head to his words. “No?” He sniggered down his nose, his own skin taking on a pink flush.

His other hand wound underneath your lower back, as you arched slightly, liking the way he wanted to drag it out; to roll his heavy hips into yours this entire time and making it so your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone on every thrust.

He watched your eyes roll back and your chin lifted upwards, him finding your spot once more causing you to clench around him. Ross groaned your name, begging you to look at him. Your hazy eyes found his shortly after he aired his request, hips snapping forward when you silently begged him with fucked out eyes to fill you up.

“Fuck, ‘m comin’.”

The sound of his voice was watery; choked as he groaned causing you to blissfully sigh when you felt him drop down to you, your arms enveloping his body and holding it to yours.

You ran your fingertips lightly down his back, listening to his breathing even itself out, you pressed a fluttering kiss to his temple and purred, “Welcome home, baby.”

#promptober75 #promptober #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonal fanfic #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald smut #fluff writing #smut writing

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